Pocatello Falls

This 20 metre cascade, into a deep cold pool, is unknown even to most residents of the nearby region. At the end of a narrow gorge, approached through little footholds on slippery stone, it is a wonderfully convoluted haven of big and little rock pools, finally opening out into this one big torrent. My family came here first when I was 8 years old and I have returned every year to this gorge in central Vermont unless I am unreasonably detained, and sometimes in the company of special friends. This waterf…

RoweFalls 1998

When helping out on behalf of David Spangler at Rowe Workshop, I took some time away to investigate the glistening stream that drained from the nearby lake edging Rowe, Massachusetts. The light was sticking to every bouncing drop.

Mohar High View

I was so frightened when i took this photo. On one hand I wanted to convey to others the great distance to the water, the power of the waves below. On the other hand I am unreasonably seized with vertigo, and there was no railing (well, there was - but from back where it was you could not even see the ocean edge). The wind was so strong I had to lean into it hard to keep from being pushed over... but then occasionally it would stop and I would pitch forward. Terrifying. ©2003 Michael Billingsley

Bruree lower falls

My "back yard" in Ireland. Very much improved and cleaned out by my landlords Dick and Jessie Griffin. Dick has also diverted and improved the mill race by installing his own turbines, to become one of the few private "off the grid' hydro installations in Ireland so far.

Stickney Brook - after Imbolc

Trampled snow is all that remains of the moonlight fire festival of Brigid.

Connecticut River shoreline - Samhain

Canoeing during crisp autumn weather, I was struck by how beautifully the arc of reflection met the quiet water I was riding. Handheld.

Morning Light - Ivy Lea inlet

(view from my favourite campsite by the St. Lawrence River)

Ivy Lea - St Lawrence River

This is a metaphorical glance at my Canadian homeland... next to the sparkling waters of the St. Lawrence River. Clear river racing by old granite islands covered with oak and pines. This is where I canoe, where I was born, where I return over and over.


After the rain.
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