Pondering, Photographing, and Writing about Wild Places

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Woodpecker Morning

    A pileated woodpecker called from the southwest, his voice punching through a cacophony of crows somewhere not too deep…

Alaskan Desert

My boots break through the thin crust, increasing my chill rate. If I keep walking, toes will stay warm, but this is a waiting game. Iced feet are a small price. I will stand still in the center of the marsh, hopefully blending with the old stumps and logs that surround me.

Lindsay’s Point

The playa was littered with a sea of colorful shotgun shells and brass casings left behind by hunters and sport…