cairn you feel it?

the number of these little "monuments" was staggering...

i was compelled to contribute my own, and here it is:

vancouver 2010 cauldron.

7 a.m.

I'm not turning into a crazy cat lady yet, I swear. The light was just too beautiful to resist.

what i think of...

on a recent scenic drive, a friend and i pulled over to admire the view. "this is what i think of when i think of the northwest. this is it for me," she said.

i think i know what she means.

2 heads...and 2 bodies!

a typical scene for bellingham, washington.

confused blossoms, chuckanut drive

while a very different kind of white hits the east right now...mild february temperatures may be leaving these trees along chuckanut drive a little discombobulated.

Spongebob Sadpants

Spotted from a cab, on one of the coldest days all winter.


It doesn't get much more depressing than this.

Stop

Yellow at Rest

chapter sixteen.

The best thing, though, in that museum was that everything always stayed right where it was. Nobody’d move. You could go there a hundred thousand times, and that Eskimo would still be just finished catching those two fish, the birds would still be on their way south, the deers would still be drinking out of that water hole, with their pretty antlers and their pretty, skinny legs, and that squaw with the naked bosom would still be weaving the same blanket. Nobody’d be different, that’s all. You’d have an overcoat on this time. Or the kid that was your partner in line the last time had got scarlet fever and you’d have a new partner. Or you’d have a substitute taking the class, instead of Miss Aigletinger. Or you’d heard your mother and father having a terrific fight in the bathroom. Or you’d just passed by one of those puddles in the street with gasoline rainbows in them. I mean you’d be different in some way -- I can’t explain what I mean. And even if I could, I’m not sure I’d feel like it.
--Holden Caulfield