Foggy Moments
The fog comes on little cat feet. It sits looking over harbor and city on silent haunches and then moves on. –Carl Sandberg, 1878 Fog whispers secrets in barely audible hisses Hinting of terror...
View ArticleFall Impressions
With no yard, no rake, and no worries, I was feeling a little detached from the experience of fall. But a long walk up to Stringer’s Ridge, currently peaking in color, got me back to a childhood full...
View ArticleTrue Colors
As Tisen and I stroll along Stringer’s ridge, my feet drag through a thick layer of leaves. As they crunch and swirl in front of my feet, I remember what fall meant to me as a child. Halloween was, of...
View ArticleKing of the Hood
I needed to get outside, I needed exercise, I wanted to shoot, and the dog needed to go for a walk. The perfectly logical course of action was to take the camera, the dog, and go for a long walk on a...
View ArticleHalf Open?
Stringer’s Ridge has had quite a facelift. It appears to be officially half-open, although I can’t tell from the information on the web. It now has official looking metal gates that cross the main...
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