Day 46

"Should auld acquaintance be forgot..."

Day 45

Solitaire

Day 44

Waiting for lunch, under the palms

Day 43

Nephew, Nintendo

Day 42

Half-off sale?

Day 41

Christmas magic

Day 40

My Christmas wish to all: Take joy in the simple pleasures--today and everyday--and most importantly, may you be surrounded by those you love.

Credits: "There is Sweet Music," words by Lord Alfred Tennyson, music by Edward Elgar, performed by The Cambridge Singers/John Rutter, director.

Day 39

"What child is this who laid to rest..."

Day 38

You better watch out, you better not cry...

Day 37

Spotted in my neighborhood on this first day of winter:

Santa the Pooh

Day 36

Small hands form a cradle

Day 35

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas...

Naughty or nice?

Day 34

Sharing the moment, II

Day 33

Sharing the moment

Day 32

Today is my birthday. After all these years (but who's counting?), my Mom still calls me her baby.

Hand in hand

Day 32

A plunge and a prayer

Day 31

Morning at the VFW, Whitefish, MT

Day 30

Gathering clouds over the Continental Divide

Day 29

Ice along the lakeshore

Day 28

Morning frost

Day 27

Ice crystals

Day 26

December Moon

Day 25

Feeling the chill of winter here in northwest Montana.

Sentinel at dusk

Day 24

Yesterday's commemoration of Pearl Harbor Day inspired me to dig through my archives for this image that I took at another WWII site. Same war, different shore. I remember being struck by the utter serenity of the scene, in sharp contrast to what had transpired there in an earlier generation.

Omaha Beach, Normandy

Day 23

Dust and dreams

Day 22

December 6. On this day five years ago we said goodbye to Dad. For over 66 years, Mom was ever at his side. "He was a very good man," she tells everyone, those memories thankfully still intact.

"He was a very good man"

Day 21

The last migration

  The Death Of The Bird

 For every bird there is this last migration;
 Once more the cooling year kindles her heart;
 With a warm passage to the summer station
 Love pricks the course in lights across the chart.

 Year after year a speck on the map divided
 By a whole hemisphere, summons her to come;
 Season after season, sure and safely guided,
 Going away she is also coming home;

 And being home, memory becomes a passion
 With which she feeds her brood and straws her nest;
 Aware of ghosts that haunt the heart's possession
 And exiled love mourning within the breast.

 The sands are green with a mirage of valleys;
 The palm-tree casts a shadow not its own;
 Down the long architrave of temple or palace
 Blows a cool air from moorland scraps of stone.

 And day by day the whisper of love grows stronger,
 The delicate voice, more urgent with despair,
 Custom and fear constraining her no longer,
 Drives her at last on the waste leagues of air.

 A vanishing speck in those inane dominions,
 Single and frail, uncertain of her place.
 Alone in the bright host of her companions,
 Lost in the blue unfriendliness of space.

 She feels it close now, the appointed season:
 The invisible thread is broken as she flies;
 Suddenly, without warning, without reason,
 The guiding spark of instinct winks and dies.

 Try as she will the trackless world delivers
 No way, the wilderness of light no sign,
 The immense and complex map of hills and rivers
 Mocks her small wisdom with its vast design.

 And darkness rises from the eastern valleys,
 And the winds buffet her with their hungry breath,
 And the great earth, with neither grief not malice,
 Receives the tiny burden of her death.

                                 -- A. D. Hope

Day 20

At St. Mary's Seminary

Day 19

Couple in plaid

Day 18

Apologies to my friends in cold climates, but this is winter in southern California.

Morning shower in Carlsbad

Day 17

My not-so-still life:

Skyping in the kitchen