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inspiration point.

View from my office January 25. My office is at home.

long cold night on the park bench.

I saw this idea (it’s far more than a simple technique) a while back at a gallery show and decided to give it a try. It’s a real challenge, with what appear to be hundreds of choices at every click of the mouse. I’m certainly not done with this image. Goodbye to a couple days or so.


before the storm.

a pot for large plants; only $237,000.

Following on Sam’s recent smokestack images … this one in the Oregon coast region is nearly a bazillion feet tall. You cannot fit it all into a single photograph. One day, I decided to walk around the base of the thing. I never made it back.

send me a sign.

Up in Long Beach, a small seaside town in SW Washington state, just a couple doors down from the McDonald’s, Amber noticed this set of four old, decaying fuel tanks. Each was painted with a mural of Christ, from birth to resurrected, as you progress down the tanks. Note the modern (Ferrellgas; you can’t see the name) tank to the right. It will help to understand the weirdness when you see the bus later.



the party was yesterday?


cannon battery wall: a century on.

a way to the sunlight.

Battery Russell, a two-gun cannon emplacement at Ft. Stevens at the mouth of the Columbia River. Its active status protecting the entry of the river dates from 1903-44; it’s a state park now. This, and one other closet appear to have the only stairs upward and to the open top of the battery. A Japanese submarine actually fired about 17 rounds into the area during WWII.

rusting your life away.

passenger railway car too close to ocean air and the salt.


things change.


nightfall at noon.

no beginning. and no end.

After editing more than 500 images of waves in an afternoon, you kind of Zen out and find a way about things that makes sense. This was not chosen for that reason. It simply was the last image I decided to keep. There is a certain grace in that kind of decision-making that is similar to the elegant brutality of this wave complex … it simply happens.


spring-time. into the woods, finally.


pretty as it is, you have to walk back up.

and sometimes, bad’s pretty compelling.

Let’s see … “Do Not Enter,” on the left and ahead. Arrows pointing in one direction. One of them’s almost as big as I am. Oh, hell yeah. I’m turning right.

even when the right road is clearly marked, sometimes in life, we choose the wrong path.

The road, then known as The Devil’s Highway, was renamed U.S. Route 491, effective 7/1/03. But what great signage while it existed … 666 wasn’t just a road … from here, it was a road leading south, deeper into the heat of the desert. And it had a high fatality rate, according to the Wiki.


out for a run.

was it really ever like this?

Sometimes, the image is the feeling … more than the photons on the retina. In this middle of winter, the image can be a kind and delicious hope. So, I thought I’d share this memory, this hope for tomorrow. Anyone else have a great summer image for these cold days?


when everything just stops at the riverside.

My apologies. My previous image version was just way loaded with an orange cast and should never have been posted. This better presents the colors and the fog of the evening. Thank you for your patience.


winter ghosts I.


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