Water in front of the Pulliam Plant stays open all year round. While I was eying up industrial reflections in the water today, there was a fellow in an older van–and no, he did not offer me candy–who was busy with his binoculars pointed skyward, studying an eagle circling the area.

Perhaps it was a buzzard eying up Wabi Sabi.  She does not move as quickly as she once did.

No, no. It was an eagle. While it is true that Wabi Sabi moves with deliberate speed on potentially icy surfaces, there are several eagles who nest near the Pulliam Plant year round.

I find this resident population of eagles has really streamlined my spiritual life. In the past, I would have to fast and pray and then go sit under a tree and wait for an eagle to appear with a vision for my quest.

Now I grab a coffee in a to-go cup, drive down to the nesting area  and drum my fingers on the steering wheel until an idea occurs to me.

One and done.




On a winter’s day.

Well, two days, actually, but let’s take some poetic license here, shall we?

Snowfall, Bayshore Park


Field behind the old Nooyen Farm


The Sisters’ Orchard


The Sisters’ Field


Dusk in front of Holy Cross Church


Corner of Church and Bay Settlement Roads


And the sky is gray.

I forget that the transition from autumn to winter here can be miserable: wet gray and cold. Today was all of that and more. Wind and rain gradually changed to snow and a road near my house has just been closed due to glare ice.

These shots are from Bayshore Park this afternoon. I love walking here in the fall. The smell of wood smoke hangs in the air mixed with the clean wet smell of leaves underfoot and I have seen cedar trees dense with cedar waxwings doing their best to strip the berries from the trees.

Come winter, it is the absolutely best place to snowshoe. The campground is closed and if you don’t mind breaking your own trails, you can wander large untouched stretches of brilliant white snow at will.

Late fall/early winter, however? The park is not fit for man nor beast.

But…photographers, maybe.

Some reflections from Bayshore:








Five images

Okay. Start humming  “Thus Spake Zarathustra,” then check out this first shot:


Majestic or what?

The rest of today’s offerings are much calmer.




I was–and am, I confess–pretty enamored of this last shot. I entered it in a juried competition but it didn’t make the cut. However, I am happy to report that a non-barn picture was selected for that show which opens in January. (Insert emoticon of Wabi Sabi doing cartwheels across the page.)



Five images.

Back to the Old Barn. I continue to be wowed by the persistence of red on the screws and nails, while the wood has mostly just sighed and given it up. The softness of the surface in the last image makes it far more evocative of fabric than wood.






I have many many things to do this week, things that are written in thick black magic marker in the “non-negotiable” column of my Gotta-Do list,  so this afternoon it was of paramount importance that I grab a camera, a spaghetti squash, a polished black surface and two dish towels, elbow a stack of newspapers off the dining room table and sit down to do some portrait work.

I am assuming this is the way you, too, deal with pressure, mais oui?






The old capitol building in Springfield, Illinois. Abraham Lincoln worked here.

state house 4

state house1


state house 3

state house 5

I was strongly tempted to slice these shots into pieces: colors plus curves plus straight lines and angles? The possibilities are endless, but I decided you might like to see the whole thing instead.