Cronk Cronk cried the heron. When the sun gets low, it finally breaks through the perma-fog / cloud layer. A golden wedge of light washes across the foothills and buildings (CH2MHill on the left). It fades so quickly you run for shelter for fear of emerging vampires.
Journal and moblog for Dave Foster.
About Me
- Dev
- I was raised by manatees. I learned a lot from hauling up my crab traps. Never go skinny dippin' with snappin' turtles.
Blog Archive
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2004
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November
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- Sunny Cold
- sweet crepes
- She's incredible
- Egyptian
- Parla
- robotic snow white
- Damascus
- 1864 Springfield
- Cowgirl
- Sunset
- Fish n Game
- jesse
- Graebers
- Republican operative
- Bhirat
- Northview posse
- Ratnayake's
- have no fear...
- Inversion
- hell's canyon
- surplus
- infiltration
- The Ethanol People
- School performance
- Aubergine
- snow has melted
- the sun finally
- her g*d
- she is the passenger
- Legs
- filmi with Sush
- Sketch photo booth
- Heidi's birthday
- smallest number of infinity
- indelible
- motherhood
- flow
- peers
- guests
- Eugenics
- Evidence of Connection
- Aleph Null
- Off to school
- guitar pickin sittin round the shack
- mad ro
- bamboo
- Monkey puzzle
- Dad
- Hoyt Arboretum
- Mt.St. Helens
- VFW for kerry
- Dad is 70 years young
- Aunt Bev and Uncle Art
- mt. Hood
- owyhees
- foothills
- where is gunther?
- granulation
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November
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