The seedy and the sublime on the banks of the Columbia River, in Washington state. Central Washington is a dry and dusty plain, but these rivers are like living tunnels hidden below the horizon.
In southern B.C. I was so busy worrying about bears and cougars that I was caught totally off guard by the little guy pictured below, who (I think) is harmless. I found him near a campsite down by the Similkameen River (pictured above), and after we scared the living daylights out of one another I groaned with dismay as I watched him slither into the bush where I’d left my bike.
A couple of years after I took this photo, I ended up living in a different Pacific Northwest city, and there’s something about this image that captures the region for me: a kelpy ocean bounded by islands and mountains, an population squeezing as much outdoors time in before the big dark descends, the comings and goings of tankers headed around the world. I took this shot and felt ready to mount my bicycle and start the adventure.
During a February week, everyone living between the western slopes of the Cascade Mountains and the Pacific Ocean chased snow across the weather forecast. We were like the survivor of a plane crash in the Gobi Desert tottering after a lake receding into the horizon. We were like an old, arthritic dog wagging its tail… Continue reading For One Weekend Only: Snow in Seattle
As many of you might suspect, writing is a form of therapy for me. The process of forcing my ideas, emotions and experiences into the tight regulations of grammar and verbal definition helps resolve the questions in my head, whether it’s early pandemic optimism, theories about history and culture or whatever the heck is going… Continue reading How The Heck Do You Sum Up 2020?