I’ve been struggling with some health stuff and things feel very hard. I’m still working on various projects, but in small doses. I did get to meet one of my fellow bloggers in person recently, which was amazing. I also continue to sell a few books a week and reviews are still coming in (thank you!)
While I’m focusing mostly on health right now, I did recently visit the historic Sacramento City Cemetery on a bright fall morning and take these photos. I hope you enjoy them and please let me know if you have a favorite.
As always, thank you for sticking around here. It means the world to me.
#1#2#3#4#5#6#7#8#9#10#11#12#13#14#15#16#17#18#19#20: Taken on the night of the full moon
Photos were taken with an Olympus OM-D and edited with ON1 Photo RAW
Part of our summer trip included searching for Thomas Dambo’s giant wooden trolls. Let me tell you, these incredible sculptures do not disappoint. Not only are they breathtakingly beautiful, but they are enormous!
Thomas Dambo has crafted over 170 creations all over the world. If your curious if one is near you, here’s a wonderful Trollmap. We only visited two trolls this trip, but we will try again soon.
Now, come with me into the forest to meet Bruun Idun and Pia the Peacekeeper.
“In the night, there was a storm, there at the beach where she was born And Idun felt a feeling wrong, and so she walked there in the dawn And in a flute, the magic horn, a tune so passionate and strong She played for them an orca song to ask them where they all had gone“
Brunn Idun stands on the shoreline playing her flute to the Orca’s to ask them why they have all left the Pugeut Sound. Her flute was made by artist, John Halliday Aka Coyote from the Muckleshoot Tribe. On August 25th, the Mayor of Seattle, Bruce A. Harrel, declared it “Brunn Idun Day”. This special recognition celebrates Bruun Idun’s and the Trolls’ contributions to our collective stewardship environmental management, water protection, repairing habitat restoration, preservation and conservation. Every August 25th is Bruun Idun Day.
“Pretty pretty please, let’s keep the peace beneath the trees Hold you in my hand I will remind you with a squeeze Quiet little people cause your criers make me tired Pia likes to play with people, people they keep quiet“
Pia likes to play with the people beneath the trees, and she likes it when it’s not too noisy.
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These photos were taken with an Olympus OM-D and edited with ON1 Photo RAW.
Although it was our last session together, the full moon hid from me. It danced among the snow but wouldn’t sit still long enough to capture it. I looked for light and cold instead. Winter held within a single frame. Tell me, can you feel it?
Moon rises fair and fleece. Dark crow upon the fence outside. Night thought, like snow concealed. —Neil Reid
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I had high hopes and big plans for this final photo shoot, but the weather did not cooperate. I went out three different times but clouds and rain made it quite difficult. All the same, I hope you enjoyed this last installment and all 12 months of full moon photos. I learned a lot this year! Stay tuned for some big announcements in the coming weeks. I’ve got ideas for a new project and I’m still working on publishing my short story collection.
As always, all photos were taken by me with an Olympus OM-D and edited with ON1 Photo RAW. Let me know if you have a favorite and have a wonderful week.
One final note. For those who knew Neil Reid, I’m sad to say he passed away earlier this month. I wrote a tribute to him on his blog today, but I wanted to honor him here too. I will miss his comments, letters, and beautiful poetry. He taught me a poem is a poem if you say it is and to love B I G. I will miss him.
For a moment I lost hope. Fear stuck in my belly and made me sick. I didn’t recognize my country anymore so I chased the moon with my camera. I couldn’t go over the pain. I couldn’t go under it. Oh no! I would have to go through it.
I’m not through it, not even close, but I found a few things to help. Rice fields at sunrise. Cranes taking flight. Gold-tinged farmland. You. We’ve got a long way to go and we need each other. So this is me holding my hand out to you. We are in this together.
“We all—adults and children, writers and readers—have an obligation to daydream. We have an obligation to imagine. It is easy to pretend that nobody can change anything, that we are in a world in which society is huge and the individual is less than nothing: an atom in a wall, a grain of rice in a rice field. But the truth is, individuals change their world over and over, individuals make the future, and they do it by imagining that things can be different.”—Neil Gaiman
*In case you didn’t recognize the reference above, it’s from the delightful children’s book We’re Going on a Bear Hunt.
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As always, all photos were taken by me with an Olympus OM-D and edited with ON1 Photo RAW. Let me know if you have a favorite and have a wonderful week. Only ONE full moon left! What?!!
Forget about everything else and be right here. Look at the way the full moon rises, timid and then quickly. Bold. Look at the way the Joshua Trees grow. Each branch jutting off the main tree is from an injury. They make broken look beautiful. You do too.
Let’s remember this moment and make more. Many, many more.
“What draws people to be friends is that they see the same truth. They share it.” —C.S. Lewis
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It’s not like me to be spontaneous. I like planning, making lists, and being as prepared as possible. Last week I decided at the last minute to visit my childhood best friend in Las Vegas for her birthday and got ready in three hours. It was a perfect, beautiful, enjoyable, and fully unplanned whirlwind of a few days capped off by the appearance of the Hunter’s supermoon. My heart is so full.
Most of these photos were taken at the Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area. However, the last few photos were taken on the drive back in the morning. The last photo is the moon setting as the sun rose close to Newberry Springs, CA.
As always, all photos were taken by me with an Olympus OM-D and edited with ON1 Photo RAW. Let me know if you have a favorite and have a wonderful week. Only two full moons left of the year. Wow.
“I am a tiny seashell that has secretly drifted ashore and carries the sound of the ocean surging through its body.” —Edward Hirsch
Sometimes a place can be familiar to you but still hold secrets. People are like this too. I look for what is true. What is real. That’s where magic lives.
On this beach trip, the ocean was angry. It pounded the shore and never receded enough to reveal the tide pools. The beauty took my breath away. Come with me.
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Photos were taken with Olympus OM-D and edited with ON1 Photo RAW
masked moonlight wakes me pulling dreams backward, inward pulling body forward, outward five steps and I’m outside bare feet on weathered wood yes, moon, what do you want watch me descend, it says casting legato light across waves as sapient stars nod, blinking in agreement what else can I do but listen
opalescent ocean dances below sings softly of forgetting or is it forgiving maybe it wants me to bleed shedding mawkish memories dance, move, swing your arms let go, it calls can it be so simple
silver moon transforms briefly mimics sunlight before sinking below the waves below the horizon below my pained core with a final golden gasp it calls out to me yes, I hear you
folding, folding I tuck the words inside— my moonset gift swaying, swaying I rock with the waves under billowy blankets until morning comes
Note: Both of these photos are of the moon setting at around 1 a.m. If you look closely in the second one you might see stars.
nobody cried when sweet smoke arrived. we soot danced, our eyes half-open, bodies ash-drunk on sugar promises plucked endlessly on old guitar
strings. winding streets slowly filled with smoke, siren calling hearts to believe not our choking breath, but it. singing praises like honey symphonies, words
of control. hushing words. lies laying beneath. it quick burns papery thin childlike-hope into dying embers. we believe it all until you
speak. standing atop stacked rocks bright hair blowing, tender eyes locked on us, you say “listen to the wind.” we do. it bends flowers, stops dragonflies, sings
towns alive. go—sweep floors, hug trees, wipe ash from foreheads, clean water, move air. listen to stone, earth, plant. grab my hand tight. don’t ever let me go.
Note: Is this poem inspired by Barbenheimer? Perhaps. Perhaps. Perhaps.
Bridgette Tales 