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Like many fly fishermen in western Montana where the summer days are almost Arctic in length, I often do not start fishing until the cool of the evening. Then in the Arctic half-light of the canyon, all existence fades to a being with my soul and memories and the sounds of the Big Blackfoot River and a four-count rhythm and the hope that a fish will rise.
Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of those rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs.
I am haunted by waters.
I hope as a photographer to encourage others to slow down, open their eyes, and really notice the world around us. In a world that can often be stressful and hurried, it's all too easy to rush by and not really see what's right in front of us...the birds, the flowers, animals, changing seasons, the kid playing in the park, the old man and his dog, the reflection of light on water at dawn, all the treasures made by God's hand that are there for us to see and appreciate, if we only take a moment.
Thank you for visiting my website. I hope you enjoy the photos.