Monday, February 17, 2014

The Magic Between

Magic Hour

That in between moment when day meets the night and the sun bows to the moon. The landscape dims and the sky begins to glow. The land holds onto the last bit of warm tonal hues the parting sun offers yet fades like a dying ember. Spared only by the brief burst of fiery splendor bequeathed to the heavens. 

It is always at this moment that causes me to pause and ponder. 
I remind myself how fortunate I am to stand here and be a part of this magic. 
When the sun bows to the moon 
and this enchantment befalls me.
Contentment. 

What's In A Name


A photographer friend of mine and I were heading out to hike and photograph in Havasupai and we had hours to chat on the drive ahead of us.   He asked me why I called my blog "Wandering On The Edge".  Wandering, something I've done my whole life. Wandering, running away, exploring, leaving, hiking and backpacking.  Destiny has dictated a constant forward motion and I call myself a romantic wanderer.  I see meaning and purpose in every journey and I see light and composition in every scene.  I related to my photographer friend that  every trip I take, adventure I set out on, there has aways been a lesson involve.  It's how I've come to view my photography now. A series of lessons. 

Sunday, February 16, 2014

Monday, February 10, 2014



"Pleasure to me is wonder—the unexplored, the unexpected, the thing that is hidden and the changeless thing that lurks behind superficial mutability." 

— H.P. Lovecraft 

Saturday, February 08, 2014


 Sunrise at Zabriskie point
Death Valley National Park

"Oh, mirror in the sky

What is love?
Can the child within my heart rise above.
Can I sail thru the changing ocean tides.
Can I handle the seasons of my life."

Friday, February 07, 2014

Upper Navajo Falls in Autumn. The Grand Canyon 

Saturday, February 01, 2014

Solo Journey


Lone Hiker in Death Valley's Golden Canyon
Best Viewed here

Faith



The very first time I noticed it I was incredibly young yet the memory is very clear.  When I was almost 4 years old our family moved to a home in the suburbs of Orange County in California, but before that I remember the house we had with a huge backyard.  This particular home had a  backyard with a perimeter lined with very tall eucalyptus trees. I remember from our patio the back of our yard looked like a forest to me but then I was only three. One day, I ventured into the way back and stood among the trees and watched the birds.  I'm not sure what they were doing but they were fascinating to me. I watched them and tried to process their world in my mind. Young and small, watching from my low vantage point 

I wanted to reach into their lives. They flittered about from tree to tree and I was intensely curious about them. I wanted to know, if I asked of the natural world, would I receive?  I reached my hand up to them. I stood there poised, motionless, determined to test the boundaries of my own reality and dare to believe that as a child of 3 the world would respond so lovingly.  Faith was never in question and on the fingers of my small outstretched hand a bird did land.  I stood there among moments that I knew were magic and held a little bird and we were equals and trusting and small among the towering trees and the earth for that matter.  I remember it as a significant sign, I remember it as compassion. 

Running back to the house to recount my story, it was as if the magic of the moment lifted like fairy dust with each stride only to recount an amazing story falling on ears too busy to believe in such things. Looking back, the incident was significant in that I forever understood that there was so much more the to world than just what we see.  In fact, the world had unseen dimensions and layers and magic if you will, if one's mind was open to it.