Category Archives: loss

by

mystery key

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: key.

I don’t know why this picture is a key. It’s a mystery. You tell me why, I don’t know. Because the bush has started it’s spring growth and is covered with snow? Because the snow means winter and winter means spring and life goes on even when things are difficult or even horrible. Still, winter comes and then spring.

And this photograph wants to be part of the mystery too. I don’t know. Explain it to me.

Anna's hummingbird sitting on a branch, with green iridescent feathers.
by

door to blue

For Norm2.0’s Thursday doors.

This is the arched entry from my house. I was trying to capture the blues in the snow on Monday as the evening light dimmed. It’s time I photographed a lot more of my local doors, since Port Townsend has many building built from 1860-1880. Not my house, it’s from 1929. More doors to follow soon.

evening light looking through arch at a snow covered yard, all tones of blue.
archway in the evening, with a hanging birdbath and snow on a yard, all blue light
by

all things

I went to a memorial last night, for a singer.

This photograph is from 2015, a memorial sing for my father, who sang in three or more choruses here from 1996 until 2013. Actually he was raised singing and with music. My sister and I were raised singing, too.

My father and the singer we were remembering performed folk songs locally.

We sang last night. I chose a round.

all things shall perish from under the sky
music alone shall live
music alone shall live
music alone shall live
never to die

Here is a version sung in three languages.

With each new loss we remember the old ones: I miss my mother, my father, my sister. The round comforts me: all things shall perish, yet music alone shall live, never to die.



by

beach birding

My daughter and I hiked the beach on Saturday. The eagles were out. We saw three at once, two juveniles and an adult. Earlier we saw an adult flying and a juvenile flying. There were either three or five or more.

I watch for them in the trees. Big dark lumps that the zoom lens can parse. This is at full zoom so we were not close. But we were walking around Point Hudson indirectly closer.