In A Fog







In my mind I am here, on the breakwater. The lonesome sound of seagulls overhead, thick fog and the early promise of a warm day. Shades of grey enveloping me like an old friend. A thermos of coffee beside me and ancient boulders beneath. Connected.

All images © Karen McRae

Breaking Open





Maybe it’s because I spent the majority of my childhood growing up beside a river, but the river runs through me the way it runs through the city. Like a lifeblood. It pulls me to it. I almost feel like apologizing but I can’t. So here we are again…

It is breaking open. There are places where the rapids keep the water open all winter. But I am drawn to the wide open spaces. The distances. The possibilities.
Especially when it is grey. Or snowing. Or raining.

I could show you that the snow has gone. That rapid changes have been taking place on land. But the river responds slowly and, at the moment, I am on river time.

All images © Karen McRae

Down by the River

Our city has a river running through it. Two in fact. Today was a beautiful sunny day so I took some time to walk around the river near my home.

I sometimes see people riding their bikes down to the river with fishing lines tucked under their arms. Things get left behind.

Wildlife.
All images © Karen McRae