i found this crawdaddy on the lawn in the middle of wooded island. i think she was in distress, probably dropped while being eaten by a bird or raccoon. i think her tail might have been et. 

yes i exploited her in extremis and yet at least now she will be witnessed and her beauty latterly featured. see copp's giant paw. he didn't even notice.

dad's august soul tree. the arm's that cannot hold me. bruce zachary shaeffer, b. august 20, 1937. 

dear, i saw a turtle today, and she saw me. 

enchanted glade

i then noticed copp was quietly getting love from a walker and she asked what i was photographing. i said, this. she said it reminds me of maine, this meadow. i miss maine, and the fisherman's shack on mud pond and christine. 

mary poppins blew them all away, but then she split on her umbrella as soon as the wind changed direction.

looking up. maybe to fly soon. in a bird. 

in the between.

lost child

the mundane egg.

i never explain.

play games. all sorts.

sleeping kuh in dark water 

spectral pidgeons 

i can't stay awake, i'll stay awake 

sweet grass 

the quiet feeling of the other who resides in me

the greening of died woody

his quality of waiting quietens the heart 

things half way in shadow and half way in light.  bert, mary poppins 

until the wind changes 

watching fat humans suffer for their sins.

when the kids say like what does it mean. is it like a metaphor. is it life at a remove.

i don't know what the hell you're talking about. why do i always shout fuckin son of a whore at the slightest mishap?

winds in the east. mist comin in. like somethin is brewin, about to begin. can't put me finger on what lies in store. but i feel what's to happen all happened before.

you see, father, it was windy, and the wind was too strong for us. you see, sir, in a manner of speaking, it was the kite that ran away.