I can only hope that these colours come through on other monitors the same as they do on mine. We were taking the Albion Ferry one evening in January, and the sun was setting in the most glorious wash of peach and lemon I have seen yet here in British Columbia. I couldn’t stop staring at the sky. The old-fashioned ferry lamp seemed to add a hint of rusty nostalgia to the bright colours.

Jake, the youngest of my mother-in-law’s four dogs. He’s never, ever still and usually in your face. I shot this one at my mother-in-law’s place up in the Interior.

Or is it only unclear when I see myself through my own eyes?

Kisses on my pillow. Sweetness follows. My submission to Thursday Challenge for “Sweet”.

This was taken at Castle Fun Park out in Abbotsford, British Columbia. Doug took me for an evening of mini-golf (shut up) and was the sweetest husband ever when I realized that the entire place was teeming with spiders. Big ones. Fat ones. Ones that looked as though they were sorry the park was frequented mostly by teenagers, preferring the meat of a plump two-year-old. He walked all the way back to the car in the parking lot for my camera, and even held my shirt so I wouldn’t fall trying to get at the weirdest angles. He waved groups of giggling teens past us and didn’t roll his eyes once. He understands that the only way I can come to grips with my arachnophobia is to see the spiders in a different light. My therapist years ago taught me that phobias (often) come from two things: lack of knowledge, and a certain perspective. If you can change those two things, you can overcome the phobia. It takes work, though, and consistency. If I stop, the fear comes back. Hell, if I’m honest, there is always some fear, but ten years ago, I never would have been able to go for a game of mini-golf with my husband knowing there were so many spiders around. Now?

I kicked his butt. ~_^

She sits, drawing self close to self among stiff folds of a once-pink rose. Her body blends with the colour of death, becomes one with the rustling of petals past. She is comfortable with the ghost of summer. She is hungry. Pedipalps folded beneath her many eyes like praying hands over grace… she waits.

At this point, I will cheerfully admit to actively trying to squick you guys out. This isn’t good photography by any means, but oh my GOD, he is eating that thing! Sucking out its liquefied guts! Boy, if that isn’t apropos for this whole sucky month, I really don’t know what ever could be.

I can’t believe the week before Halloween is almost over! Well, no… I can believe it. I’ve been neck deep in bubble wrap and newsprint and the time, well it flies. Anyway, my threat was to have a different fugly spider photo, carefully gleaned from my hoard (do you hear cackling?), every day of this week. With everything that’s going on, I completely forgot about it. Never fear, my darlings, never fear… even if I have to do it all tonight and set it to publish later, I will make sure you get your fill of my little nasti beauties.

Taken at the site of the Hope Slide over Thanksgiving weekend. I am just terrible at landscape-type photography still. Can’t wait till I have more time later this winter to get more practice and hopefully learn how to get a decent wide shot.

You see it all the time. People eaten alive by the acid stew of anger within them. The ones who flip off the squeegee kids downtown. Roar at the neighbour kids to keep their little feet off the grass. They’re the ones huffing about a long line-up, tsk-tsking at the tired young mom with too many kids, full of suggestions about improving society - none of which, interestingly enough, seem to involve them getting their hands dirty or their hearts sore. They have turned their faces to the shadows, their backs on the sun. And it shows.