Words&images - Blog Posts

       Last Light The last drops of the light. Light that is almost liquid. I am sure this light is the pastels that nature paints her masterpieces with.     dennis

  Home...

The smell of eggs frying on the stove still linger in your mind as you walk through the place you called home. Until a few minutes ago, this home was yours and the animals in the fields were your friends.

   The creek out back gave this world a reason for existence. The vegetables grew and the chickens laid eggs. The days were long, but the tired was beautiful. 

  Home is the area where the kids played and grew. Season after season, they prospered. Not prosper like the city folk, but like the country folk. Money was scarce, but happiness was abundant. Then more people started to move in across the valley and to chase their own version of this small perfect dream.

   Unfortunately, someone forgot to tell that little stream up the road a bit to increase its flow for those downstream. The stream flowed less and less. The water was becoming brackish.

   The man packed the old truck with the few belongings he owned. The two kids in the seat next to him and a photo of his wife’s grave next to the now dead tree, taped to the dashboard…

    life, interrupted…dennis

"On a Dark Desert Highway,Cool Wind in My Hair..." Your eyes settle on the faint outline of a dust devil swirling near the far off mountain. The day is cool and there is a softness in the air. Still, something is unsettling,something is ajar . Whoosh... Then you realize the romantic vision of this valley you had is being distorted by the vigorous growth of a new forest. A contemporary forest . A forest for the "new" age. A place where these "trees" are planted and grow to full maturity in weeks, not years. A forest of sight and sound, of light and shadow. Whoosh...Whoosh... The sound fills your head and then settles in your heart. This beautiful valley is now the power for your cell phones and devices. Because power is what a contemporary forest is all about. Grand and beautiful power. Whoosh...Whoosh...Whoosh... These trees do not have a flavor.They cling to your sight and sing to your ears. Still they do not smell fresh. They leave a slight "sour" taste in the back of your throat; a sadness as much as a taste. The contemporary tree is not about pleasure like its counterparts in the natural world, it is all about power. Whoosh...Whoosh...Whoosh... Cry these "contemporaries"and my soul.....dennis