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Tuesday, March 31, 2020

Sally Jo, Questions Without Answers...

It fit my mood, an overcast morning forecasted to deteriorate into heavy rain with flash flooding. Bobbie and I ease into Greenwood Cemetery and park near the office. I crack my window and gaze at endless rows of headstones and monuments. They rise from a struggling lawn, caught in the seasonal purgatory between winter and summer—life and death. The veil of thieving clouds hijacks color, contrast, an shadow, lending a dismal pall to a long overdue occasion. 

Friday, March 20, 2020

Homeward Bound

Though it's only been a short while since I graced (or fouled) these BCB pages, it suddenly feels like we live in an entirely different world.

Sunday, March 1, 2020

Camps Catalina and Madera Canyon

Post gold rush days, a wild-eyed movement that pointed easterners westward in search of riches, perhaps today's most precious vanishing commodity is cell-less solitude.