January 31st. : My Dearest Meredith

I'm finding grief not a series of stages but rather a repetition of cycles. A whirlpool of spins that I wonder how one ever gets out of. There are better days and worse days. There are moments of hope and moments of doubt. But there is never an hour on any day that I don't think of you, my precious child. Your smile is pasted on my soul.

I dwell on nothing but our finest memories together. I try to let the brilliance of your spirit fill my heart. I am trying to live in a way that would make you happy. It helps to follow your lead. Generosity, thoughtfulness, sensitivity, empathy. You had so many wonderful attributes. They live on forever in the acts of everyone who loved you.

Like beams of sunlight, a person’s life spreads out wildly in all directions. And you my dear, brought the best of the universe to others. Through the warmth of your smile and the twinkle in your eyes, you embraced us all. God, I loved that about you. Everyone did. Everyone still does.

Mom and I went to church this morning. The sun was shining brightly and the air was warming to almost 60 degrees! January 31st? It’s usually a single digit ice bowl at this time of the year. I have no doubt you had something to do with the weather. Thank you.

And I love You

Papa

 January 15th : Ice Canyons

Great fun. The snow remains little and infrequent, but the winter cold is working it's magic on the water near my mid-western home. I spent the day at Starved Rock State Park kicking steps with my Micro-Spikes through and up the icy canyons. Slipping and sliding my way along steep slopes, I am tempted to start carry a short climbing rope along for adventures in this unique to Illinois place where the 3-dimesional world comes to life.

I am still awaiting the deep and heavy snowstorms to which I have grown accustomed to at this time of the year. Now that I am not teaching and have the flexibility to take off on a moment's notice, winter has decided to take the year off.

Keep warm my friends.

 January One, 2012 : 

May the opportunities for beauty fill your days...

May health and wellness bathe your innermost being...

May the spirit of adventure be a magnet...

And may peace ripple gently through your heart.

 Mid-December 2011 : Where's the Cold and Snow Snow?

I'm waiting? Here I sit in my Midwestern home and not so patiently wait for winter to drop some snow on the landscapes of my heart. Even some frozen temperatures lacing patterns of ice would be welcome. The gap of dark, dreary, lifeless death between autumn color and winter wonder seems unusually long this year. I know I'll regret it in 3 months but c'mon winter...bring it on!

Until then, I chase the only color I can sometimes find; in the sky

 December 1st 2011 : Sandhill Crane Migration

The annual migration of more than 10,000 sandhill cranes through a little known ( except for avid birders) wildlife refuge in the middle of agricultural Indiana has been an annual migration for me too. I continue to be amazed by the ritual of these grand birds to visit this same spot in staggering numbers.

The drill has become for me to stand patiently near dusk, at the border of the refuge, and wait. As the sun falls to the horizon, the chorus begins as the cranes come stringing in by the dozens. Numbers soon become hundreds, then thousands. Their glutteral song rattles my soul. The flight machines wobble, drop their landing gear, and gracefully descend to a gentle touchdown.

Photographing them is like picking off the hubcaps of moving cars. It is rare for me to capture a shot that completely defines the experience. Which is usually the case and main challenge of good photography.

Before long, the sky darkens, am I am usually left standing alone. I prefer to listen to the crane music for a while longer.

PS: A few days later, I couldn't find my tripod. I turned my truck inside out. Oh no! I reasoned I must have left it behind at my last location( I do that more often as I grow older). I called the Sandhill Refuge Manager. Yup... it's right here. Thank you to the guardian angel who found and anonymously returned it. You will go straighter to heaven because of your thoughtfulness. You saved me many hundreds of dollars and brightened my outlook on humanity. Bless you.

 November 10th, 2011 : Zion

Over the year’s, some places become more special to me and I yearn to visit them again and again. Zion has become one of those places. So, off I went the other day to explore it’s force field upon me. Laying on my belly, I dangled my head over a steep canyon wall. I stared down a thousand steep feet. The Virgin River meandered gracefully around rock towers as it winds sinuously around the yellowing cottonwoods of November. Then I rolled over and to notice the battleground of trees trying to eek out a living and survive on the white sandstone towers a thousand feet above me. Water, rocks, and trees. It all seems so simple out here in Zion. The scientific complexity of it all brings me no interest. Water, rocks, and trees. Arranged in just the right way, bring my eyes endless delight.

I spend every moment chasing the light down canyons and up the sides of cliffs. The water is chilling as it soaks my boots. It surrounds me as it reaches my chest in the Narrows. I should be cold but the year’s have made me a wise dresser. The rocks gobble my feet as I slip and slither my way through rapids and slots in the canyon walls. Frustrating and joyous at the same time. But it’s the trees that have drawn me here today. They are doing their annual metamorphosis from green to yellow. Some prefer gold, while a few are bold enough to go red. I am certainly not alone in the autumn color pursuit. We are all photographers at this time of year in Zion. There are enough trees for all of us and I find comfort knowing that so many prefer being out within them rather than at home couch surfing.

It takes just two days of constant movement to exhaust my body and burn some memorable images into my camera. I am full now. It would be glutonous to ask for more. Time to move on. But what is it that makes Zion so unique to me? Other places have water, rocks, and trees too. Pulling an explanation from under my hat is impossible, like trying to define love. Sitting atop the lofty perch of Angels Landing I am at peace. And that fills my spirit.

 October 20-Something : Let us sleep outside tonight...

Three of my favorite areas in Illinois are the Garden of the Gods Wilderness, Bell Smith Springs Recreation Area, and Jackson Hollow Natural Area. Last week, during the emerging fall color, I visited all three to say hello to their beauty.

The Garden has some of the most exquisite rock formation anywhere. “I can’t belive this is Illinois” is a most often heard comment from visitors. Although most visitors never go further than the parking area, a network of trails wind through the wilderness area for further exploration. So beautiful to feel Illinois in 3 dimensions.

Bell Smith is a steepsided canyon area that always supplies me with ample photo opportunities. The quiet creek that runs through it must be a humid, bug and snake invested place during summer. But in October, it’s face is gentle and easy. A white river otter ( yes, white) joined us during an evening photo session.

Jackson Hollow and it’s Falls area is a charm. Hard to find but not as desolate as it used to be 25 years ago. It’s high walls and challenging rock formations have made it a mecca for midwest rock pilgrims. But I can’t complain about the lack of solitude, for it was many years ago the rock master, Sean O’Toole, took me there to teach me how to rock climb. Thanks Sean. Gosh I miss those days. In the years since, the crowds have followed. Such is the price of wild beauty.

Many thanks to Pam, for enduring the frosty nights and Kyle from Mitchellsville for helping me carry Abbey the old Happydog on our hikes.

 12th October 2011 : Merithon 2011

Last Sunday was the Chicago Marathon. While I tend to shy away from crowds and races, I couldn’t say no to the opportunity to to run with Team Merithon. A group of my daughter”s closest friends bonded together to run the marathon in her memory and deliver all the funds they raised to Mercy Home for Boys and Girls in Chicago.

Although a little warm ( 80’s) for 26.2 miles of pavement pounding, the day was filled with emotion, energy, and remarkable achievements. Quite a lot of blood, sweat, and tears. Quite a lot of fun. And at the end of the day, the Merithon Team walked away (more accurately limped away) with smiles of accomplishment but most importantly, Mercy home received $34,000 dollars in the name of my daughter, Meredith Williams.

Pam and I were overwhelmed by the entire project. Our friends and family are the saving grace in our lives. They are the gold standard of generosity and thoughtfulness. They define love by example. They would do anything for Meri.

In the end, there are no words... just actions. And the actions of those special people who have woven their way into our lives have profoundly affected me in ways immeasurable. I have tried to live in such a way that Meredith would be proud. To dedicate each day so she might smile and say “nice going papa”. I have no doubt that today, the world is a better place because of everyone who supported the Merithon. Meri is smiling

“Nice going Everyone”

 30th September 2011 : Silly

How silly... to drive 9 hours through the night, to northern Minnesota for 2 days of hiking in the rain, taking pictures... then quickly drive home.

May I always be so silly.

 5:00 am Badasses : 

I can't sleep. My hip is in throbbing pain. I ran 20 miles yesterday morning and then moved boxes and furniture up and down stairs all afternoon. I am feeling quite sorry for myself. Poor me.

Then I think of Joanna Hogland putting shots into both knees and taking ice baths to get to her job teaching inner city kids....then I think of Bridget O'Sullivan taking her diabetes medicine to continue her studies to complete nursing school... then I think of Amy Liss, laughing in the face of cerebral palsy to champion Easter Seals... and my very own Meredith Williams, courageously losing her battle to a plethera of issues beyond anyone's understanding.

You are ALL my heroes. Real Badasses. And I am such a whimp.

 September the 18th 20011 : Briefly:

* Pam and I are moving. Not far. For many reasons, it’s time to build a new nest.

* The school year began. I did not go. I went to Rocky Mountain NP to work on my High Altitude Paradise project.

* On a trail run, I accidentally found myself at close range (20 paces) smack in between a mother bear and her 2 cubs. Mom stood tall and huge. She was beautiful! I spoke to her quietly, preparing to be mauled. After a forever minute, she granted me space as I backed away. Bless her.

* Dee and Craig Bigler. You are my guardian angels. Your Cliffside Cabins are only exceeded by your kindness.

* Owen, Paloma, and Theo Mellish. I love you kids. Your parents are blessed to have you… and I them.

* Ranger Jack. Pinnacle Pool in the Never Summers was stunning, but I did not complete the project. See you next year for another shot. Maybe I should come out for one of your winter snowshoe treks?

* Merithon girls and Mercy Home Chicago... you have stolen my heart. I am forever impressed by the goodness of all your actions.

* It’s September. Hmmm. I think I feel the pull of the Northwoods.

* For all her friends…Abbey the HappyDog is still hanging in there. Arthritis, tremors, deafness, and bladder tumors, but at over 100 years human scale, her tail still wags each day as she greets the world.

* Meri Williams… the memory of your spirit is the ocean that my heart floats in each and every day.

 20th August : Dear Meri:

The Merithon Fundraiser the other night was a huge success. The lives of boys and girls of Mercy Home are better because of your inspiration to your loved ones. I was overwhelmed by the turnout. Unmistakably, out of my comfort zone. With so many people, I struggle through a jumble of feelings and am unable to speak clearly to all our friends and loved ones. I don't know how to sufficiently tell them all how much they mean to me... how grateful that I am for their thoughts and prayers. I wouldn't be here without them.

And they are here because of you. The magic of your spirit is alive in all of us. You are in my thoughts each hour of the day and with my soul every moment. I pray you feel the love.

Papa

 June from RMNP : Summer Snow

I just returned home from 2 weeks in Rocky Mountain National Park in an attempt to complete my lifelong photo project. Record amounts of snowfall in May covered the landscape in ways that I have not seen in 3o years. Most my destinations for this year were challenging beyond reason. We snowplowed through, slipping on icy slopes, stepping gently around crevasses, crossed raging rivers on downed trees, slept on rock slabs, and sank ourselves thigh deep in post holes. Some route finding issues, but overall, nice weather and good clean fun.

Adam Mooseman, Lovely Laurie, Canyon Dan, Princess Pam... you were all wonderful company and blessed with tremendous spirit. You made all the days memorable. I am still trying to digest the burnt hot dogs.

However, I still have a few final images to pursue before completion of this vision quest. While discouraged at first, my wife reminded we that we can return later this summer when the snows recede and the kids go back to school. That's right...I forgot... we retired a few weeks ago. Now how cool is THAT?

Bless you all.

PS: Ranger Jack at the Beaver Meadows entrance: I'm not sure you can ever rank the favorites but the hike along the Continental Divide/Ida Ridge up and over Chief Cheley, Cracktop, and down into Hayden Gorge is as scenic as it gets. But not to be taken lightly. To avoid the afternoon storms, I started at midnight. Don't try this one alone.

 June the 10th 2011 : Goodbye

After 34 years and over 5000 students I have retired from teaching. A bittersweet move. Thank you to my students. You have been THE prominent force behind my development as the science guy I have become. I will always be grateful for your passion for learning, enthusiasm for life, and your thoughtful friendship. However, the studies of cell physiology, chemical reactions, and geologic phenomena are past. It's time.

Pam has also retired with Teacher of the Year honors and 34 years of stellar service to children of Downers Grove. She is the starlight in the eyes of her students that will never be replicated. I know she too is grateful for the community of Downers Grove and support it gave to both of us.

Together, we continue to live one day at a time and look forward smelling the flowers TODAY. We presently are preparing for a trip to Colorado and our beloved Rocky Mountain National Park. We hope to rest, visit friends, and complete the High Altitude Paradise project which has graced my life for, I think, 33 years.

PS: My sinus surgery went well. Thanks Dr. Dillon! I'm only 2 weeks out but I hope that it solves some of my breathing problems.

Take Care All

 29th May 2011 : Springtime Blues

The poor weather of winter has carried over into spring here in Illinois and my health has not really improved. I have decided to take action. Next week, I will undergo sinus surgery to correct my breathing/coughing problems. Please Dr. Dillon, make me better. I've got mountains to climb.

My photography has been in a slump. Primarily, because I'm not feeling well enough to travel much. I've been poking around the state trying to complete my Illinois Project this year. Over 30 plus years I have traveled most every road in the state to explore every nook of wildness I could find. It's just about time to call it a wrap.

May the gentle grace of each day bless you all.

 April at Last! : From the Desert Southwest

After being ill all winter it seemed fitting to head from warmer climes asap. Pam and I are ever-growing to enjoy the Four Corner region. In between photo sessions we found time to ski, mountain bike, and run the trails in New Mexico. In the Sonoran Desert of Arizona we found the record heat invigorating.

The desert offers photographic challenges to me unlike other areas of the country where my visions seem to flow more easily. I think most of it comes from my love for water....which there is not a lot of...or possibly the tiny window of sweet light at each end of a day in which to photograph. The starkness of rock? Whatever it may be, I find all of it enchanting and hope to spend even more time Southwest in the coming years.

As the Beatles taught me... "I follow the Sun".

 March 21, 2011 : Vernal Equinox

It's the first full day of spring... but the sun's not out, my fingers are numb, and I'm still coughing. This has truly been the longest and hardest winter I can recall. How do those natives in Alaska do it? I'm guessing the torrid beauty gets them through winter.

However, I just can't wait any longer. Pam and I will travel to the Southwest US for 10 days. I need to see a cactus.

 January 31st 2011 : Meri

I see you shine in the rays of sunlight that descend through the clouds ... I see you dance in the sparkling water that runs beneath my feet... I see you smile in the brilliant rainbows that flash across the sky... and I see you dream in the stars that crowd the darkness out of night.

But I feel you in my heart.

Everyday.

 January the 1st of 2011 : Three of Four Corners

Pam and I just returned home from a trip to the southwest. Record cold and snow conditions made each day a challenge, however it was a unique opportunity to see the usually arid Colorado plateau cloaked in winter white. Highlights included the gorgeous snow-dusted Vermillion Cliffs of Utah, the cold corridor slot canyon of the Antelope, the frigid waters and stark shoreline of a desolate Lake Powell, and the ice covered sandstone rocks of the Paria Wilderness. And the stunning monument "Shiprock" in New Mexico finally yielded some of it's spirit to my camera.

The lowlight was our unsuccessful trip to visit "the Wave", the famous rock designs near the Utah/Arizona border. Accompanied by Master-mathematician Rob Johan, we struggled through snow and ice and somehow missed a turn and indecisively wandered about for hours in arctic conditions. By the time we located our target, fading light and an approaching storm had closed the window of opportunity upon us. We shall return.

Finally, a huge thank you to Master-skier Matt Sanborn, for taking Pam and I to the slopes of Santa Fe and keeping our toes pointed in the right direction.

May 2011 bring you good health, good spirit, and peace.

 26th December 2010 : Pam and Atalaya

On the way to Arizona, Pam and I stopped for a visit in Santa Fe. Arriving at 1:00 am and setting off for top of Atalaya Peak at 1:00 pm seemed, well, foolish. I would never recommend anyone go from sea level to 7'000 then climb to 9'000 feet in 12 hours. It felt so good to be in warmer conditions, I guess I was just, well, foolish.

I was fortunate to not get ill from such a quick change in altitude. As usual, Pam moved along gracefully with no effects whatsoever. She is a great outdoor companion. I am always most fortunate to share the trails with her gentle style and open spirit.

 12th December 2010 : Winter Winds

I awake this morning to bone chilling winds with temps numbing my fingers. Today however, after shoveling the snow, I point the truck south and head 6 hours toward the sun.

The warmth on my face is most welcome as the miles go by the windshield. I watch the snow disappear as the morning goes into afternoon. It really IS getting warmer. Upon reaching my destination, the bluffs above the Mississippi River, I am far removed from home and prepare my pack for a hike to the rocky top. There are few places in Illinois were you can go vertical but this place is one of them.

Within minutes I'm down to a t-shirt. I can't believe my fortune. I thought it might be months until I feel the warmth of sunlight on my skin. God it's warm! For the next couple of hours, photography is rewarding both above and along the Great River.

I drive home through the night, snacking pretzels and sipping sweet tea. A good day indeed.

Back home, I awaken to ice, blowing snow, and arctic temps. Did yesterday really happen?

 13th November 2010 : Transitions

There's clearly a change. I watch through the window as the last leaves tumble from their natal branches, where they have clung for their life forces the last 8 months. Most the trees are now bare. For some strange reason I have always preferred them like this. Their bare, dendritic patterns have personality. It's nice to see them on display again. Old friends.

Most notably, the unseasonably warm weather seems to be changing. My fingers can tell. It's cold. The sun is absent and the rain adds a real chill to my body. It feels good to wear warm clothing again.

Yes... it's November in the Midwest.

 October 31st : Happy Birthday Meredith

I am without words... I would sell my soul hug you again.

A usually spectacular month is not so this year. October comes to a somber end as I stroll down a dry shoreline of the Sangamon River in central Illinois. As I kick aside colorless leaves and try to resist the self-pity of this years misfortunes, I am overwhelmed.

I wish I could command the vocabulary to describe the world that I feel and the tangled web that my mind tries to unwind. I am trying to use to wordless world photography to help me find this place. The place of perfect peace.

I must keep searching... there is much work to do.

 24th October 2010 : Amazing what you can do in a day.

An 8-hour drive through the night, followed by a 3- hour sleep in the back of the truck and I awoke to the most dismal tree colors I have ever seen in Southern Illinois. My favorite spot in Illinois. The Shawnee National Forest. The poor man's Smokies. All covered with the dead brown of a drought year.

Oh well... I have one day to make the best of it. I found a quiet pond to greet the day and the huge lotus leaves floating on top were more than satisfying. A quick trip down a dusty road and a climb into one of the most beautiful canyons in Illinois focused my attention on rocks. Walls, boulders, stones. Magnificent rocks. Abbey, the Happydog and I spent hours playing in them

After a 2-hour drive to a third location and I found the dead leaves beginning to grow on me. It's amazing how many shades of brown there are. I seem to have noticed that some, even have subtle color to them. Wishful thinking? I think not.

At a final location, I snuggled deep in a back bay as the last light of day kissed the treetops. And I drove through the night to return home.

All said, I came back with 6-10 images that I'm sure I'll keep for my Illinois Project. In my world, that's a very productive day. Amazing what you can do without sleep, food, and all the bothers of the outside world.

 October 17th 2010 : Door County in Wisconsin

At the northernmost tip of Door county, a wilderness beach called Newport, juts out into to Lake Michigan. I awoke to greet the sunrise and spent the day walking within the embrace of it's protected forest. Searching for places of solitude has become most important to me these days.

I think of all the iconic spots where I, and millions of others, have stood to take fine photos. All beautiful indeed. However, I have grown to treasure those places where I feel like the discoverer and my visions are compelled to be unique.

God I love October.

 October 12th, 2010 : Boundary Waters

The October charm of the Boundary Waters wilderness once again has cast it's spell upon me. With it's golden painted birch trees, scarlet maple portage trails, and complete absence of flying insects, I continue to wonder why the lakes rest in almost complete desolation from human paddles at this time of year.

I was gifted with a few beautiful days for travel by canoe and likewise filled my pack with camera toys to play amongst this water wonderland. My partners Kyle Mitchell and Abbey the Happydog shared the Kawishiwi region with loons, eagles, otters, and a few migrating ducks. In silence, we all moved through the passing water as if we knew we were blessed to be in such a special place and time.

Thanks Kyle. We came for the double rainbow. We left with tired shoulders and some peace of mind.

 September 2010 : Friends

I have returned to the schoolhouse for my 34th and final year of teaching science. I deeply love being around my students. They are my emotional medicine. They lift my spirits and brighten my days. My commitment to them is the reason I am able to rise each day. However, I have grown tired of all the other components of education. It's become clear....it's time.

At the end of each day, I am emotionally drained. I have found peace on long bike rides and runs through the forest. Evenings are usually spent holed up in the basement, reading, writing, and dreaming of ways to reinvent myself. Searching for thoughts to make the pain go away.

I have no energy to photograph. The artist within is lost. I am hoping the colors of October will bring new vision to my soul.

 August 14th 2010 : Rocky Mountain National Park

I return from RMNP safe and sound. Actually, with less bruises and scratches than usual. Considering the remote hikes, scrambles, and bushwacks, I am fortunate to be in one piece. Only the hole in my heart and the endless nightmare of my life remains.

I am grateful for the brief moments of healing that Rocky provided. The Park is a huge and important part in the lives of my family and the many friends we have made there make the place always seem like home.

I went this year with the possibility of completing my lifelong project. That did not happen. I went in hopes of finding new places to inspire my wounded creative sensibilities. That did happen. I was able to make many new images and look forward to posting them in the High Altitude Paradise portfolio soon.

Thanks to Marmotman Donny for sliding up and down hundreds of feet of steep, wet scree and talus slopes as well as keeping a good sense of humor while being lost in a whiteout at 12,000 feet. Thanks to Canyon Dan for pushing us onward to the most desolate places in the Park. Over trees, through downpours, and sliding down snowy chutes, you make it all memorable.

Thanks to Dee and Craig Bigler for always finding a spot to rest my head when not sleeping in the backcountry, as well as a cheerful greeting each and every day. To Dale and all the RMNP Park Rangers for their friendship and support. And to Don at Brownfield's Trading Post for making me feel special.

But my deepest gratitude, as always, to my wife. Thank you for sharing time with me this year. While neither of us has a road map to get through our grief, I find comfort in knowing we have each other. My birthday celebration; the evening hike up to a lake for just us, the turkey and cheeseburger sandwiches packed in, the clearing storm, the last light on the peaks, capped by a hike back in the dark... perfect. And of course, the chocolate fudge brownie.

And always eat the brownie first. We did.

 July 21st, 2010 : Cameras on the Shelf

For the past few weeks they sit dormant on my desk. I hope the break will be good for my eye, my spirit, my heart. Early summer is my least favorite time to photo in Illinois, so...

Pam and I have been spending time gardening, fixing up the house, spending time with friends, and trying to find peace of mind. The world seems so different now. I move slowly from day to day, in thoughtful search for meaning and value. So many questions.

Soon, we leave for RMNP and the mountains of Colorado. The cameras will come too.

 20th June 2010 : The Wizard and the Angel

... and speaking of Crater Lake. For many years I've wanted to photograph at this lovely place. Heck, I would be happy just to see it. So I invested a day of driving to include in my west coast trip. When I arrived at the Park Border the ranger cast a dark shadow on my plans. Informed me that the road was closed with avalanches and 8 feet of snow. The campground was closed and the lake itself hadn't been seen in days due to the snow and cloud cover.

I took my chances. After parking at the end of the road, I booted up, threw on some winter clothing, and began walking. Climbing up to the rim of the crater and wisely avoiding snow cornices was invigorating. But the lake, and famed Wizard Island remained buried deep in the mist as the snow continue to pour out of the sky.

Afternoon turned to evening as I shivered to keep warm. Please God, photography is unimportant. Just let me see it. A glimpse before I head back down the mountain? One last idea! I began to pray to my daughter, the princess of sunshine. But the sky got darker, so about 8pm I turned my chin down and began to hike back to the car.

Then, almost instantly, the sky brightened. I hurried to an overlook and pow! Wizard Island! The clouds not only opened up but they were gently painted with the soft colors of twilight as Crater Lake came in to view. Rushing wildly to expose some film, I genuinely was more excited just to see this icon of our National Parks.

After a few minutes the clouds again enveloped the scene as the Wizard disappeared into the night. I strolled back to the car knowing I just been privy to a small miracle. An answered prayer.

My heart is broken with the loss of Meri, but for a brief moment in time it was comforting to know that I had a sunshine angel in heaven looking over me.

Today is Father's Day Meri. I will never stop looking for your sunshine. I will never stop loving you, and most importantly, I will always be your Dadzer

 15th June 2010 : It's Been a While

To the many friends who have not seen a Journal entry in months, I am sorry. My wife and I continue to sink and swim our way through the months following the loss of our daughter, Meri. It is impossible to separate my photography from my personal life. My love for my family and the images I see through the lens both come from the same heart. A heart that remains badly broken. My mind is in a strange place. Flux? Changing for the better I hope. The world certainly looks different now. Very painful. And most difficult to talk or write about most days. Accept a brief update.

Pam and I both finished the school year the best we could and now are free from our teaching responsibilities. This should provide some time to work on our insides. The support we received from our friends and colleagues was remarkable. I am finding new dimensions to the power of love.

I am also trying to be a willing participant in photography. Traveling is problematic as I find being away from home difficult. This spring, Pam and I went to Arizona and New Mexico for a week of rest. Time there produced a few new images. I added to my Illinois portfolio this spring with a couple of short trips to the south-central part of the state to photo the emerging treescapes.

Yesterday, I returned form home from a trip along the northern California/southern Oregon coastline. The week there was a breath of fresh air. I was blessed to experience the Lost Coast, fog-laced redwoods, magnificent sea stacks, dancing tidal zones, and at long last, a brief glimpse of Crater Lake.

As I have yet to enter the brave new world of the Facebook, I will do a better job of posting updates on this page.

God bless you all.

 March 7th 2010 : Tough Times

It has been 5 weeks since my daughter, Meri, passed away. The loss remains staggering. Along with the persistence of winter, my days pass by with glacial slowness. I try to work, move, and carry on. But I have lost my life force. Everything is bland, like eating cardboard.

I muddled through February without any interest in picking up my cameras. But today, I decided to try. The dog and I went to a quiet pebble beach along the DuPage River to photograph the sunset. We did more sitting than picture-taking. But it was good.

Over the years, my trips to wilderness places have given me so much. At this time I ask only one thing from them; help heal me.

 February the 3rd : When it rains...It pours

A broken rib, a broken lung, and a broken heart.

God help me.

 January 31st 2010 : Meredith Marie Williams

My Dearest Meredith.... From the moment I first cradled you in my arms, I captured a special kind of love that only a parent could know. You gave me a reason to become a better person... a father. With you, came unimaginable happiness and even some silly pride.

As I watched you encounter the challenges of growing up in today's world, I was stunned by your intellect, your courage, but most importantly, your golden heart. You were always at your best when helping others. A quality I so admire. You had the ability to warm the hearts and light the fires of those around you. Your smile, your humor, and your compassionate spirit were a gift from God. You were an artist who painted with the brushstrokes of your soul.

Meri,there hasn't been a moment in 25 years that I haven't loved you. For me, your life was always a lesson in love. A lesson, the passed on, will live forever.

My sweet princess, most of who I am, I owe to you. It therefore becomes my mission to continue to radiate your goodness to everyone, so they too can become a part of your being.

I dedicate my life to you. And we shall meet again.

Papa

 January 1/2010 : The Gift of a New Year

Cold. Very cold! I welcomed the new year this morning amid below zero winds on a lonely beach on Lake Michigan. I feel like it's been weeks since I've seen the sun, but this morning did not disappoint. My fingers were numb as I struggled to put together a memorable image of the first sunrise of 2010. I found myself singing as the the yellow orb rose above the horizon and sneaked through the clouds. Another day, another gift.

I can bemoan the frustration of photographing in the cold or celebrate my foolishness for continuing to enjoy it. I choose the fool.

Happy New Year. May good health and peace of mind find you throughout the year.

 26th November 2009 : Happy Thanksgiving

Counting blessings. A wonderful day to do it. I would like to think I do it often. Health, family, fiends, a way to contribute to the world, and some income to keep moving. Generally the same as most of us. The real challenge is finding ways and time to express the gratitude for what we have been blessed with in our lives.

I am grateful to have the good health that continues to allow me to play at levels that match my passions.

I am grateful to have a wife that is a loving role model to me. She is courageous in the face of confusion, compassionate in the face of anger, and continually shows a sweet sensitivity to the needs of others. The brightness of her character is inspiring.

I am grateful for the eternal support and wisdom of my mother. She understands well how the world works. After all the years, she is always there to help me up after I fall.

I am grateful for my daughter. She is the apple of my eye. The maker of my thoughts. And the hope for the future. I have no way of describing the love I have for her.

I am grateful for my friends. They impress the b'jeebers out of me with their energy, humor, spirit, and intelligence. I am most fortunate to be surrounded by remarkable people.

I am grateful for the students I work with. They are amazing little scientists. Their energy and enthusiasm for learning has kept me stuck on young.

I am grateful for my dog. She is my kindred spirit. Enough said.

 November One : I Think It's Over

Autumn, and the life of a leaf. For over 6 months, these tiny chloro-factories have been churning out sugar and oxygen for us. Then there's a sudden weakening in their stem, assitted by a puff of wind, and a gentle trip from their natal branch to a soft landing on he forest floor.

Prior to their fall, leaves let out a scream of color. So different from the monochromatic green they wear all year, it's difficult to believe that these pigments reside inside the leaf all year. But I'm told by micro-botanical-chemists that they do... so I believe them

As as photographer of things outdoors, it's my job to search out these colors and put them on my film. I've been busy the last few weeks, chasing the rainbows in the trees, from north to south through my mid-west home territory. Now, the color is fading and so am I.

There may be one more week, but I am growing tired of the road, sleeeping in the truck, and grabbing quick meals at drive-thrus (although Abbey the HappyDog has grown to love McD's cheeseburgers). Fondly, I remember kneeling in Lake Superior as waves crashed about me, shuffling through snow under scarlet maples, and wading through a canyon river. I remember the golden aura of a sunny canopy, the saturated colors of a rain soaked forest, and the reflected shoreline of a quiet pond.

I NEVER grow tired of those colors.

 October 12th/09 : Like Waking Up in a Popsicle

Sometimes it's easier to sleep in the back of my truck rather than spend the time setting up/taking down the tent. As was the case the other night on Whitefish Point, where the road ends at Lake Superior in the northwoods of Upper Michigan.

An overnight surprise. I awoke to a sandblasting of ice and a few inches of snow sealing me in the vehicle with a night's worth of condensed exhalation frosting over the inside. Brrrrr.

But, it was well worth it, as the first snowfall in Michigan's U.P. dusted the peaking trees, helping to punctuate their color even more so. Ahhhhh.

I just love it when the seasons collide. Caught me a little off guard though. Time to replace bug repellent with gloves. And better find some long pants.

 October the 4th/2009 : Tribute to Geneva

I regret how the years have past and our paths have diverged. It's been so many years since we've talked. Geneva Duncan, are you still out there?

When we met about 20 years ago at your precious little lakehouse in the Northwoods of Wisconsin your kindness was stunning. You and your husband, Berle, took me under your wing and taught me volumes. I had come to photograph loons. I had done my homework and reasearched everything I could find in academia about these intriguing birds.Soon, I came to find that I actually knew very lttle. You however, having lived across from their island nest site, season after season, knew everything.

Geneva, your stories were full of magic and wonder. You introduced me to your loons as if they were family. They were. Through you, I came to know their personalties, their motivations, and there communications. Because of you, I became accepted by your loons and was given he privledge of entering their inner circle... and yours.

For years, I headed north not just to photo loons, but to see you. Your stories were legendary and your hospitality endless. The days we shared sitting around talking "loon" were some of the finest times of my life. Oh how I envied your simple life. A world unencumbered by television. phones, and computers. You lived with style and grace

While back in those days, I fancied myself a bird photographer, you gave me something deeper... an appreciation for the spirit of the Northwoods. I learned to look deeper in to the subtlties of "lakeland" and developed a fine sense of oneness with the land. My photography continues to pursue these ideals.

Geneva. I wanted to let you know I'm still trying to live the lessons you shared with an "attitude of gratitude." Thank you. I miss you.

Jim

It's been many years since my travels have taken me by your Lake. I heard that Berle had passed away and surely the loons we grew to know and love have too. I've been avoiding visiting the Lake because the emptiness would certainly be painful . However, the other day I went. My eyes watered up with sadness as I looked out upon the island, quietly sitting as the centerpiece of the long familiar scene. I thought about all the endless hours in proximity of the the loons and how life was so much simpler then. Your dock is still there, as are the pickerel weeds on the shoreline. The fall colors were drop dead gorgeous, and many old landmarks are still intact. But something was missing..... YOU.

I pray you are well. I will never forget you.

 August 18th 2009 : Four Days in Canoe Country

I have a friend who won't take a the 10 hour drive for just a weekend. Says it's not worth it. Silly boy.

Yes, it was a long spin in the truck, but I just returned home from the BWCA and feel much better for it. Dropped on an island straddling the U.S./Canadian border I spent 3 wonderful days paddling some of the more remote lakes of that precious wilderness. Featuring unusually warm weather and mostly quiet winds, the canoe pierced it's way through many miles of drop dead beauty.

Yes, I would have preferred more time. But the voices of the loons and the otter who visited camp seemed glad that I had come.

Many thanks to you Kyle "Gator Pie" Mitchell. Your company was a treat and your assistance was welcome. You are becoming a fine outdoorsman. And it looked like the mosquitoes were glad you came too.

 August the 1st : Home and Healing

I've been home for a week now and it seems like all I'm doing is eating, sleeping, and taking long, slow bike rides. My body must have really taken a beating out West. The aches and pains seem to hanging on a little longer this year. I wonder if it's..... Nah!!!

Here in Illinois, the prairies are in bloom. I will focus my camera on their colorful displays for a couple of weeks. However, I did promise the Happy Dog a short canoe trip this summer.

 July 28th : Go West Young Man

And I did. Home from almost a month away from Camp Williams. Sore, tired, and at peace. I have been to the mountains and they have filled me with life. There are few places that breath fresh air into my soul more than the alpine regions of this country. And for me, Rocky Mountain National Park stands alone.

I just spent most of the last month in High Altitude Paradise. Year 31 for the counting. My portfolio for this project continues to grow. My vision quest to find every corner of the Park continues. I do have a plan and purpose to it all, but I continue to be very stealth about it until my goal reaches its completion.

This year RMNP was magnificent. Lingering snow hugged the slopes, wildflowers surged with abundance, waterfalls exploded, and icebergs cruised the lakes. I saw Bighorn rams doing battle and watched hundreds of elk graze the tundra.

We were blessed with all the challenges of mountain travel; gale force winds determined to flatten tents, lightning storms standing my hair on end, unreasonably heavy pack loads, searing sun, blistering feet, hell raising mosquitoes,and never enough food. Loved it all.

Gentle sunrises. Colorful sunsets. Heavenly star shows. Each day a gift. An inspiration.

Speaking of inspiration. I had the opportunity to visit Santa Fe and the mountains of northern New Mexico for the first time. Known as an artists community, I have never seen more skilled artisans in a small area. I guess you could call it talent density. I was swept away by the scope of different media and methods of expression for the spirit of the land. It was a motivating force and blew new winds into my photographic sails.

Thank you God. I'm sure you had something to do with all this. And thanks to Moose, Canyon, and Bro-Don. As always, your company is the sweetest part of any mountain adventure. Your spirit is inspiring and your never-ending energy is an inspiration.

 June 10th : School's Out! Teachers let the monkeys out!

My teaching responsibilities are complete. I am now free to be a full time photo-chaser. I will work diligently around Illinois for a couple of weeks and then plan on heading to Rocky Mountain National Park to pursue more images for the High Altitude Paradise project. I think it's my 31st summer in Rocky. A record spring snowfall in the Park has urged me to go out a bit sooner than usual. Perhaps a little snow and ice might be a nice touch in this years work.

God bless. Take care everyone.

 May 27th : The End of Spring

The gentleness of spring is gone. As I photographed this evening, I found myself lying in a wet marsh, with humid air, pestering mosquitoes, and ants crawling over my camera bag. The leaves have lost their soft, young chorophyll color while most the tree blossoms and woodland flowers have disappeared.

Spring, like it's 180 degree sister Autumn, is a fleeting season. At times, I think the beauty of these two is largely because of their apparently short-lived stays. If the leaves were golden all year and turned green for 2 short weeks in October would we still rush outdoors in awe?

But now my thoughts and eyes turn to summer. The forests of the Northwoods and mountains of the West require my attention.

God bless this country.

 April 5th 2009 : Wildflowers

Like many in the Midwest, I grow anxious waiting for springtime to emerge. So it seems reasonable to drive south until... I found it! The tip of southern Illinois. The Shawnee National Forest... the poor man's Smokies, hardly needs to apologize to anyone for it's often overlooked beauty. The Little Grand Canyon, Devils Kitchen, Bald Knob, Giant City... Just the names themselves demand attention.

In a few short days, I was able to stand in gushing waterfalls, wade through pristine creeks, and grapple with steep canyon walls. The charm of peaceful lakes provided me with much needed rest and the chirping songs of joyous birds filled my spirit.

But it was the profusion of color that my heart was searching for so desperately. The forest floor was dotted with brilliant displays of the wildflowers that I have grown to adore. Never being much of a flower photographer, I still found myself many times laying belly-down in the mud to squeeze a few images. It's amazing how many flowers I've seen for years yet still have never learned their names. I doubt they mind.

I am, however, a photographer of trees. And boy do I love Redbuds. I April, the Shawnee is painted with the purple brush strokes from the redbud God. I take far too many photos of these trees to make any practical sense. But since when is art reasonable?

I was sad to watch spring gradually fade away as I traveled back north. Even more shattering, is the new snow falling on my rooftop as I write. But wait... it's wet tree-clinging snow! Hang on springtime. Tomorrow morning, one last winter shoot is calling.

Take Care All

PS: On the way home I visited my friends on their small central Illinois lake. Bruce, Master of Fish Logistics, taught me how to cast, again. I caught nothing, again. But we did see a lonely loon resting on the lake, as well as a bald eagle soaring above. Illinois? Again I am reminded how beautiful this modest state really is.

 March 29th : Snowblast

Hurray! After many weeks of hoping, I awaken to a beautiful display of tree-clinging snow. Thank you God!

The roads are awful, so I limit my morning adventure to the local forest preserves. My love for treescapes is insatiable and the sand-blasted snow has made today's trees a winter wonderland. It truly is like taking candy from a babe as I travel the roads and compose abstract images to my hearts delight. It's 2 hours before I finally decide to go out and play in it. Abbey, the HappyDog and I set off through the woods to find a tiny lake that I've never visited. Found it! After 30 years, it's exciting to know that there still remain places so close to home that I've never seen.

It's going to be 50 degrees tomorrow. I shovel my snow for what I'll bet is the final time and clean the giant snowballs out of Abbey's paws while mind drifts to thoughts of spring wildflowers.

 March 20th : Happy Equinox

From the shoreline of the DesPlaines River, I watch the soler orb rise above the trees and gently squeeze the shutter. Click. Winter is officially over. However, it's still below freezing and my fingers are without usable sensation. But just knowing that it's spring seems to make my world a little warmer.

 March the 1st : In like a Lion.

I awoke this morning, flipped the calendar, and went out into stiff 5 degree winds. This winter is starting to wear on me. The snowfalls have been few and far between and I continue to wait for one last beautiful blasting of "white stuff" before spring arrives. As for now, I pass the time photographing ice.

However, today I decide to drive across the state and spend the afternoon looking for a dusk time opportunity along the Mississippi River. It seems a fitting way to celebrate the start of a new month. I was rewarded with a beautiful sunset design through the stark trees on a quiet river bank.

As a bonus, a lone bald eagle rested quietly in the trees just above me. For 15 minutes he was tolerant of my presence as I worked the scene. When I packed up to go, he too, dropped off the branch and headed north. Very soon it will be time for him to find his way home for the promise of a new season. As will I.

 February the 5th : Happy New Year

I began the year with a week in southern Arizona. With lovely temperatures reaching the 70's during the day, it was magnificent to wander the desert without the oppressive heat. Truly a great time to be there. But I felt so out of place among cacti decorated with Christmas lights and Santa caps.

Back home in the Midwest,a long, cold January has left me quite numb. It seems like every morning I awaken to -0 winds. I've been reluctant to enter a journal update because my fingers have been too cold to type. But I continue to love the challenge of being outside throughout the winter in search of fresh new images. And I sincerely wish it would snow more.

The new year awaits with the promise of adventure. I've got some ideas taking shape in my little mind, but first.... more snow please.

 December 21 : Solstice

The first day of winter. Sure. But more exciting, for me, it's a celebration of the return of light. After today, each day shines more light on my world.Thank goodness. Of course as the sunlight increases, the days keep getting colder. Go figure.

However, getting colder than today will be tough. I was out this evening standing ON the middle of a frozen lake in a blizzard. At -40 degrees. There are few conditions that I find more difficult to make photos. I can usually block out all the discomforts encountered in working the cameras outdoors... but when I lose feelings in those fingers, it's over. Today was a bitter reminder that mind over matter does not apply to frostbite. After 30 years, I have yet to discover a productive way to keep my hands warm. It may be time to admit the obvious. I just am unable to do it!

Merry Christmas everyone.

 November 23rd : Season to Season

I stare longingly at today's sunset. I think autumn is over. I've chased the fall colors for the last 6-8 weeks and have been pleased to find some fresh images from new locations. But alas... the well has gone dry. The trees are now mostly skeletons and the leaves have faded to the grip of the forest floor. It is a somber time for some.

But not me! The first snow cover is due tomorrow and I couldn't be happier. The finest moments in the outdoors are on the edges and now is time for autumn to cut gently into winter. I stare longingly at my snowshoes.

 October 14th : Autumn Photo Adventure

One last, quick canoe trip "up north" before the winter ice grips the lakes.

Daily schedule: Dawn photography. Then paddle...portage...paddle... portage... lake after lake.... camp chores... dusk photography... eat... sleep.

Repeat daily until food runs out.

Ah! The simplicity of a Boundary Waters life.

 October 1st 2008 : Favorites

Like most photographers of outdoor images, I am often asked about my favorite place. I struggle for an answer. It seems impossible for me to name one location. Maybe because it's not a specific State... nor is it a Park or Preserve.

My work has always been informed with a passion for the wilderness areas of our country, however, my favorite places have no zip code. They can be easily found far and wide across this beautiful nation.

I love the way the solid earth rolls like waves in the ocean. I find great joy at looking deeply into the dendritic patterns of a treescape. Or watching a crescent moon slice the sky, or a full moon punch the horizon. I cherish the luxuriant light that first kisses jagged mountaintops and the mirror-like lakes that rest in their rocky basins. So too the floral displays that cover a field like stars in the night sky. I love everything about water. The way it topples like a veil over cliffs... rushes violently through boulder chocked streams... or laps gently upon a waiting shoreline. Whether as rain falling thunderously from above or mist rising gently from a steamy marsh, I am always drawn to water. I will happily wind my way through shrubs to chase songbirds, sit quietly in mud to visit with a heron, or wait patiently in the trees for the owl to return to a nest. But I will rest on a northern lake all day to share company with a loon. They make me smile. Loons are always worth the time. I find the forest floor intriguing... a cloud filled sky mesmerizing... and the array of colors in an autumn forest mind-boggling. I like rock patterns, wet flowers, ice fractures, friendly moose, ocean sea stacks, lonesome beaches, tallgrass prairies, rainbows, mudpots, soulful sunsets, and crisp new sunrise to begin each day...

Favorite place?

Impossible.

 September 22nd : Autumnnal Equinox Day

Some think summer ends on Labor Day. Others mark the starting of the school year as the end of the season. However, I prefer the actual scientific measure. Today, all points on earth share the same quantity of light... 12 hours of day, 12 hours of night. Weather is all relative to geographic location. But the light does not lie. Summer is over . Unless of course you live in the southern hemisphere. Then today is the first day of spring!

Most importantly for me, and many others, it's time to chase those fall colors. This season is a fan favorite for it's bold but fleeting personality. I will do my best to to start in the north and follow the color parade south until I run out of time, energy, and film.

Make the most of each day everyone. It's such a wonderful time to play outside.

 August 25th 2008 : Rocky Mountain National Park

I've recently returned home from RMNP. Year #28 of my "vision quest" to visit and photograph each and every corner of this magnificent paradise. As always, Rocky humbles me, challenges my limits, and knocks me on my rear end with it's beauty.

A few thank yous are in order. First, to Dan Mellish. "Canyon" is my kindred spirit and hero. He is without question the finest all-round athlete I have ever met. He has done trips with me in RMNP for about 10 years. He never misses a wake-up call in the middle of the night to scramble up a mountain or passes an opportunity to swim in a freezing lake. He has been by my side for much of my "High Altitude Paradise"project. I can't imagine where it would be without his involvement.

Don and Anna Noschese joined me this year for a couple trips into the backcountry. Anna adds charm and thoughfulness to all my trips and Don is quickly becoming a real cohort in these mountains. While hunkered down in a storm, Don popped out of a warm sleeping bag to join me on an evening photo-shoot for no reason other than "adventure". Admirable idiocy?

A new sherpa this year was 20-year old Kyle Mitchell. I am most grateful to Kyle for hauling up the bear canister, complete with large sausage pizza, so we could celebrate my birthday in "style". Thanks also Kyle, for smuggling up the Dave Matthews music. It added a nice touch at the end of those long days. Yes, that lightning, thunder, rain, hail, snow, and windstorm we faced down was one of the best ever. Welcome to the Mountains!

Thanks Deana and Craig Bigler. You have been my port in a storm for 25 years. But you are more than a place to rest my destitute body. You are my forever friends.

Thank you Heather Mellish, for your hospitality and opening up your home to me for a shower and a place to rest my head. Your grace and spirit are stunning. You are the "bomb"!

Thank you to my new little pard, Owen Parrotman, for taking me to Smashburger for some much needed nutrition and allowing me in his inner circle.

And most of all, thank you to my wife. Not only did Pam hoist a full pack and join me this year on a long 2-day hike but her love, support and never-ending patience are solely responsible for allowing me to continue my photographic dreams. My dear, you are the love of my life. I would be living in rotting refrigerator box without you.

God bless you all! Year #29 awaits.

 June 2008 : Summer for certain.

That my body is full of mosquito bites is enough evidence for me that summer has arrived. The official equinox rolled in this week while I was "up north" in the Boundary Waters but my"springtime" mindset has been gone for sometime. Although, the the Boundary Waters was chocked full of springtime memorabilia; wildflowers, gushing waterfalls, territorial loons, rain showers, etc.

But when that first mosquito bites me, it's summer. And my summer photography began in earnest with my rear end firmly planted in a solo canoe paddling the western region of the BWCA. Yes, the bugs were challenging, but that was a fair price the wonders of the Northwoods. The solitude was welcome and the photo opportunities were rewarding. With wake-ups at 4:30am and evening light lasting until 10:00 pm the only thing lacking at this time of year is sleep. In my next life I'm definitely going to sleep more.

For the next few weeks I plan to photo new locations/images for my Illinois Portfolio. With the price of gas, I need to limit my travels. My purchase of a new macro lens will allow me to literally focus close to home. Then on the back side of July I'll head to Colorado for my 28th year in my beloved Rocky Mountain National Park. I plan on spending 3 weeks, rather than 2, this year in the mountains. Getting a little greedier with my time as I get older I guess. For whatever reason, my vision quest to encounter and record every lake in RMNP continues in earnest. I know I'm nearing the end of this "epic" but I can't bear to think about this project ending. I'm sure I'll find a way to drag my heals.

Please enjoy the new images posted on this site. You'll find work from a spring adventure to Utah's Canyonlands in the Expressions of Wilderness Portfolio as well as a new Short Project titled "Light on the Ice" that I composed this winter. Coming soon will be my springtime flora from the "Heartland" and the recent Boundary Waters work. I have long ago noticed that I fall a full season behind in managing these website matters.

And yes, my young friend Kara is correct. I could do a better job of updating the Journal Page. In no way does this delinquency stem from laziness, but rather a life so filled with much more important matters. Like swatting mosquitoes.

 June 2007 : Greetings

Ouch! A nasty bike splash left me grounded for the last 8 weeks. All injuries have healed except my right hand, which now contains a plate and 8 screws. Writing and typing are still problematic but but squeezing the shutter continues. It could have been much worse. I was lucky.

It's been a bit difficult navigating and photoing the wilds with one hand lame... but doable. I regret having to cancel a couple of trips but I look forward to a rich summer of adventures.

Yes... I am back on the bike. Einstein said that "life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance, you must keep moving".

Sound advice everyone. Let's get out there and play!

 August 2006 : Hello Friends:

This past June, I spent time photoing on the Olympic Penninsula, Washington. The diversity of subject matter surrounds and astounds. Glaciated peaks,seastacked ocean coasts, and rain forests so thick that if I stand still for too long moss starts growing on my tripod. I am always productive here and find the Pac Northwest one of my favorite places to play. Sure does rain a lot though!

In July, I treked 3 weeks in my beloved Rocky Mountain National Park. For 25 years I had photographed summers there...then took 2 years away. It left such a void in my life that I returned this year with vim, vigor, and a fresh set of eyes. I rephotographed familiar destinations and scrambled to find new ones. I plan to carve out some time each summer to visit "Rocky" for the rest of my life.

Home now...Illinois... the beauty of Flatland. I plan to photograph in some of our local prairies this month.

I continue to strive to update and improve my web site with fresh images and a pleasing presentation of my work.

Take Care and Enjoy:

 June 2006 : Hello Friends:

The web pages of In Wild Light have been updated with the addition of over 100 new images. It's been exciting watching the site develop and sharing some of my favorite photos with you.

Recent adventures have found me paddling the soulful lakes of the Boundary Waters in Minnesota, wandering the Atlantic tidal zones and salt marshes of South Carolina, and scrambling about the jagged peaks in California's High Sierra. The autumn rush of color to Aspen,the solitude of winter in the Northwoods, springtime blossoms in Illinois' Shawnee National Forest, and glorius week in the rain forests of the Olympic Penninsula have also graced my year. The beauty of this country continues to astound me. We are all blessed to call this our home.

Closer to home, I've been amusing myself by chasing wilderness images in the Chicagoland Forest Preserves. These small refuges that string like a necklace around a huge metro area are a powerful lesson of how foresight and preservation can enrich the lives of millions.

And on a sad note, I offer my heartfelt condolences to the family of young NPS ranger Jeff Christensen, who lost his life this past summer in a tragic fall while on patrol in my beloved Rocky Mountain National Park. The dedication and courage of all rangers is deeply appreciated. You are the backbone of our wilderness systems. Thank you for making these treasured places safe and accessable for so many.

Everyone, take care.