I love hearing the kingfisher call and then look for them. This one was fishing from the dock in the early fog, but they are often perched in the sailboat rigging as well. And then sometimes there’s a bigger bird in the highest rigging… bald eagles.
poems, flash fiction and photographs
Tripping the world, slowly
A site for my creative writing endeavors, writing prompt responses, and experimentation.
Things I should be telling myself
A photographic journey through the North of England, Scotland and Wales
dreary poems and rhymes for short attention spans...
beauty is in the eye of the beholder