At 6pm:
     As I crossed the bridge in the dark I saw lights off in the bottoms below.
     A farmer is rolling the old corn stocks into the earth in the darkness of early evening.
A light in the blackness.
At midnight:
     Amber lights fade off into the gray fog of autumn on these concrete walls.
     I walk shrouded in fog along the bridge above the dam.
The damp brisk cold is felt on my face.
Dampness is at the end of my nose, a sure sign of coming winter.
Fog on the river.
At 6am:
     Most mornings when you drive into the sun it blinds you and is somewhat annoying but this morning was different.
Because of the heavy fog on the river the road home was layered in fog.
As I came around a corner I was looking strait at a oak tree that had lost it's leaves.
What was remarkable was the sun which was poking through the fog and through the tree.
The rays of the sun were deflected by the fog and as those rays hit the tree those
     rays were deflected again by the wet limbs of the great oak.
The oak looked like a wonderful painting of fog, tree and sun.
I wanted to snap the photo and I guess I did.
Fog creates some wonderful sights is this world of ours.

Gollum is learning the meaning of ....

badaba
September 10, 2001
September 11-16, 2001 bongoSeptember     23, 2001
 October 11, 2001 bongaOctober 16, 2001
October 18, 2001 bongaOctober 22, 2001
October 28, 2001 bongaOctober 31, 2001
November 02, 2001 bongaNovember 04, 2001
November 08, 2001 bongaNovember 10, 2001
November 12, 2001 bongaNovember 13, 2001
November 13, 2001 bongaNovember 17, 2001

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 .Words & Graphics by Tomas