Ten Thousand Miles

Blustery morning.

Rain overnight, bookended by snow.

Cold, bright Christmas Day.

12/25/2017

Bristol Cove, Highland Lake, Winstead, CT, 11/26/2020

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Approaching Storm , P.M. Rush Hour, N.J. Route 24, 8/8/2018

Sky-gazing on Halloween.

“The formula for doing a good job in photography is to think like a poet.” — Imogen Cunningham #WomensHistoryMonth 📷My Signature, 1973 #ICPCollections

Fog, Crest Drive, South Mountain Reservation, Millburn, NJ, Dec. 2, 2012. (c) Sealanehill, 2012 (Originally posted to Facebook, 12/2/2012; thought lost in massive file transfer screwup; but disgorged again by FB; and since I still like this picture, shared with a new audience.)

Across and Up, 4 Mar. 2018, Paris.

Tidal flat in evening sun, Advocate Harbor, NS, Canada, 7/13/2018.

Although @soulreserve has given me a bit of credit for this work, I regard myself as nothing more than her first audience. She captures Pilbara in my mind's eye most beautifully.

Songs of the Red Earth Elders

hear the voices rise in unison, even as the parched red earth sings, its dust shimmers on passing travellers;

the sun wildfire-like breaks into dawn, here are trees drawn, crowded along the banks of the sole muddy river, that crawls, cacophonous with the notes these men serenade;

striking wood: the gold of the prospectors ships of intruders visions of the future eroding peace, these frantic beating drums and ancient rhythms, encapsulate meaning into story story into lore lore into pure sensation;

the unbroken blue skies of the Pilbara, an umbrella under which salt is made, sweat is broken and blood is dyed, these textures are found embellished in summer hearts, that hum and console, a promise to the rugged land spread far beyond the eye.

© SoulReserve 2017 & © SeaLaneHill  (9/4/2017)

[Writing this poem was an experience for two reasons: One, that I recently heard the ‘tjaabi’, or song-making and singing of dream visions by the traditional custodians of the Pilbara land. The Aboriginal Elder who narrated the story behind the songs ensured that we were all transported to a time and place, and that we felt the red earth, the sole muddy river, the crowded trees and the blazing sun upon our skins. The exploitation of the aboriginal people, although not a prominent theme, is felt too through the songs and I have tried to incorporate some aspects. Two, I collaborated with @sealanehill who inspired me to delve deeper into the words, strengthen the constructs of this poem and build something that to me is of lasting value. He titled the poem - ‘Soulsongs of the Red Earth Elders’. But, since I believe I overuse the word - soul, I took the liberty to omit it, (sorry Chris!) and keep the title 'Songs of the Red Earth Elders’. I share the credits for this piece with him, of course.]