Umtanum Canyon, eastern Washington
I think the iPod gave up the ghost tonight. Outside after dark in the garden beds peeing how quiet and cold, so dry and cold, it’s like every individual hair in my nose feels it and quivers, it’s like all the plants do the same and their feathery little lamb ears like frost crystals or distant stars or planets how they sigh with the cold and the dark, the plants, the trees stripped back and how I relate to them hanging on and trembling on the cusp, how we may not make it through, how the look that gives us I like.
Bill Pearse 
What a great photo Bill, an atmospheric snapshot, just like your writing. Can almost feel that cold ‘trembling on the cusp.’ Great stuff
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Lynn! That’s just about an hour and a half from where we live, east over the Cascade mountains…love the buttes there and funny colored lichen that grows on the rock faces…snakes, hawks too! Good place to be inspired. Thanks for reading. Bill
LikeLiked by 1 person
Looks very inspiring – beautiful in a slightly sinister way at thei time of year. My pleasure as always 🙂
LikeLike
Great imagery. Feather lamb ears.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, it’s quirkiness. And again, for helping promote my blog last week and yesterday. Fun to look into The Void.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Easy to relate to the trees, isn’t it? They react to every nudge of the wind, but they’re solidly anchored too. Though we saw a tree on a hike the other day that had just decided to lean down without really cracking. Yep, I can relate!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I like the groaning sounds they make in the wind, too.
LikeLike
Definitely felt like a look into The Void. This time of year has me so conflicted; I’m sentimental about the holidays to an absurd degree, but I also get quite down with the weather, the lack of light, the strain I’m feeling from myself and my wife and my sick kid and all of my students who are feeling the strain from cold houses and no food at home and shitty food at school. Sometime’s it’s hard to hear toothpaste-commercial-esque singers belting out, “It’s the most wonderful time of the year.” It is and it ain’t. That’s my response to a lot of things these days. Thanks for your prose, sir.
LikeLike
Thank you for your prosaic comment and sorry to hear how you’re feeling. Art it out, brother. Art it out.
LikeLike
That was an odd and intense little paragraph there. It went from zero to sixty, then faster, then slammed on the brakes in the last phrase at the end after the last comma. Made me shake my head and go “ruh?” like Scooby Doo there at the end. And the photo is a little hypnotic, too. Also, I recommend you keep the Barbies away from the Elves, as that can only mean trouble.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hey old friend! We are having a port by the fire and playing Morrissey and talking nonsense, no different than any other day. Raising one to you and yours and a sentimental nudge southeast, good sir. Drop me a line, let me know what gives. Bill
LikeLike
hang on as we are heading towards spring. may be too late for your iPod.
LikeLike
The iPod is kind if irrelevant now. Somewhere between vinyl and Spotify, like its own version of the cassette.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Or an 8-track
LikeLike