Tarmac ribbons criss-crossing the landscape, dusty back roads twisting between the cool shadows of ancient pines, and less traveled pathways connecting present to past, all I wander, seeking, seeing, with my keyboard and camera capturing scenes and stories to share with you.

Now in its sixth year, this venue has become an important part of my life, a place where I can express my thoughts and feelings about the things I see and do, hoping the process brings me a bit closer to friends and family who enjoy sharing my sometimes chaotic and often nonlinear observations and ideas. A journal, I suppose, but one with which I find pleasure in thinking others are alongside me on my journey.

Comments, thoughts, or just a friendly chat, use the response box below or email me at patrickgroleau@gmail.com.

January 28, 2015

POLYCHROMATIC FASCINATION

... this evening i sat in my bay window to witness the end of day ...

... patterns gloriously strange appeared ...

... nature, using its words to speak to me ...

... me, for you and i, listening, hearing ...

... falling into time's never-ending chorus  ...

... a day spent outside in a frozen landscape, my body chilled, but, as if knowledge of my need existed, the warmth of my soul again restored ...

“A large drop of sun lingered on the horizon
and then dripped over and was gone,
and the sky was brilliant over the spot where it had gone,
and a torn cloud, like a bloody rag, hung over the spot of its going.
And dusk crept over the sky from the eastern horizon,
and darkness crept over the land from the east.” 
JOHN STEINBECK


POST BLIZZARD

... the blizzard finally began to dissipate during the middle of the night ... watching from my window, i observed the shop air conditioning unit had become a tiny bit surrealistic—or just plain weird—take your pick ...

... school was called, most likely because the crews were to spend much of the morning clearing all the parking lots, side roads and city streets, so john had the day off ... after a nice breakfast (translated: infinite coffee refills) we headed north to check on his camp ... along the way we stopped to examine one of hinkley school's many abandoned buildings, and, i suppose, admire nature's patience ...

... it was nice to be able to remove my watch cap ...
BY JOHN MEADER

... behind these doors, so many stories ...

... i think camp road signs are an art form all their own ...

... although the road had been plowed by one of the year-round residents, it was so icy beneath the thin layer of snow that john decided to not risk the hill in his honda mini-van ... truthfully, with the steepness of the slope and the fact that it's canted sideways, i'd not attempt this unless i had four-wheel drive with either studs or chains ... at times we had to walk in the deep snow to find firm footing ...

... after-the-storm quiet ...

... hanging above us, a "widow-maker" ...

... john's family camp on oaks pond ...

"The land looks like a fairytale."
ROALD AMUNDSEN

... blizzard's reward, an intense blue sky  ...

... ascending the icy road, i paused and listened to a whisper of autumn past ...

The woods are lovely, dark and deep, 
But I have promises to keep, 
And miles to go before I sleep, 
And miles to go before I sleep.
ROBERT FROST
BY JOHN MEADER

... along the river road we stopped by the side one of the flood family's farm fields ...

... perched atop the plowed snow ridge at the side of the road, i decided i'd get a better perspective if i moved a bit closer to the little tuft of grass in the foreground ... of course, i'd forgotten that there is a ditch along the highway and that after a blizzard it would be filled with finely powered snow ... one step and i was up to my armpits ... having to hold a very expensive camera/lens above my head, it was a bit of a struggle to get back to the road ...

... john was laughing ...

... and, of course, i laughed, too ... i mean, what's life if you can't get stuck in a snow-filled ditch every once in awhile ...