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Trace Journals @tracejournals.bsky.social · 1d

Well the sun is surely sinking down
But the moon is slowly rising
So this old world must still
Be spinning round
And I still love you

And the deer on the hill…

6

Trace Journals @tracejournals.bsky.social · 2d

October 18th should be Day ONE of a GENERAL STRIKE… not one day of protest.

3

Trace Journals @tracejournals.bsky.social · 4d

Day after day
It never gets old
The same walk
In different light
Day after day
The scents and smells
And birds singing their edges
While the moon grows imperceptibly full or new
Everyday I learn how to say goodbye.

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Trace Journals @tracejournals.bsky.social · 10d

New York Fern in Pennsylvania.
At end of generation, a season, a life, an incarnation… fading into the future.

10

Trace Journals @tracejournals.bsky.social · 11d

Definitely Elon Musk…

Trace Journals @tracejournals.bsky.social · 13d

Imagining a future.

A dream waiting for a breeze
To lift it into the ether
The fifth element.

8

Trace Journals @tracejournals.bsky.social · 16d

Equinox. Equidiem.
Autumn becomes the day and night.

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Trace Journals @tracejournals.bsky.social · 18d

Accidental Cornell Box

1 19

Trace Journals @tracejournals.bsky.social · 28d

Not safe to be a child in school or church or to be black or brown or… be a woman. Get real…

2 5

Trace Journals @tracejournals.bsky.social · 29d

’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

Lewis Carroll

22

Trace Journals @tracejournals.bsky.social · Sep 8

Locust in the parking lot.
Paradise Paved.

12

Trace Journals @tracejournals.bsky.social · Sep 2

Thank you @fotografiadeautor.bsky.social

1

Trace Journals @tracejournals.bsky.social · Sep 1

Day after day
Leaves at the edges
And then they are gone

2 1 25

Trace Journals @tracejournals.bsky.social · Aug 29

Event Horizon

Time slows
Beauty is enhanced
Perspective shifts
Nothing has changed
Everything is different

1 14

Trace Journals @tracejournals.bsky.social · Aug 25

Dyer’s Polypore
Fungal inspiration for new museum building.

11

Trace Journals @tracejournals.bsky.social · Aug 23

Before the Blight
by Ruth Stone

…My lips whispered over the names of things in the meadows, in the orchard, in the woods, where I sometimes stood for long moments listening to some bird telling me of the strangeness of myself; rocked in the sinewy arms of summer.

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Trace Journals @tracejournals.bsky.social · Aug 19

And he sat outside to wait while night fell.

One of his sons brought all the straw he could find, but it
filled the room only halfway.
Another brought all the sand he could carry, but again half
the room was left empty.
The third lit a candle.
And the room was filled.

1

Trace Journals @tracejournals.bsky.social · Aug 19

DAY OF LIGHT
It happened in Africa, in Ife, the sacred city of the Yoruba kingdom, maybe on a day like today or who knows when.
An old man, very ill, brought his three sons before him and announced: "My most cherished things will belong to the one who can fill this room completely."
(Cont)

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Trace Journals @tracejournals.bsky.social · Aug 17

The Bridge

At the arc in the path
Is a bridge to cross.
Autumn curves into Winter.
Time is the dance of the sun and the moon.
Each counting differently.
It is just this way.