Friday, May 19, 2017

May 19, 2017 - Published: Arizona Highways Magazine's Friday Fotos Blog

Today's Friday Fotos theme was Catalina State Park in Tucson.  Here is the image that Arizona Highways Magazine included in their weekly Friday Fotos:

Friday, April 28, 2017

Published - Friday Fotos: Arizona Highways blog

This week's Arizona Highways Friday Fotos "Old and New" theme.

This is a Harris' Antelope Squirrel eating newly bloomed flowers from a Hops Bush at Desert Botanical Garden in Phoenix, Arizona on April 11, 2017. This squirrel was crawling from branch to branch eating as many flowers as it could while I was watching it for thirty minutes.

Monday, April 3, 2017

High Key Haiku

adjective: (of a photograph) having chiefly light tones, usually with little 
tonal contrast (distinguished from low-key ).

High Key photos and Haiku poetry to accompany each image.

Saturday, February 4, 2017

Published: Friday Fotos in Arizona Highways Magazine's blog

On Friday, February 3, 2017, my photo of a young Native American boy doing a Hoop Dance at The Heard Museum in Phoenix was published in Friday Fotos of Arizona Highways Magazine's blog. This week's theme was, 'sports'. The date of this cultural event was on Feb. 5, 2011.

Tuesday, January 17, 2017

Queen Butterfly Sold to

Today, my photo of a Queen Butterfly was sold to a collector from Olivette, Missouri.  Last month, I sold the same image through the same buyer with

See the DesignerPrints sale announcement page HERE

Prints for sale HERE

Monday, January 16, 2017

Feather and "Hope"

On January 12, 2016, a feather floated by on a pond at the Gilbert Preserve at Water Ranch in Gilbert, Arizona.  The poem that I have posted below is by one of my mother's favorite poets, Emily Dickinson. Link to the poem's source is HERE

“Hope” is the thing with feathers - (314)

Related Poem Content Details

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -
That perches in the soul -
And sings the tune without the words -
And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -
And sore must be the storm -
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm -

I’ve heard it in the chillest land -
And on the strangest Sea -
Yet - never - in Extremity,
It asked a crumb - of me.