What's It All About, eh?

Cape Breton evokes deep memories and strong emotions for me as well as a deep appreciation for the beauty of my adopted island. My hopes are that you too might find the photos evocative - maybe a view you've not enjoyed before, or an 'Oh I've been there', or if from away that you may be encouraged to visit this fair isle so that you might come to love and breathe Cape Breton as I do. One word about place names that I use - some are completely local usage while others are from maps of Cape Breton that I've purchased over the years. I frequently post travel and other photos that are of interest to me - and hopefully you.

On the right hand side bar find my take on Single Malt whiskey - from how to best enjoy this noble drink to reviews (in a most non-professional manner) of ones that I have tried and liked - or not. Also musings, mine and others, on life in general.

Photographs are roughly 98%+ my own and copy-righted. For the occasional photo that is borrowed, credit is given where possible - recently I have started posting unusual net photographs that seem unique. Feel free to borrow any of my photos for non-commercial use, otherwise contact me. Starting late in 2013 I have tried to be consistent in identifying my photographs using ©smck on all out of camera photos I personally captured - (I often do minor computer changes such as 'crop' or 'shadow' etc but usually nothing major), and using
©norvellhimself on all photos that I have played around with in case it might not be obvious. Lately I have dropped the ©smck and have watermarked them with the blog name.

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NOTE: TO ENLARGE PHOTO, CLICK ON SAME - If using Firefox also click f11 - photos will fill the screen ...... ----------------------------------- ......TRANSLATION BUTTON AT TOP OF LEFT COLUMN!

Thoughts on Cold Country Night


The moon gibbous, rising sun-like bright, sky that deep purple of Zane Grey

silhouettes the fractal branching of the wood,

as does in west the long gone sun of this now deep-evening day.

I pause a moment in the dark under-story at the rudimentary compost pit

when ghost flickened snow shadow seems to dart away -

weasel, cat, ground bird harvester  - weaving the ripple on my skin.

Unbidden ancient ancestor atavisms my tutored id

as, unbidden, wild geese night flying guided by albedo give vent to

that cry, layered onto our brain from when we dark ages hid

gathered in caves and barkened huts with flame a god against

the even then abstraction of the what and why and dread.

Breathe air in deep and cold layered into my chest in soothing

balm against my aging old and memories blest – and gone

from this spark flaring in the void - brightening, becoming, too soon

fading – leaving light rays pulsing outward into that void on and on and on

in coded message to the unknown, unbearable, unresponding void.

 norvellhimself 14Dec'13
 

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