Where the Fog Settles

Huntsville, September 2026.

Generally, life is good.

When the Mountains Disappear

Hunstville, September 2026

Morning fog rose through the mountains, revealing and hiding them.

Generally, life is good.

Fragmented Solitude. Monolith and Shadow

Huntsville, Pineview reservoir, June 2026

Generally, life is good.

 

The Empty Nest

 

North Arm Wild Trail, September 2026

This morning marked my return to the North Arm Wildlife Trail, a familiar stretch that had been off-limits for nearly two years.

I was heading toward the osprey nest, full of quiet anticipation. Approaching the nest brought a touch of disappointment—the nest stood empty. I had really hoped to catch even a fleeting glimpse of the birds today. Still, simply walking on the trail again was a gift in itself.

Generally, life is good.

 

Along the Wasatch. Beneath the Old Tree

Huntsville, Middle Fork, August 2026.

Generally, life is good.

Along the Wasatch. A Walk Through Silence

 

Huntswille, Middle Fork, August 2026

Generally, life is good.

 

Fragmented Solitude. Chasing the Sun in Shadow

Generally, life is good.

Along the Wasatch. Passing Through

An Unbroken Rhythm

High above our worries and uncertain horizons, nature moves forward—timeless, unperturbed, and entirely of itself.

 

On the Country Roads. Before the Storm

Notes to Self. Huntsville

Our lives are a series of chapters, each with the power to redefine the whole story. My new chapter is about a simple pursuit: birds, wildflowers, trees, and the solace of open water.

Today, twenty minutes from home,  I came across a quiet rural town, hiding a secret: a glass-calm lake. And there, floating like a beautiful impossibility, was a flock of White American pelicans.

Sometimes, the miracle is just around the corner...

Generally, life is good.

On the Country Roads. Rural Solitude

 

Notes to Self. Blackbird Pond

They call it Blackbird Pond, a name that sparks the imagination until you actually see the place. It’s a bit of a gloomy little puddle, honestly—the sort of water that looks like it might hold onto your boot and never let go.

After wandering for a mile and a half, I came to this pond feeling even more lost than when I started out. It was tiny, lonely, and gloomy. But out here, where the land is always thirsty, any patch of water is a gift.

The welcoming residents of the pond were: a turtle who perched on a log, two Canada geese, and a solitary Black-crowned  Night heron which I accidentally startled without noticing it. 

Long ago, I read that if you visit the same place consistently, it will inevitably begin to reveal its secrets to you, little by little. 

I’ll keep coming back, hoping that one day this dark little mirror will crack open and show me something I never saw coming.

Generally, life is good.

Notes to Self. For the Best, Perhaps

 

Sunrise on Bear River MBR.

***

Lately, life has been delivering one surprise after another—and most of them, I must admit, have been far from welcome. 

Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge will be closed until mid-September. In just a few weeks, construction will begin on the small bridge that has long served as our entry into the bird sanctuary.

A new temporary route for photographers and birdwatchers is expected to open, though I find little reason for enthusiasm just yet. We simply don’t know how the birds will respond to the river being diverted along this new route.

***

I keep telling myself that whatever is happening is happening for the best. Some days I believe it more than others. 

This sudden change at Bear River MBR feels like a loss—but perhaps it is also a quiet invitation to see differently, to slow down, to step away from what I know. Maybe the birds will surprise me. Maybe I will surprise myself. For now, I am learning to wait, and to trust that something meaningful is still unfolding, even if I cannot yet see it. 

Generally, life is good.

Other Reality. Early Morning, Reflected

 

The trees were only reflections, trembling with every small movement.

Generally, life is good.

Other Reality

 

Between reflection and flight, another world is born.

Generally, life is good.

On the Country Roads. Yaks

My fascination with yaks comes from their quiet resilience. They survive harsh landscapes without resistance or complaint, reminding me that strength can be gentle, steady, and deeply rooted.

Generally, life is good.

 

Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge

As 2026 begins, I hold onto hope for peace, goodness, and many moments to be grateful for.

Snow is on its way, and so is a new beginning. Happy New Year!

Generally, life is good.

Other Reality

 

when the evening slips into another world...

Generally, life is good.

Crossing Seasons # 2

Sometimes, quite unexpectedly, you realize that this fragile tree in its late-autumn dress has been quietly waiting for you all along.

Generally, life is good.