old dog, new year

Two years ago I gave myself a challenge to take a photo every day of the year.
It didn't matter how random, good or bad, but I had to commit to taking (and posting) one every day.
So for 365 days I looked for shots, and in doing so, I became a bit more disciplined and a lot more observant.
When the year ended I didn't continue, but loved to look back periodically to see what memory I had created and captured on corresponding dates.
This year I've decided to do it again.


January 1st and the belated White Christmas fell. I took a walk around the neighborhood as it was a beautiful still evening. Holy Cross Cemetery was still open so I managed to get this shot with the bright moon hanging over the chapel

November Graveyard

taken in the summer street cemetery, halifax nova scotia

The scene stands stubborn: skinflint trees
Hoard last year's leaves, won't mourn, wear sackcloth, or turn
To elegiac dryads, and dour grass
Guards the hard-hearted emerald of its grassiness
However the grandiloquent mind may scorn
Such poverty. No dead men's cries

Flower forget-me-nots between the stones
Paving this grave ground. Here's honest rot
To unpick the heart, pare bone
Free of the fictive vein. When one stark skeleton
Bulks real, all saints' tongues fall quiet:
Flies watch no resurrections in the sun.

At the essential landscape stare, stare
Till your eyes foist a vision dazzling on the wind:
Whatever lost ghosts flare,
Damned, howling in their shrouds across the moor
Rave on the leash of the starving mind
Which peoples the bare room, the blank, untenanted air.

-sylvia plath