3 [shots] from a day in the life:

Falls Creek below, stars above:

It’s almost as if nothing ever quite ceases around here. Each blink of the eyes bringing an explosion of the next. Rain drips from the leaves and I know each clear drop by name. The skies grow gray, planes ceasing to travel. Mountains anchor horizons. The healthy body aches from the up and down, the attempted maintenance of equilibrium.

The earliest morning rolls into existence and our responsibilities fleck and wail and are captured like the weak-minded specters that commit the obvious crime of attempting to cherish things not the wind or the upturned leaves of birch that flair like a woman’s dress in a breeze or a man’s quick smile at the thought.

Photographs on the way to [Alaska]: