This crazed road is traversed by people in vehicles all the time! More on this crazy road right here. 

This is the same feeling we get around a smoothly burning fire. Inside of this is warmth that makes us disappear into a dream.

You can walk up to it, around, it under it, and past it, but it will ignore you just the same.

Water v. Rock. The sheer wall in the background was once different levels of this same river. 
My how time flies.
And takes everything with it.

Find yourself lost. Find yourself. Find.

The fisherman and the river. We know which came first. Now try dragging us away.

Never underestimate the power of a beautiful early sunrise. On any lake. Anywhere.

Yeah, that's my dad and my grandpa. Big Lake, Ontario, Canada circa 1969. These were the men that put the fire in me to fish for all things HUGE. I dreamed about catching fish like that when I was growing up.
I had to make a lot of mistakes and put my time in, but eventually, I landed one.
Now I was the one hooked.
http://www.liftbridgebooks.com/book/9781495123399 
For your reading enjoyment.

It's been raining for two or three days off and on. It's colder than it's been; it's wetter. The grass is growing exponentially. It makes work for those of us who work outside more difficult. Everyone is back inside after the long winter finally ended. I can't get in the garden. The sun's been up for hours but it's still dark. People in the area have been flooded out or at least been flooded in. (re: basements with failed pumps) 
If it was me that it happened to... I don't know for sure, but I still never complain about the rain.

"My fingers are poised. I long to touch you and revel in your waters; no longer does the winter hold us apart. Warm breezes are coming to join us and blow away our fears. Sunny days will come and drench us in the sweet-sweet heat of summer. I’ll watch again as the rain softly pelts your face; I’ll smile again and watch it all sweep downstream. I’d live here if you’d let me. I’d build a house next to yours and be your neighbor. We’ll look out the window at each other and wave. Your reeds can be my lawn; your cattails my trees. I’ll plant a garden of willows, and we’ll watch them grow." 
Another piece of my new story. Come and share it with me on April, 26th at Different Paths gallery in Brockport, NY 5-7pm.