Field | Badger Mountain, WA | 2012
You don’t have to wander far to witness unexplained phenomena. Ants massed in a roiling ball. Orange dust blown from Asia. Or a cylinder of vapor forming and reforming over a slushy wheat field. All reminders that mysterious impulses churn our world.
Observer| Vancouver, WA | 2011
The bond between observer and observed can be stronger than you think. With gaze locked on, say, a flower, the observer can lapse into a false sense of control — a belief that attention can be broken off at any time. But don’t forget that the flower returns the gaze, which strengthens the connection. What seemed ephemeral just seconds earlier has become a solid link, tough to snap.
Flock | East Wenatchee, WA | 2011
Sometimes when birds scatter, a few linger on the perch. They’ve a different assessment of possible danger. A grounded man can’t reach their wire. Not all shadows are hawks. During a fifth-grade fire drill, my fellow student Paul sat calmly at his desk while the rest of our panicked class rushed for the doors. “I don’t smell smoke or see flames,” he said. “Let’s just take it easy “
Wenatchee, WA | 2012
This riverbank has lessons to give. Its openness accepts air and light. Its rise provides a panoramic view. Its solidity (more…)
After Class | Twisp, WA | 2012
Signs of life linger after everyone’s left. A whiff of perfume, a wet ring from a cold glass, the angle of a chair hurriedly abandoned. Sometimes the room retains a palpable impression — a vibrant personality or strident attitude not quite ready to depart.
Homestead | Waterville, WA | 2012
Every old homestead has a voice. When Canadian weather pushes through gaps in walls and around collapsed roof beams, the fading structures can whistle, hum or wail. Add a veil of vapors rising from the fields and perception gets tricky. Was someone weeping in that darkened doorway?
Stairway to Heaven | Wenatchee, WA | 2012
Nearly 200 high school graduates fidgeted in folding chairs lined on the field. Nearly 2,000 cheering friends and family members filled the stadium. But the clouds parting at the top of the stairs, so close, had my attention. The crowd noise faded to an inviting whisper, but I chose most deliberately not to ascend.
Spring | Wenatchee, WA | 2010
Feel the Northern Hemisphere tilting towards summer? The vernal equinox, perhaps underway as you read this, reintroduces direct sunlight to plants, animals and the pale-legged us. Juices begin to flow. We open to light and warmth. If conditions stay right, we blossom.
Monument | Houston, TX | 2012
A tingle of pleasure comes from finding huge things hidden in plain sight. Case in point: the San Jacinto Monument near Houston. You’d think someone might have mentioned this giant obelisk — about 50 stories high — that commemorates a decisive battle in the Texas Revolution against Mexico. But no. Instead, we spotted it from miles away, gleaming white against dark storm clouds, a needle pointing skyward, an exclamation point to our complete surprise at its very existence.
White Shoes | Wenatchee, WA | 2011
On her way to an early-morning shift, the hospital nurse turned shadow lines into a hopscotch court. She leaped past darkness and frolicked through light. Not a bad way to live, if only from your car to the emergency room.
IrwinFoto 