9000 Words

Photo credit:  Scott Cain  "Fall Twilight" At the woodlands trail head I pulled off the road To pause my evening commute Escape the GMC diesel For a chance to savor a leafy tea   of fall splendor   Alone in silence Betwixt with color Only wind in hand I will try and capture for you   This moment of autumnal magnificence  

  Photo credit:  Scott Cain  "Waterling" written for all The wonder I see in you May not be these moments captured for you To be sure they were found in the lonely  sought there with out And all with love for Because there is so much to say  While what Matters to me Is the love in your eyes  

  Photo credit:  Scott Cain  "In The Mud" In Mud Believe The boy drove the GMC diesel over the mud on top of the ball that floated around the fire in the nothing   He wheeled his way over by here and where he would spend the day burying his words in the muck In the darkness before the bluest of blue and the truest of true he could only imagine words seen by an assistant who helped lament them into the mire The assistant, a pious creature who scorned fantasy believed truth was as true as caribou and no slop could stop him Was unlike the boy who saw words on the wall born of make believe were destined to become true and again buried beneath the guck back into fantasy His assistant, who screamed caribou and smoked doobies too, believed mud made no science nor fiction, only truth and any other nonsense was an affront to the name of the maker But the boy wondered why his little angel could neither see, nor hear the journey taken over and under the mud. How could this...

For my children,  I serious have a bad case of to much to do and no time. I miss you and I miss creative projects.  I yearn to connect with someone. I am worried that me being me is not enough to reveal my true affections. Are they in need, can I not see or understand it? Most of all I worry that I have been content to focus on the task before me, and not those dear to me. Last month I took a job an hour and fifteen minutes from my house. Turns out it was more than I bargained for. Five days a week I drive to work, I work, I drive home from work, I help with dinner, make short conversation with my family, then to bed and repeat. This is my life. It is by no means awful. I love what I do, I love my family, and I love my alone time during my drive to and fro. However, this schedule leaves me famished for creativity, and starved for connection. So here is a little something. A lunch break something, a photo essay called “What the hell is he doing today?”. It is a daily photo...

  I told myself to ignore the bright sunshine   At a table on a deck my seat in the warm summer sun   I listen to waves softly lap against the shore. I told myself to ignore how hot I felt From the woods to my back a cool breeze touches my neck   I listen to the quiet   I told myself to squelch the creeping feeling of a hangover   In my hand a fresh cup of black coffee   I listen to the cheerful clank of halyards against aluminum masts I told my self to ignore the problems of my life In front of me two dogs roll and play in the grass at my feet I listen to a loon in the distance I told my self to be grateful   This is a moment is denied to many   I listen to the sounds of a warm summer morning Photo credit:  Scott Cain

The wind is up this morning  And I’m wondering which of my halyards is loose Do your dreams clang an aluminum clang like mine It blows the water into dark blue patches  And I wonder if the lighting on the horizon is coming this way Would you take a float of this moment at my side Waves are building with the breeze  And I anxious about my mooring lines Are too your worries awash as mine in ever impending storms Photo credit:  Scott Cain

Photo credit:  Scott Cain