A return to the water. In the Poulsbo Harbor, there were a pair of seals fishing. Sometimes they are deep enough that we cannot see them. Sometimes the water is disturbed. Sometimes I can see them under the water. And sometimes they surface.
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
