Autumn Leaves


Contemplative Photography

Palm Leaves

Palm Leaves





Afternoon Bridge

Peach light bathes the air,
encouraging the corners of a genuine smile.
Sweet air taps you on the shoulder and 
tousles wisps of hair.

This childlike mood,
that sees every tulip bloom
 and hears the song of each auburn-bellied bird,
it is lovely.

We are made for these moments.
We are made for these moods.
This afternoon, it is made for us.

– Caitlin Wetzel


Moment of Peace – Golan Heights

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven … A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.

– Ecclesiastes

Contemplative Photography

Autumn Trees

“I prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape – the loneliness of it, the dead feeling of winter.
Something waits beneath it, the whole story doesn’t show.”

-Andrew Wyeth


Contemplative Photography

Evening Mountain

“All the birds have flown up and gone;
 A lonely cloud floats leisurely by.
We never tire of looking at each other – 
Only the mountain and I”.

– Li Po

Evening Mountain


The Pantheon

Walking through these ancient streets
Where millions walked beneath my feet
Where an empire was built
Where an empire was lost
Where parties where thrown
With momentous costs
All is ruin
And all is now gone
And with them we will someday follow
Into histories never ending song

-Adam Smith

The Pantheon


Alone On The Dock

The sun dips below  
dusting the horizon 
illuminating the sky
These are the watercolors 
from the pallete 
of the divine
The rain has ceased 
the sun is gone 
the air cooled 

I am left, 
thankful for the chance 
to see the evening  sky.
– Jessica M. Martin
(from her poem-Sunset on the Bay)

Alone On The Dock


Floating Flowers

Do not pity the flower that flies off
Grieve for the western garden
It fallen red already beyond mending
Now, after the morning rain
What’s left?
A pond full of broken duckweed
If the tree parts of spring
two turn to dust
One to the flowing water
Look –
These are not catkins
Bud the drop after drop of parted lover’s tears.
-Shui lung yin