I have no faith that humanity will ever evolve sufficiently to understand that war is not necessary, and is an expensive rage against reason. Still, a pretty tank, me thinks.
Living things become old and die. Man made things will also perish, if not maintained. Paint peels, mortar crumbles, and bricks will fall to the earth and break apart.
Summer yields to autumn, and in so doing offers a wondrous departure.
Just when I thought I’d seen it all. While shooting, it felt like I was being watched.
An unknown, for me, the question of religion in general, and the afterlife in particular.
Late last fall I scooped up this leaf and shot this image at home. Somehow, even in the throes of death it remained gorgeous, maintaining a dignified and regal presence.
Thank goodness for my snowblower. 12 more inches. I’d be dead shoveling.