Category: ekphrastic

One Trick Pony

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Fall descends in a gust
Winds narrating
The passage of ageless sparks

Wind created by wings
Many, becoming one
True to their calling

In the fall/winter, I am a one-trick-pony. Obsessed with murmurations and their relationship with the ending of day. They dance with the moon and get drunk with the reds of the eventide. It has been ten seasons that I have sought them out. They no longer number in the 100’s or 1000’s as that first year, but the call is still irresistible.
Multiple exposures on a single frame. (Nikon Z6) – Selective blur added





Don’t Leave

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There is a certain stubbornness in the air
Though sun falls faster and cold grabs the neck
In firm coercions to change, to die off a little

“Look, all the other trees have shed their coats
Why won’t you conform?
Go to sleep already”

Tree, so steady:
“Yet it is ninety degrees today
A time for basking and soaking

If I had legs, I’d go surfing
You may be around less
But this confusion
Does not come
Without a price

Soon enough.”

trees across the lake – Mission Trails, San Diego –

The Gathering

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A gathering of crows is called a murder.
I wonder why. There are many explanations.
The eating of human flesh after a battle seems appropriate.

A group of rhinos – Crash.
Apes- Shrewdness…ok!
Alligators – Congregation…a Sunday morning ritual?
Lemurs – Conspiracy….(or is that just the theory?)

More here: https://www.businessinsider.com/odd-names-for-groups-of-animals-2016-3#a-troop-or-barrel-of-monkeys-23

Composite stitching (multiple exposure photos). Available print: https://bluemarblephotography.smugmug.com/Composites/Birdscapes/i-7zjkvJt/A

Slight Delay

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A knock at the door
It’s a cool night come calling
Rustling of leaves
Signals remembrance
Now at day’s early slumber
Perhaps I can again visit those murmurations
Most enchanting.


The newly planted winter garden promises growth that has become impossible in the summer heat. Lettuces and such love this cooler weather.
Once again I will traverse to the lake where my little blackbirds swing and sway to the light of the moon.
It has been a long two weeks in our home. The virus which shall not be named visited us. It has left, but its mark remains on some of us (no taste, tired) . I was fortunate with minimal symptoms. Tomorrow I’m back to work.
Multiple exposures from 2018

The Real Measure

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“In My Little Town, I never meant nothin’, I was just my father’s son” (Paul Simon)

….and when I grew up
I realized that the thoughts of men
Cannot make us who we are
Nor can they remove the good we do with sincere hearts
It is only the small among us
Who find fault with good things

Thoughts do not carry the load
Words, no matter how harmful
Float away on the lightest of breezes

And when the fires come
The measure of a soul
Will be found in the kindness
Afforded to others

The rest
Is useless weight