A river runs through it

Photo by S.W. Cosgrove

“Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world’s great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs. I am haunted by waters.”

– Norman Maclean, A River Runs Through It

Rincon Valley

Photo by SW Cosgrove

Riding horses on Rincon Valley trails under the Rincon Mountains, Tucson, Arizona. Spotted a cougar for part of the ride who was keeping an eye on us.

Home of the Jumping Cholla Cactus (Opuntia fulgida), which gets its name from spiny segments that detach so easily they seem to attack any creature that passes by. I found out the hard way.

Nikki’s Ghost

Photo by S.W. Cosgrove

I took this photo during a snow storm on our farm during the last winter of my beloved German Shepherd Nikki’s long life some years back. Her story over 14 years was one of trust, loyalty, protection, and love. I strive to follow her example.

The first to welcome, foremost to defend

Whose honest heart is still his Master’s own

Who labours, fights, lives, breathes for him alone

Lord Byron, Epitaph to a Dog

Walking on the Western Edge – Kalaloch driftwood

Photo by S.W. Cosgrove

At beaches at and around Kalaloch are massive piles of driftwood washed ashore over decades and centuries. These “drift logs” include ancient trees that are several feet in diameter and tens of feet long that can weigh several tons.

Over time, the branches, bark, and heartwood—what appears to be nothing more than floating debris—become either home to or sustenance for a range of plants and animals that change the properties of the wood dramatically. This is an example.

Shine on, you crazy diamond

Photo by S.W. Cosgrove

Good night, Emerald City, I’m on my way home across water. Shine on, you crazy diamond.

“Here in the corner attic of America, two hours’ drive from a rain forest, a desert, a foreign country, an empty island, a hidden fjord, a raging river, a glacier, and a volcano is a place where the inhabitants sense they can do no better, nor do they want to.”

– Timothy Egan, The Good Rain, Across Time and Terrain in the Pacific Northwest