crow perched on a fir
both rinse their black leaves ~
cold showers
crow perched on a fir
both rinse their black leaves ~
cold showers
frosty morn ~
’neath the orange leaves
a sign says <STOP>
cold morn ~
the ghosts o’ dead trees
on the highway
late autumn ~
in comes an evening guest
ol’ leaf
early snow ~
the young cat takes
its 1st step
dark late fall ~
on the ground thick snow
turns to rain
november ~
ran into an ol’ friend
216th st. sunset
downtown autumn ~
walking streets paved with
golden leaves
autumn rain ~
in seattle is born
a new lake
spelunking
the iron caves o’
construction