Into The Deep Forest  where The Quiet Rustling   of Air Fills Your Ears  with Peace And Joy...  Into

“The egg precedes the hatchling. The hatchling cradled in the egg. Alien shapes and forms are not unique, except to the alien viewer. You and I are the aliens here.”…dennis

The End... The seasons come and go as the months turn from spring into fall. The fresh buds of spring have turned into the verdant green of early summer and then to the vibrant colors of fall. The final bit of life energy is transferred from these leaves into the host tree that they have shared for all of these months. They gave their all and now the time has come. The end of life so the tree may live on. This is the way of nature. The way of life. The life as it is intended to be....dennis

         Snowflakes  A snowflake drifts slowly  and inevitably down onto the  white blanket of winter. The heat of the sun transforms that snowflake into a drop of liquid blue,  like a caterpillar to moth. The snowflake spills into the trickel  as the trickel rushes toward the stream with the eventual destination ever present . The destination is not the lake like you assumed ,it is instead the eyes of the lucky few  to see the snowflake pass over the lip of the       green moss covered cascade.. dennis

Lost in the sea of grass, the humble cabin watches the waves of amber sweep through the front door and out the back. The circle completes itself with or without our help...... dennis

       Last Light The last drops of the light. Light that is almost liquid. I am sure this light is the pastels that nature paints her masterpieces with.     dennis

Sound of a distant rain across the High Desert is more like soft evening Jazz  than a philharmonic...  My home..dennis 

"Thunder crashing, Lightning flashing right through the middle of it I go dashing..." Moments in time are how I see light. It happens every day in one way or another. Seconds? Minutes? Perhaps a bit longer. I search for those "Moments in Light"...d Captured in Canyonlands National Park,Utah.

  Home...

The smell of eggs frying on the stove still linger in your mind as you walk through the place you called home. Until a few minutes ago, this home was yours and the animals in the fields were your friends.

   The creek out back gave this world a reason for existence. The vegetables grew and the chickens laid eggs. The days were long, but the tired was beautiful. 

  Home is the area where the kids played and grew. Season after season, they prospered. Not prosper like the city folk, but like the country folk. Money was scarce, but happiness was abundant. Then more people started to move in across the valley and to chase their own version of this small perfect dream.

   Unfortunately, someone forgot to tell that little stream up the road a bit to increase its flow for those downstream. The stream flowed less and less. The water was becoming brackish.

   The man packed the old truck with the few belongings he owned. The two kids in the seat next to him and a photo of his wife’s grave next to the now dead tree, taped to the dashboard…

    life, interrupted…dennis

     Dark Skies...

The ever present Dark Skies: attempting to gather the light of the night into a gentle hug. Trying to smother the ability of the cosmos to keep a small light burning in the window. This night, those Dark Skies will lose their battle. They will be defeated by the forces of light. Fighting without the moon, the stars are themselves the star. Fight on Milky Way. Show us the way home. Keep the light lit in the sky we love...dennis

"On a Dark Desert Highway,Cool Wind in My Hair..." Your eyes settle on the faint outline of a dust devil swirling near the far off mountain. The day is cool and there is a softness in the air. Still, something is unsettling,something is ajar . Whoosh... Then you realize the romantic vision of this valley you had is being distorted by the vigorous growth of a new forest. A contemporary forest . A forest for the "new" age. A place where these "trees" are planted and grow to full maturity in weeks, not years. A forest of sight and sound, of light and shadow. Whoosh...Whoosh... The sound fills your head and then settles in your heart. This beautiful valley is now the power for your cell phones and devices. Because power is what a contemporary forest is all about. Grand and beautiful power. Whoosh...Whoosh...Whoosh... These trees do not have a flavor.They cling to your sight and sing to your ears. Still they do not smell fresh. They leave a slight "sour" taste in the back of your throat; a sadness as much as a taste. The contemporary tree is not about pleasure like its counterparts in the natural world, it is all about power. Whoosh...Whoosh...Whoosh... Cry these "contemporaries"and my soul.....dennis