you may hear them, the wild things
that beckon in whispers on the breeze,
calling out to you
in a language whose secrets are lullabies
hidden within gentle sunsets

A million times each day,

I move between

what agony it is

to carry this weight,

and

what a privilege it is

to simply be alive today.

The hour before becoming.

My camera is the lens that helps me to see beauty in the world, in life, and in the hearts around me.

a flower holding its own small sunrise

one leaf speaking autumn.

a hundred leaves answering summer.

this wandering field of fragments. moments, images, thoughts, ache, beauty, quiet observations, small revelations. 

things gathered along the way and briefly held before drifting onward once again.