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Discussion Starter · #43 · (Edited)
The birds, bugs, coyotes, deer and plants are excited by the spring rains we’re getting.








This is my favorite photo I’ve taken in a while, an impulse shot that surprised me.



These smell better than they look:






CW
 

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Discussion Starter · #45 ·











Foxglove





Oregon Grape


Lots of bright green new growth on the Grand Fir





It’s so nice to get a good soaking rain. 1.45” in the last 24 hours at home.

CW
 

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Discussion Starter · #46 · (Edited)
I like the texture contrasts with this lichen and wet fern. The colors look enhanced or filtered, but aren’t.




 

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Discussion Starter · #50 ·
Wow, temps at my house were 106 Sat, 113F yesterday and I don’t know today. We went up the Kalama River a ways to cool off. Bingo fetched some sticks but then did some rock bobbing .




























Now it’s 67 F and so refreshing.

CW
 

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Discussion Starter · #53 ·


It may be “Bingo’s Pool”


But it is her bridge.



I thought I’d snap this when she visited between dropping trees.



And again, Bingo photo-bombs us. Smirking in this one.





Red alder grove


CW
 

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Discussion Starter · #55 ·
The Columbia River near Abernathy Creek:



Flying Oz Monkeys?

 

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Discussion Starter · #58 · (Edited)
Winter slowly, very slowly, releases its dark, cold grip. Loss, overwhelmingness, ineffectualness, and a growing numbness to the mounting cruelty and pain
around me weigh heavily. I see suffering in ways that should make me feel thankful and appreciative of what I have, how I live. Still held by shadows of two good friends just gone, their void staggers. Images of combat afar become ice sickles growing inward, expanding, piercing, destroying. With less room for Life, Hope is dodgy.

And yet there are signs our planet has rounded the Equinox, passed that point in the arc, where day lengthens past night.

Within the past week the seemingly bare dirt has sprung new green growth throughout the woods in the hills above the Columbia River of Southwest Washington. Trilliums, triangles of white framed by triangles of dark, shiny green abound. This, and the happiness of a pup living things for the first time, brings a smile. Trees are budding, not leafing. Red currants add dots of impossible hot pink amongst soggy, dark rot. The adolescent dog grows his new, adult coat, no longer a fuzzy pup. Friends send me reports of spring Chinook getting caught from an old, broken wingdam in the river. Cold water surging through broken, black teeth. Cool grays and blues, with flashes of silver… and the water rushes on to the sea.

I saw my first Rufous backed hummingbird last week, about 2 weeks later than most years. I haven’t seen a Turkey vulture over the house yet - my signal that the Springers are as good as they’ll get this year.

Hoping for Hope.

Plodding slowly, a day at a time. using peripheral vision. A wise, large, gentle black dog touches me. He knows.

And I am grateful.

Grateful I was given a second chance. Grateful the 3” galvanized pipe that pierced the windshield and hit the seat where my face should be, missed. The nudge from the Left, that moved me and saved my life, took Zach’s in a messy car wreck at my favorite marina after I’d caught the first Springer of the year. Ten years now - I’m glad I’m still sober.

From nowhere the ghost of Corporal Coulter, a Ranger I knew so long ago, tells me

“Drive on soldier.”















Sprinkles help.


 

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Discussion Starter · #60 · (Edited)
Nice ones Steve.

Some 3-season days lately.




Today our squadron of violet green swallow arrived. And I saw the first Turkey vulture fly over my place of the year.







 
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