Contemplative Photographer
@dwalkerarts.bsky.social
Contemplative artist, poet, photographer, playwright, news announcer… happy to be here.
Even on the gray days,
People are still working,
And I am working, too,
Trying to find light
between the grays
Trying to welcome the contrast
The dark provides;
Greeting it with love, not hate,
To soften its hard edges.
People are still working,
And I am working, too,
Trying to find light
between the grays
Trying to welcome the contrast
The dark provides;
Greeting it with love, not hate,
To soften its hard edges.
February 2, 2026 at 4:22 PM
Even on the gray days,
People are still working,
And I am working, too,
Trying to find light
between the grays
Trying to welcome the contrast
The dark provides;
Greeting it with love, not hate,
To soften its hard edges.
People are still working,
And I am working, too,
Trying to find light
between the grays
Trying to welcome the contrast
The dark provides;
Greeting it with love, not hate,
To soften its hard edges.
I watch my cat stare fixedly
At a painting
I’d stacked on the floor,
And wonder: what are his thoughts
As he stares, and what is it
That engages him —
Or did he just happen to fall asleep
In that spot on the rug
Instead of my lap?
I know he loves music;
What if he also loves art?
At a painting
I’d stacked on the floor,
And wonder: what are his thoughts
As he stares, and what is it
That engages him —
Or did he just happen to fall asleep
In that spot on the rug
Instead of my lap?
I know he loves music;
What if he also loves art?
February 1, 2026 at 3:30 PM
I watch my cat stare fixedly
At a painting
I’d stacked on the floor,
And wonder: what are his thoughts
As he stares, and what is it
That engages him —
Or did he just happen to fall asleep
In that spot on the rug
Instead of my lap?
I know he loves music;
What if he also loves art?
At a painting
I’d stacked on the floor,
And wonder: what are his thoughts
As he stares, and what is it
That engages him —
Or did he just happen to fall asleep
In that spot on the rug
Instead of my lap?
I know he loves music;
What if he also loves art?
I know it can be dark these days,
But somewhere in this night
Though it be tucked behind a cloud
There is a light that shines.
And if you cannot see that light,
It may be time for you
to be that light
For others,
who also struggle in the dark.
But somewhere in this night
Though it be tucked behind a cloud
There is a light that shines.
And if you cannot see that light,
It may be time for you
to be that light
For others,
who also struggle in the dark.
January 31, 2026 at 3:28 PM
I know it can be dark these days,
But somewhere in this night
Though it be tucked behind a cloud
There is a light that shines.
And if you cannot see that light,
It may be time for you
to be that light
For others,
who also struggle in the dark.
But somewhere in this night
Though it be tucked behind a cloud
There is a light that shines.
And if you cannot see that light,
It may be time for you
to be that light
For others,
who also struggle in the dark.
I watch the seagulls,
And they watch me,
Occasionally engaging
On this gray and windy day,
And their full white breasts
Bring back memories of the goose
I once held in my arms
And mothered into adulthood.
These animals
have so much to teach us.
When will we stop and listen?
And they watch me,
Occasionally engaging
On this gray and windy day,
And their full white breasts
Bring back memories of the goose
I once held in my arms
And mothered into adulthood.
These animals
have so much to teach us.
When will we stop and listen?
January 30, 2026 at 4:34 PM
I watch the seagulls,
And they watch me,
Occasionally engaging
On this gray and windy day,
And their full white breasts
Bring back memories of the goose
I once held in my arms
And mothered into adulthood.
These animals
have so much to teach us.
When will we stop and listen?
And they watch me,
Occasionally engaging
On this gray and windy day,
And their full white breasts
Bring back memories of the goose
I once held in my arms
And mothered into adulthood.
These animals
have so much to teach us.
When will we stop and listen?
There’s something about
the joy otters find
Both on the water’s surface
And in its depths,
And the way they float
While carrying their young
That seems so open, and tender…
So I totally understand
Why an artist would choose
to recreate them
And why my town would
place them here
For all to enjoy.
the joy otters find
Both on the water’s surface
And in its depths,
And the way they float
While carrying their young
That seems so open, and tender…
So I totally understand
Why an artist would choose
to recreate them
And why my town would
place them here
For all to enjoy.
January 29, 2026 at 3:46 PM
There’s something about
the joy otters find
Both on the water’s surface
And in its depths,
And the way they float
While carrying their young
That seems so open, and tender…
So I totally understand
Why an artist would choose
to recreate them
And why my town would
place them here
For all to enjoy.
the joy otters find
Both on the water’s surface
And in its depths,
And the way they float
While carrying their young
That seems so open, and tender…
So I totally understand
Why an artist would choose
to recreate them
And why my town would
place them here
For all to enjoy.
This photo was taken at sunrise,
But my camera was facing west:
Quite a surprise!
Just a reminder:
Beauty can be found
In unexpected places,
So be brave, and bold,
And look about you:
There is always beauty somewhere.
Find it, and let it feed your soul.
But my camera was facing west:
Quite a surprise!
Just a reminder:
Beauty can be found
In unexpected places,
So be brave, and bold,
And look about you:
There is always beauty somewhere.
Find it, and let it feed your soul.
January 28, 2026 at 10:51 PM
This photo was taken at sunrise,
But my camera was facing west:
Quite a surprise!
Just a reminder:
Beauty can be found
In unexpected places,
So be brave, and bold,
And look about you:
There is always beauty somewhere.
Find it, and let it feed your soul.
But my camera was facing west:
Quite a surprise!
Just a reminder:
Beauty can be found
In unexpected places,
So be brave, and bold,
And look about you:
There is always beauty somewhere.
Find it, and let it feed your soul.
Help us always
To see beyond the distractions
To the vulnerability that lies waiting
To be tenderly cared for
And gently exposed to the light.
To see beyond the distractions
To the vulnerability that lies waiting
To be tenderly cared for
And gently exposed to the light.
January 27, 2026 at 4:16 PM
Help us always
To see beyond the distractions
To the vulnerability that lies waiting
To be tenderly cared for
And gently exposed to the light.
To see beyond the distractions
To the vulnerability that lies waiting
To be tenderly cared for
And gently exposed to the light.
Lately I have found myself
Complaining about politics,
And though I can’t deny
My complaints
are well deserved,
I need to return to that space
In my heart
where peace is found,
And to focus on nurturing that
Til it spreads beyond
My feeble soul
And reaches out to soften
the conflicts of the world.
Complaining about politics,
And though I can’t deny
My complaints
are well deserved,
I need to return to that space
In my heart
where peace is found,
And to focus on nurturing that
Til it spreads beyond
My feeble soul
And reaches out to soften
the conflicts of the world.
January 26, 2026 at 2:27 PM
Lately I have found myself
Complaining about politics,
And though I can’t deny
My complaints
are well deserved,
I need to return to that space
In my heart
where peace is found,
And to focus on nurturing that
Til it spreads beyond
My feeble soul
And reaches out to soften
the conflicts of the world.
Complaining about politics,
And though I can’t deny
My complaints
are well deserved,
I need to return to that space
In my heart
where peace is found,
And to focus on nurturing that
Til it spreads beyond
My feeble soul
And reaches out to soften
the conflicts of the world.
Today we mourn the collapse
Of something beautiful,
And weep for the loss
Of the ideals we held dear:
How could so many folks condone
This senseless killing?
Of something beautiful,
And weep for the loss
Of the ideals we held dear:
How could so many folks condone
This senseless killing?
January 25, 2026 at 3:00 PM
Today we mourn the collapse
Of something beautiful,
And weep for the loss
Of the ideals we held dear:
How could so many folks condone
This senseless killing?
Of something beautiful,
And weep for the loss
Of the ideals we held dear:
How could so many folks condone
This senseless killing?
Perhaps it was a mistake to choose
As the symbol of our nation
A huge angry predator
Always alert for prey
And determined to be master
Of all that he surveys.
As the symbol of our nation
A huge angry predator
Always alert for prey
And determined to be master
Of all that he surveys.
January 24, 2026 at 4:30 PM
Perhaps it was a mistake to choose
As the symbol of our nation
A huge angry predator
Always alert for prey
And determined to be master
Of all that he surveys.
As the symbol of our nation
A huge angry predator
Always alert for prey
And determined to be master
Of all that he surveys.
The slow disintegration
of this cabin
Echoes
The slow disintegration
Of the values we hold dear,
Ideals embedded in our constitution,
In our faith,
And in our hearts:
Freedom, compassion, equality —
All crumbling as we watch…
of this cabin
Echoes
The slow disintegration
Of the values we hold dear,
Ideals embedded in our constitution,
In our faith,
And in our hearts:
Freedom, compassion, equality —
All crumbling as we watch…
January 23, 2026 at 5:28 PM
The slow disintegration
of this cabin
Echoes
The slow disintegration
Of the values we hold dear,
Ideals embedded in our constitution,
In our faith,
And in our hearts:
Freedom, compassion, equality —
All crumbling as we watch…
of this cabin
Echoes
The slow disintegration
Of the values we hold dear,
Ideals embedded in our constitution,
In our faith,
And in our hearts:
Freedom, compassion, equality —
All crumbling as we watch…
Early morning, and the sun is low,
The mist is rising
From the frosted lawn,
And the apple trees,
So barren in winter,
Cast long, mysterious,
inviting shadows
Expanding across the path of light
The mist is rising
From the frosted lawn,
And the apple trees,
So barren in winter,
Cast long, mysterious,
inviting shadows
Expanding across the path of light
January 22, 2026 at 1:27 PM
Early morning, and the sun is low,
The mist is rising
From the frosted lawn,
And the apple trees,
So barren in winter,
Cast long, mysterious,
inviting shadows
Expanding across the path of light
The mist is rising
From the frosted lawn,
And the apple trees,
So barren in winter,
Cast long, mysterious,
inviting shadows
Expanding across the path of light
I wish, like this brave soul,
I could rise above the controversies
Tearing my country —
and my soul — apart.
And yet, there may be
things that I can do
Here, on the ground,
To find the threads of compassion
That once bound our souls together
And re-weave them into
A basketful of hope…
I could rise above the controversies
Tearing my country —
and my soul — apart.
And yet, there may be
things that I can do
Here, on the ground,
To find the threads of compassion
That once bound our souls together
And re-weave them into
A basketful of hope…
January 21, 2026 at 5:05 PM
I wish, like this brave soul,
I could rise above the controversies
Tearing my country —
and my soul — apart.
And yet, there may be
things that I can do
Here, on the ground,
To find the threads of compassion
That once bound our souls together
And re-weave them into
A basketful of hope…
I could rise above the controversies
Tearing my country —
and my soul — apart.
And yet, there may be
things that I can do
Here, on the ground,
To find the threads of compassion
That once bound our souls together
And re-weave them into
A basketful of hope…
Waiting last night
For the northern lights,
My camera full of colors
From an earlier sunset
And sparkles from
that morning’s frost,
It seemed fitting
That the sky remained as black
As the clothing worn
By the women in black,
Who stood that afternoon
To mourn the violence
Disturbing our fair country.
For the northern lights,
My camera full of colors
From an earlier sunset
And sparkles from
that morning’s frost,
It seemed fitting
That the sky remained as black
As the clothing worn
By the women in black,
Who stood that afternoon
To mourn the violence
Disturbing our fair country.
January 20, 2026 at 3:29 PM
Waiting last night
For the northern lights,
My camera full of colors
From an earlier sunset
And sparkles from
that morning’s frost,
It seemed fitting
That the sky remained as black
As the clothing worn
By the women in black,
Who stood that afternoon
To mourn the violence
Disturbing our fair country.
For the northern lights,
My camera full of colors
From an earlier sunset
And sparkles from
that morning’s frost,
It seemed fitting
That the sky remained as black
As the clothing worn
By the women in black,
Who stood that afternoon
To mourn the violence
Disturbing our fair country.
When so much seems dark,
The mountain that lies
Beyond my window
Reminds me the world
Is larger than this;
That the sun still rises,
There is still beauty,
And all is not yet lost.
The mountain that lies
Beyond my window
Reminds me the world
Is larger than this;
That the sun still rises,
There is still beauty,
And all is not yet lost.
January 19, 2026 at 4:11 PM
When so much seems dark,
The mountain that lies
Beyond my window
Reminds me the world
Is larger than this;
That the sun still rises,
There is still beauty,
And all is not yet lost.
The mountain that lies
Beyond my window
Reminds me the world
Is larger than this;
That the sun still rises,
There is still beauty,
And all is not yet lost.
Asked why I meditate,
I might respond, “because
Things are pretty rocky now,
And meditation takes me
Across the ruffled waters
of my thoughts
To a kinder, gentler place
Where I feel at home,
and grounded;
Where dark and light coexist
Instead of being opposites
And I can be at peace.
I might respond, “because
Things are pretty rocky now,
And meditation takes me
Across the ruffled waters
of my thoughts
To a kinder, gentler place
Where I feel at home,
and grounded;
Where dark and light coexist
Instead of being opposites
And I can be at peace.
January 18, 2026 at 3:22 PM
Asked why I meditate,
I might respond, “because
Things are pretty rocky now,
And meditation takes me
Across the ruffled waters
of my thoughts
To a kinder, gentler place
Where I feel at home,
and grounded;
Where dark and light coexist
Instead of being opposites
And I can be at peace.
I might respond, “because
Things are pretty rocky now,
And meditation takes me
Across the ruffled waters
of my thoughts
To a kinder, gentler place
Where I feel at home,
and grounded;
Where dark and light coexist
Instead of being opposites
And I can be at peace.
This was what I needed
to see today:
That when things are broken
Or get knocked down,
It doesn’t mean the end,
Any more than falling leaves
Mean spring won’t come again.
This tree fell many years ago,
Yet still, each fall
it’s covered with leaves and apples.
We, too, will find a way to recover.
to see today:
That when things are broken
Or get knocked down,
It doesn’t mean the end,
Any more than falling leaves
Mean spring won’t come again.
This tree fell many years ago,
Yet still, each fall
it’s covered with leaves and apples.
We, too, will find a way to recover.
January 17, 2026 at 4:24 PM
This was what I needed
to see today:
That when things are broken
Or get knocked down,
It doesn’t mean the end,
Any more than falling leaves
Mean spring won’t come again.
This tree fell many years ago,
Yet still, each fall
it’s covered with leaves and apples.
We, too, will find a way to recover.
to see today:
That when things are broken
Or get knocked down,
It doesn’t mean the end,
Any more than falling leaves
Mean spring won’t come again.
This tree fell many years ago,
Yet still, each fall
it’s covered with leaves and apples.
We, too, will find a way to recover.
Never lose your curiosity.
Don’t ignore what’s underfoot,
Or overhead
Because it’s unappealing.
Appreciate the small:
A three-leaf clover has its charm,
Though it lacks the fourth leaf’s
Wishful properties,
And a single blade of grass,
between your thumbs,
Can whistle just as loudly
As a teakettle.
Don’t ignore what’s underfoot,
Or overhead
Because it’s unappealing.
Appreciate the small:
A three-leaf clover has its charm,
Though it lacks the fourth leaf’s
Wishful properties,
And a single blade of grass,
between your thumbs,
Can whistle just as loudly
As a teakettle.
January 15, 2026 at 11:33 AM
Never lose your curiosity.
Don’t ignore what’s underfoot,
Or overhead
Because it’s unappealing.
Appreciate the small:
A three-leaf clover has its charm,
Though it lacks the fourth leaf’s
Wishful properties,
And a single blade of grass,
between your thumbs,
Can whistle just as loudly
As a teakettle.
Don’t ignore what’s underfoot,
Or overhead
Because it’s unappealing.
Appreciate the small:
A three-leaf clover has its charm,
Though it lacks the fourth leaf’s
Wishful properties,
And a single blade of grass,
between your thumbs,
Can whistle just as loudly
As a teakettle.
Somehow, to save us all,
We have to find a way to walk
Between opposing certainties;
To resist the urge
to climb the fence
To safety and security
Where all is black and white,
But cling to gray, to ambiguity,
To possibility and hope.
We have to find a way to walk
Between opposing certainties;
To resist the urge
to climb the fence
To safety and security
Where all is black and white,
But cling to gray, to ambiguity,
To possibility and hope.
January 14, 2026 at 5:47 PM
Somehow, to save us all,
We have to find a way to walk
Between opposing certainties;
To resist the urge
to climb the fence
To safety and security
Where all is black and white,
But cling to gray, to ambiguity,
To possibility and hope.
We have to find a way to walk
Between opposing certainties;
To resist the urge
to climb the fence
To safety and security
Where all is black and white,
But cling to gray, to ambiguity,
To possibility and hope.
It struck me as odd,
To see the mature gulls
Gathered on the right
And the young ones
Perched on the left;
The young ones quiet,
The older ones all huffy,
And protecting their space…
It’s sad to think we humans seem
Unable to outgrow this territoriality…
To see the mature gulls
Gathered on the right
And the young ones
Perched on the left;
The young ones quiet,
The older ones all huffy,
And protecting their space…
It’s sad to think we humans seem
Unable to outgrow this territoriality…
January 13, 2026 at 3:16 PM
It struck me as odd,
To see the mature gulls
Gathered on the right
And the young ones
Perched on the left;
The young ones quiet,
The older ones all huffy,
And protecting their space…
It’s sad to think we humans seem
Unable to outgrow this territoriality…
To see the mature gulls
Gathered on the right
And the young ones
Perched on the left;
The young ones quiet,
The older ones all huffy,
And protecting their space…
It’s sad to think we humans seem
Unable to outgrow this territoriality…
I want a leader
Who doesn’t keep making it rain
Just so we can see his reflection
In the puddle,
Making him loom twice as large…
Who doesn’t keep making it rain
Just so we can see his reflection
In the puddle,
Making him loom twice as large…
January 12, 2026 at 4:46 PM
I want a leader
Who doesn’t keep making it rain
Just so we can see his reflection
In the puddle,
Making him loom twice as large…
Who doesn’t keep making it rain
Just so we can see his reflection
In the puddle,
Making him loom twice as large…
These aged doors remind us
Of a time when craftsmanship
was valued,
And people had — or took —
the time
To invest the ordinary with beauty,
Not hurrying to get it done
Or living by the modern rule:
“You can have it fast,
or cheap, or good:
Pick any two,” when nowadays
We’re lucky to get one…
Of a time when craftsmanship
was valued,
And people had — or took —
the time
To invest the ordinary with beauty,
Not hurrying to get it done
Or living by the modern rule:
“You can have it fast,
or cheap, or good:
Pick any two,” when nowadays
We’re lucky to get one…
January 11, 2026 at 2:39 PM
These aged doors remind us
Of a time when craftsmanship
was valued,
And people had — or took —
the time
To invest the ordinary with beauty,
Not hurrying to get it done
Or living by the modern rule:
“You can have it fast,
or cheap, or good:
Pick any two,” when nowadays
We’re lucky to get one…
Of a time when craftsmanship
was valued,
And people had — or took —
the time
To invest the ordinary with beauty,
Not hurrying to get it done
Or living by the modern rule:
“You can have it fast,
or cheap, or good:
Pick any two,” when nowadays
We’re lucky to get one…
Within our souls, there is a place
that looks and feels like this:
A place from which
Wisdom and comfort flow;
The root of our compassion,
A source of all creative thought,
Feeding hope and courage
When things seem insurmountable.
Go there to be restored,
And find the strength
to fight another day.
that looks and feels like this:
A place from which
Wisdom and comfort flow;
The root of our compassion,
A source of all creative thought,
Feeding hope and courage
When things seem insurmountable.
Go there to be restored,
And find the strength
to fight another day.
January 10, 2026 at 4:54 PM
Within our souls, there is a place
that looks and feels like this:
A place from which
Wisdom and comfort flow;
The root of our compassion,
A source of all creative thought,
Feeding hope and courage
When things seem insurmountable.
Go there to be restored,
And find the strength
to fight another day.
that looks and feels like this:
A place from which
Wisdom and comfort flow;
The root of our compassion,
A source of all creative thought,
Feeding hope and courage
When things seem insurmountable.
Go there to be restored,
And find the strength
to fight another day.
Astonishing,
that when things look so dark,
The Sun still rises in the morning,
Bathing the world in colors so rich,
One might think
we’d never want for more—
That is, of course, until they fade
Again to gray,
Extinguished by the cruelty of ICE.
that when things look so dark,
The Sun still rises in the morning,
Bathing the world in colors so rich,
One might think
we’d never want for more—
That is, of course, until they fade
Again to gray,
Extinguished by the cruelty of ICE.
January 9, 2026 at 4:53 PM
Astonishing,
that when things look so dark,
The Sun still rises in the morning,
Bathing the world in colors so rich,
One might think
we’d never want for more—
That is, of course, until they fade
Again to gray,
Extinguished by the cruelty of ICE.
that when things look so dark,
The Sun still rises in the morning,
Bathing the world in colors so rich,
One might think
we’d never want for more—
That is, of course, until they fade
Again to gray,
Extinguished by the cruelty of ICE.
The evidence is there,
Right in front of us, of wrongdoing,
And still there are those
Who would defend it with lies.
We watch in horror, wondering,
What next offense will be revealed,
And now it’s not just my poetry,
But hers that’s been diverted
By the ugliness of this administration.
Right in front of us, of wrongdoing,
And still there are those
Who would defend it with lies.
We watch in horror, wondering,
What next offense will be revealed,
And now it’s not just my poetry,
But hers that’s been diverted
By the ugliness of this administration.
January 8, 2026 at 2:57 PM
The evidence is there,
Right in front of us, of wrongdoing,
And still there are those
Who would defend it with lies.
We watch in horror, wondering,
What next offense will be revealed,
And now it’s not just my poetry,
But hers that’s been diverted
By the ugliness of this administration.
Right in front of us, of wrongdoing,
And still there are those
Who would defend it with lies.
We watch in horror, wondering,
What next offense will be revealed,
And now it’s not just my poetry,
But hers that’s been diverted
By the ugliness of this administration.