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In black and white photography you have to see differently. Black and white are merely shades of gray. If you take away color, the pigment that paints a picture in our mind, you realize there are no opposite poles. Black and white are connected through a sea of gray. At what point does gray become white or black? Without reds, oranges and yellows to signal heat, alarm or excitement, without blues and greens to signal coolness, peace and tranquility, they all become the same,

She is a girl that loves her goose. A goose she adopted, that was orphaned and needed someone to raise it, and give it love. When I first met Allie, she and I were in the Master Naturalist class that is held every year through Phinizy Swamp Nature Park. I remember her telling me that she had a new family member, and it was a goose. Because of this, the two of us became friends rapidly. We had something in common: a love for these monotone-colored birds of gray - the Canada go

Thanks to Jim Garvey for capturing this shot of me shooting the waves. A ghost forest with dead and dying trees thanks to climate change and salt water intrusion. A puzzle in the den. The "Octopus Tree" Time passes in front of your eyes here. Footprints wash away and shells are sucked back into the current with each wave. On a humid summer morning I sat on the beach facing eastward, towards the ocean, on a deteriorated erosion piling. The waves crashed around me and the soft,

In the dictionary, Second Sight is the ability to see the future. A view of what is ahead, like an extra sense. Second Sight is also...

Those words seem so terminal, so final. The saw rips through the bark, shavings fly in the air as the teeth of a saw whine into the trunk...

On this Earth Day, my life went on like any other. Busy with work, a lunch meeting, then as I was heading to my car I noticed something....

As an amateur farmer, I have taken enough time to marvel at how a tiny seed, encased in a hard shell, will sprout and grow when exposed...

Spring If hope is to exist, there has to be Spring. Spring shows us that even when all has died, we have another chance. It is the season...

To me, the best part about being alive are the rewards and punishments of our senses. It is what makes us alive. Whether sight, hearing,...

This morning, as I write this blog, my hot cup of tea muses me with the swirling steam rising from the mug. The steam seems to dance with...

Last night, I made an impulse run to the Fresh Market, just about a mile or two from the house. It was one of those trips that really...

On a cold, but clear February day, I made a hasty decision to make a short trip to the Okefenokee, for one reason: to capture the night...

Yesterday was Valentine's Day and this is the time of year in the South, when we start to really seriously think of Spring. The first...

Detail of the Hollow Tree. Remains of a once active cypress timber industry on Billy's Island within the Okefenokee Swamp. On the western...

Now that it is February I can talk about January. I feel like a teenager with a group of new friends, talking down about someone who has...

Recently, I was allowed to set up shop with my books and photographs at a craft sale in Sacred Heart Cultural Center. It was just before...

Today, we had a snow day. A day when the roads are treacherous and white snow covers everything outdoors. The highs will only reach the...

We rise after a good night's sleep, stretch our arms into the air, and smile like a model in a sleep aid commercial. Refreshed and ready...

I plan to be back in this setting again. It was wet. Every time I knelt down on the ground I felt cold, muddy moisture seeping through my...

It's a phrase I remember hearing in my youth quite often. Usually, projected by my parents when they were disgusted with something that...