Photography: River Walk

“No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man.”—Heraclitus

Our bodies hold onto pain and memory. We can feel it take root within our bones and we can either address or ignore it. I’ve spent the last five years ignoring it, but recently I’ve taken up swimming daily. This practice is slowly returning me to my body. No longer a stranger, we are becoming one again. Pain and all.

I share this and these photos as part of the journey of rediscovery. Look closer. Look again. You might see something different.

I’d love to know if you have a favorite image. I secretly have my favorite. Can you guess?


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  • These photos were taken with an Olympus OM-D and edited with ON1 Photo RAW.

Photography: Stormy Downtown Sacramento

“The night is darkening round me
The wild winds coldly blow
But a tyrant spell has bound me 
And I cannot cannot go”
-Emily Brontë, The Night is Darkening Round Me

To say I’ve fallen in love with photography is an understatement. Not only do I love it, but I get giddy with excitement when I see something interesting I might be able to play with. It’s an adventure every single time I grab my camera and head outside.

This week I took photographs during a rainstorm in downtown Sacramento. It was filled with challenges—navigating fallen branches, stepping in puddles, looking for a safe place to park, and getting soaked. However, it’s totally worth every second for the thrill of downloading the images and seeing what I got. It’s like Christmas every single time. Magic.

While some of my images are blurry from raindrops, and others are far too dark, I liked the overall feel of my images. I spent a fair amount of time today editing them—experimenting with contrast and exposure to give them each a slightly different feeling. I’m still a novice in every sense of the word, but I adore the process of learning.

I hope you enjoy this walk through the rainy city.

Here’s a bonus photo with a little color. The red was from the reflection of my brake lights as I pulled over to snap a picture of a puddle.

  • Photos were taken with an Olympus OM-D and edited with ON1 Photo RAW

What to see more?

Photography: Effie Yeaw Nature Center

“I felt my lungs inflate with the onrush of scenery—air, mountains, trees, people. I thought, ‘This is what it is to be happy.’”―Sylvia Plath

This morning my daughter and I visited the beautiful trails around Effie Yeaw Nature Center in Carmichael. A lot of uncertainty circles us right now and being in nature provided a much-needed respite. We saw five baby deer leap across the trail. Two large bucks slam their antlers into each other until one relented and ran off. Squirrels scampering up and down the trees. Salmon jumping out of the river. It felt magical to have this time together.

I hope you enjoy this selection of images and may it bring you a moment of peace.


  • Photos were taken with an Olympus OM-D and edited with ON1 Photo RAW

What to see more?

Poetry: River

we’ve never formally met
shaking hands, exchanging names
we’re beyond such things
green watered dream river

living within shared bones
—marrow of continuous life
passion tugs weepy core
toward lover’s inevitable embrace

slippery rocks rattle beneath
unsteady, unstable moving feet
liquid kisses, fluid caresses
flowing fast, free, fierce

losing power inside your
deep roaring wild whitecaps
fingers touch fusing together
foaming—equal dance partners

last minute quick turn
freckled face warmed red
singing in sweet harmony
until we meet again


While visiting Oregon last week, I stood on the bank of a beautiful green river and was completely overwhelmed by how familiar it felt. Had I dreamed of this place? Did I visit its rushing waters in another lifetime? I wanted to be within its icy water and feel the power sweep me swiftly away. It called to me. This poem is an attempt at processing this strange and odd feeling. Has this ever happened to you?

Casting stones with third graders

rockAs they filed passed her, she grabbed a smooth stone from the basket and placed it into their waiting hands. In silence they accepted the stone and lined up outside the classroom.

For the next 20 minutes or so they walked in complete silence. Some clutched the stone toward their chest. Others tossed it in the air occasionally letting it fall to the ground. All were silent.

They followed their teacher as she led them off the school campus, across the street, through the neighborhood to a well-worn path that cut down to the river.

Forming a line along the river’s edge, the children watched their teacher and mimicked her movements. She held the stone out in front of her with both hands. She closed her eyes. When she opened them she threw the stone out into the river and watched the ripple cascade out from where it fell. Recognizing their cue, all the children started tossing in their stones. They stood quietly watching where they fell.

Stepping back from the river they formed a circle.

“Would anyone like to share what they were thinking about?”

Hands raised very quickly.

“I was thinking how I need to be nicer to my brother.”

“I want to do more things for my dog.”

“I want to work on my patience.”

“I think I can listen to my mom more.”

After sharing, the class sang several songs they had prepared for the day. The songs were filled with glee and hopefulness.

The walk back was anything but quiet. Lots of silliness, giggling and reflection.

“That was weird not talking, but cool.”

“I think we could have surprised a deer!”

“I’m proud of our class.”

Once in the classroom they had the traditional snack of apples and honey.

The teacher then presented the children with a new stone and said “Shanah Tovah,” which means “Good Year.”

The stones that were thrown in the river represented things to “cast off” from the previous year. The new stone represents the year to come.

This was my sons third grade class celebrating Rosh Hashanah. He attends a charter Waldorf school and it’s part of the third grade curriculum. They have been learning, through story and watercolor painting, the creation story. Rosh Hashanah is the “anniversary” of the creation of Adam and Eve.

These are 8- and 9-year-old children who walked in complete silence for almost 30 minutes AND participated in self-reflection.

Love this.

Next week the children will be building temporary structures called sukkah’s and the week will culminate in an evening feast for all the families.

Love this too.

I feel so lucky to have witnessed this beautiful example of reverence and reflection that is at the heart of Waldorf education.

I was even able to cast my own stone into the water. As I watched it sink to the bottom I tried to let all my pain, anger and sadness sink with it.

I’m doing work, my friends. I am starting to feel hope. Thanks for all the kind words and hugs. They have not gone unnoticed or unappreciated.

Shanah Tovah.