listen | look | create
with steve goll

the stump by the lake ~  center of a universe  of that I am sure 

ancient mariners ~ shipbuilding trades long ago  now calm winds and sea

japanese garden ~  travel between awareness  and tranquility

Japanese block print ~  cherry blossoms on a stone  beneath old cedar 

ode to a swallow ~  never a feeble bird 'twas  my brave, strong swallow  crossing land and sea  you migrate thousands of miles  e'er return to me   

behind this worn mask ~  tired eyes finding comfort in  earth's matter and form 

towers in the sand ~  a feature of my childhood sifted from memory  

dream me a garden ~ where mist rises each morning and won't fade away.

waves rush up then fade. I sit quietly, eyes closed. lost in the moment.

today's long winter. I forget its coldness with. morning's golden dawn.

a curious bird. my much-needed company. in the rain-soaked woods.

take her to the sea. where we find simple joy in. the mist of winter.

a mist by the sea. drifts in my mind as a dream. a fog horn wakens.

and I breathed deeply. each breath a poem for the. first day of winter.

beneath the surface. our past is carried away. by the undertow.

a village of old. now ripples on the water. bathing herons' legs.

early morning chill. cedars beckon me quietly. through the forest door.

perched among the trees. the sun flits from branch to branch. as it follows me.

aging fisherman.  run aground a muddy shoal.  aching to be freed.

a wall marks a path.  where memory is planted.  and where hope takes root.

the path to the creek.  where children play in summer.  where wild salmon spawn.

each morning, a pause.  a cocoon of calm silence.  nurtures your spirit. 

a scent in the air.  a wisp of a memory.  floating back to me. 

gold, copper and green.  the forest is a palette.  waiting for a brush. 

did I embrace nature.  or did nature embrace me.  divine mystery. 

brilliant sky colors.  announcing here I am, world.  a fleeting peacock. 

mist falls on cedars.  one by one, I count the drops.  falling out of sight. 

listen for silence.  only light footfalls, rustling.  a ferry horn sounds. 

finding the foot path.  with morning light through a gauze.  as I walk in fog. 

walk and walk onward.  distancing from your concerns.  your mind far afield. 

rhythm of footfalls.  morning's musical partner.  rouses my senses. 

thankful for nature. flora, fauna and seasons. a new gift each day.

from autumn to spring. the circle of life's seasons. lives in each of us.

blustery coldness. churning the sea and the shore. sculpting the morning.

the path meanders. find a way to pause, reflect. your surprise awaits.

between the distance. birdsong brings us much closer. to being present. 

dawn gives us the light. to see our natural world. anew each morning.

nature always hears. the promising bud of thought. yet to be spoken. 

pacific northwest. the cooling touch of light rain. the sweet scent of fir. 

a windy morning. in the distance, otters play. chasing and rolling.

dawn signals promise. a warm possibility. of spirit renewed. 

nature gives us space. to reflect on what we have. what we can offer. 

the sounds of seagulls. strolling the cove at low tide. pungent air aloft. 

dawn in the forest. a crisp new day brings birdsong. nature's joy awakens.

seek solace shoreside. when winds blow and waves roll in. nature's rhythms soothe. 

the sounds of nature. the joy of being present. the calm of deep woods. 

stormy winds today. blowing in both directions. seeking a respite. 

rain washes small birds. red berries their favorite. without distraction. 

if you calm your mind. falling dew drops can be heard. watering your soul. 

birds in big cedars. listen to my feet falling. autumn leaves crackle. 

the haunted forest. a silent zombie tree stump. not moving, undead. 

i love the silence. of deep forest at first light. birds add to the spell.

what, no dawn chorus? too late for full-on birdsong. good hike anyway. 

walking and knocking. pileated woodpecker. brightens my morning.

bracing windy rain. shivering yet proceeding. metaphor for life.

tromping through mudflats. fall's first chill is in the air. chipmunk harvests cones.

beach sand underfoot. harbor wake gently lapping. dog on high alert.

ducks, owls, coyotes. an observer is observed. a leaf hangs in air.

rooster at first light. autumn forest awakens. senses come alive.

a froggy morning. searching for the croaking source. Eagle Harbor sounds.

the hilltop raven. drying out after the storm. birds for company.

windstorm aftermath. treading on leaves through forest. mudflats at low tide.

rain soaking forest. splashing on a trail turned creek. a childhood moment.

birds on forest roof. soft carpet of fir needles. oysterman at shore.

broad expanse of grass. songbirds in neighboring woods. pond ducks greet the dawn.

Bainbridge Island inspires walking podcasts. While some might say recording the sounds of walking has been done before, the truth is that I need this for me. Right now. I've had enough doom scrolling. I need a daily tonic of nature to take my mind to a better place. A positive place.  Listen and subscribe via Apple Podcasts ,  Spotify , and Stitcher . -Steve