The night is come swift
Leaving only the north
Cloud swathed and light twinged
Reminding us all of the persistence of
Trust
The basic building block of love
To hang out there
If not present powerfully
Then as wisps of remainder light
Enveloping even the deep darkest
Whole
Life lived so partially
Afraid to offend.
Bursting rather vivaciously
Through
The ragged
Cracks
To keep us ever northbound oriented
By
Grace
Dancing an easy waltz so elegant.
Begging
Hoping
Come dance.
… still…
Category: Sunset
The Falls This Time In Late Spring
The Falls, again so lonely.
Where is it falling,
Just a little lonely compared to the last time
With so many feet running every which direction
And just a little shinier in the early evening light
And a whole lot colder with the falls’ water freezing making it all slide a bit more,
and what …
What a view
to the light
and the person of hope.
With trees leaning into the future.
April Skiing
April Skiing
Out on the flats, the spring snow covers what was bare most of the winter and the skiing is smooth, not so cold and wonderfully sunny.
Then the sky clouds over with billows and pillows and I’m without my camera.
The view is too large to capture, but with stitching it comes together, but the lines are evidence the cell phone is not up to the job of careful stitching.
Just to be sure of a somewhat good photo, the sky as much as possible is captured without stitching.
The sky, my dear the sky, is alive with all that can be.
It is only a few who are missing out on the joy.
Small towns, big ideas, great hopes, reality is narrow.
April Fool’s Sunset
Nothing of a Fool’s Day took hold this day.
I simply returned to a sunset over familiar territory, wishing it would be well, all well, most marvelously well, again.
The sun disappeared early behind some clouds and I ran to catch the light before it was all gone. Just minutes after the first this was so different.
Out on the lake the melt of the last few days have recorded every vehicle’s path and movement, soon enough to all disappear into the liquid of the returning lake water.
The expanse of light reflecting ice tracks under the wedge of broken clouds held one in awe, that this light was available all around.
And then this is truly all around.
One can of course play, and playing create something not real, but at least a bit interesting.
Walking on Water, for Real!
Walking on Water
Year in and out after the lakes freeze solid enough we all can walk on water, or ice.
But the spring days when a melt is on and the ice is still VERY thick, though covered with water, the ability to walk on real water, with ice beneath it by a few inches is simply that much more delightful.
The light at sunset after a hard day working give opportunity to see the light from above and below, and behind the grasses standing tall even after a long winter.
My perfect lodging for the evening, to stay in the clear air, watch the lake at night, and sleep in the great quiet. Later when it warms the beach will be crowded, but for now … solitude.
Sunset Break
Friday 13th: When -11 is Warm
When minus 11 C is warm
The right to be at peace, not to have people lie about who you are or what you’ve done, to not be at war, to know through and through that God loves you, to have a small plot of land – say 20 square miles, or even 164 acres, or 23.5, or 9.7, or 5.3 … and be able to live in peace, and greet people with a smile, stay warm in the cold, and cool in the heat and fed in the famines, and to drink water clear each day, and to breath fresh air.
For me it is to find the snow crunch cold a delight, and the view on top a mountain that points you in all directions so high, and to turn the wing among the clouds or loop and roll under the popcorn spotted blue sky, or between the crags of the mountains, or to sit beside the rushing river … safe
From the natural power of all that which can kill, most of all the tongue that does not know how to speak from reality because fear has tossed wild emotions and swings into the face of grace and love turning it into a dance to avoid the landmines and explosions and having yet something else taken from one.
To be in peace, to give peace, to meet fears and lies with grace … this is the promise yet to come to be.
For small things, like biking the ice, breathing clear air, basking in the warm sun, contributing to making the world a better place for everyone and carrying a camera to catch the wonders of light playing the broad ivory of ice and snow, quaking beneath to remind one that also this is not truly solid, but for now (post -30) it is sufficiently safe and solid.
The wonder is that more would not venture to bask in the warmth.
What is -11 after -30, but warm.
Where is light, after the dark, but across the horizon to the nearest step.
What is
Peace
For
You?
For now home will have to be this and enough.
Until the light of grace guides us home.
It’s A Little Cold
It’s a Little Cold Out
As I write this the temperature has dropped to minus 27 Celsius and it’s going to continue dropping says the forecast until it’s minus 30.
I did survival training years ago NW of Hinton. We mimicked what it would be like to be downed in an airplane with passengers needing to survive for 36 hours. Tea, the first medicine after the physical injuries were tended to, and then build a shelter for the night. Minus 20 the first night with a partner. Minus 30 the second night, solo. Third night was an all-natural shared shelter for everyone except the instructors, who slept next to a wood stove in a full shelter.
After the last night, of smoke from the shared fire, and little sleep, the thermometer was pegged below minus 40 on my rotary thermometer the next morning a few hours after sunrise.
So yesterday at minus 21, with camera in hand, with a down parka zipped up, a wool hat, simple jeans, warm boots and light enough gloves to feel the camera easily … and a great tripod, I simply enjoyed the ventures out from the warm vehicle to capture these precious photos, a profound beauty and reminder of days before the current hell I’m caught in and working to save others more vulnerable.
It’s not that it was terrific then, it’s just purgatory was decidedly not like this, and despite any temperature, what I’m working to set right, who I’m having to work to keep safe, or at least mitigate permanent damage to, the vulnerable, this kind of hell just does not seem to know beauty or truth or faith or love or hope or … well in a word, this hell has no place for the beauty of grace, the grace that saves us all.
So here they are in the same silence that I encountered them, absolute silence, with only the squeak and press of snow stepped into and upon, and breath … o precious breath that only now I have again … o precious breath that now again I have so that I can speak … well sort of.
Enjoy the beauty: for this cold is not hell, it is simple beauty, without flies or bites, a beauty that permeates everything.
Enjoy the beauty: for this as God created it and us to be; still standing, even through the hell and the cold.
These are dedicated to my little sister, who made photography for me a shared joy.
She was always better than she knew.
Copyright Tim Lofstrom 2017
Beneath This Sky
Beneath this sky
Warm Sunset
One can stand
Or
Move
And take what is
And what is not that ought be
And what definitely ought not to be
And
Join them
Either with force and violence
Even if polite
Quiet
And manipulative
OR
By Grace
With frank words that may relieve the comfortable of their abusive power
And bring comfort to those abused by being relieved of all power
And
Set right what is wrong,
Bring light to what is hidden in darkness,
And bring hope to those daring to expect, and hope, against all the evidence of this world.
Here it is quiet
As snow and ice eat all waves
Of water
And sound
And one walks without miracle
On water,
Miraculous that one is still able to walk,
With or without the blessings of holy
Water
And
Being.
And the time to leave
Crawls up on the interloper
As the sun wanes, and is blown down the side of the side to its depths of hours long
Awaiting its rise
As
A
New
Last
Day
Arrives
And
Departs once again.
The Wait is Over, Christmas is Here; the wait goes on
Christmas 2016
The Light of the world
Born as a baby in a manager
Will shine in all the darkness
And make known all that is hidden.
The celebration is here, the tree is decorated and lit
All natural and golden bright.
The path I must take
Has been trod by way too many before
Striving to bring health and hope.