Tag Archives: photography


Carol A. Hand

The love of my youth is dying
On earth, this lifetime, we’ll not meet again
A long life is sometimes a blessing
but surviving dear friends brings such pain

Truly gentle men are so rare to find
The world doesn’t treat them well
They often ease disappointments silently
with distractions to escape an inner hell

À bientôt, my beloved friend
May you finally know peace deep and true
Please know you’ll always remain in my heart
Though, from afar, I must send my final earthly loving adieu

Snowflakes and Sunlight February 27, 2017
Snowflakes and Sunlight
February 27, 2017


for David

There are so many better ways to say “farewell” in French. It’s the language of the heart. I turn to it now to express the depth of my grief and sense of loss.

À bientôt means “see you soon

Adieu translates literally as “(I commend you) to god” 


Carol A. Hand

Arbor Vitae Icicles – February 26, 2017
Arbor Vitae Icicles –
February 26, 2017


This is just my latest form
though few will stop to wonder
what I am and where I’ve been
before my molecules disperse asunder

Yesterday a cloud, then snow
melting beneath the warming sun
forming with your breath and tears
My transforming journey never done

My essence part of clouds and oceans,
meandering woodland streams
shimmering in rainbows and sustaining life, timeless
outlasting ephemeral political regimes


Arbor Vitae Icicles - February 26, 2017
Arbor Vitae Icicles –
February 26, 2017


Ever Shifting Landscapes

Carol A. Hand

Evening - February 25, 2017
Evening – February 25, 2017


Each day brings new landscapes and opportunities for reflection

The grey days and snow of late February, for some, evoke a sense of gloom

While for others, the blanketed earth symbolizes sustenance and protection

for the trees and flowers of spring waiting patiently to bloom


Morning - February 26, 2017
Morning – February 26, 2017















February Impressions

Carol A. Hand

Even though surreal psychopathy rules, gentle moments of beauty still fill my heart with joy. It’s the poignant passing moments I prefer to celebrate and share today.


Green grass revealed by this week’s untimely thaw

February Thaw - 2017
February Thaw – 2017

now frozen, crunching beneath my slippered feet

the viola that was bravely blooming yesterday

 frosted, resting peacefully on the frozen ground


Blooming Viola – February 22, 2017 (my attempt to turn a blurry photo into edited art when there’s no chance of ever taking another picture after the moment passes…)
Blooming Viola – February 22, 2017
(My amateurish attempt to turn a blurry photo into edited art when there was no chance to ever capture this moment again…)



This post was inspired by my lovely, creative granddaughter who’s been spending the week with me. She’s been busy helping me build new memories rather than editing old ones.

Ava, Busy Creating - February 2017
Ava, Busy Creating – February 2017

Caring Enough to Face Fear

Carol A. Hand


To say I hate driving is not quite true

But it’s no longer something I like to do

Yet here I am, every other Saturday morning

turning onto the entrance ramp in second gear

right foot pressing the accelerator as I climb the incline

gaining speed, shifting to third then fourth

merging with traffic on the interstate south

shifting to fifth as I gain matching speed

“Breathe, swallow,” I remind myself

as the familiar sensation comes, my ears filling with fluid

with the thinning atmosphere on my winding ascent

I feel like I’m under water as I travel ever higher

up the rising ridge of the highway that bounds my city neighborhood

I watch the road ahead, knowing if I peer at the scenes to the east, below

dizziness will wash over me

Breathe, swallow, drive onward, watch the road,” I chant

There are colleagues and students waiting


The Descent to Duluth - January 1, 2016
The Descent to Duluth
– January 1, 2016


“Now’s not the time to worry about the drive home,”

the even steeper descent, the city and lake panorama below

the highway sign sometimes flashing

Caution, slippery road ahead or Be prepared to stop, crash ahead

Breathe, swallow, drive onward, watch the road,

There are colleagues and students waiting


(8 – AR.Drone | Enger Park Aerial View | Duluth, MN)

Acknowledgment: This poem is a love story of a different sort than the one that inspired me last evening. I was reminded of the many North-country snowstorms and ice-storms I’ve driven through during my career when I read Annika Perry’s “The Whiteout Years.” It’s one of the most beautiful love stories I’ve ever read. I hope you will visit her lovely site, Annika Perry’s Writing Blog , and take time to read this story and others. It will be time well-spent.


A Message from the Weeping Willow

Carol A. Hand

Once I was young, a mere sapling in this northern clime
nestled comfortably in the embrace of my soul mate
Our trunks touching, our roots and branches intertwined
We grew wide and tall gracefully trusting in our loving fate
Silent witnesses to so many changing times


Willow - February 15, 2012
Willow – February 15, 2012


We weathered frigid winters, autumn storms and summer drought
Blooming hopefully together each spring for almost a century
Now I stand alone, a silent sentinel filled with doubt
realizing in these changing times there is no certainty
pondering deeply what my life was really all about


Willow - May 6, 2016
Willow – May 6, 2016


I’ve watched children walking past me on their way to school
To many I was invisible though I gave them air to breathe and shade
Most were blessed with curiosity and light, but a few were dark and cruel
I sent them all loving energy because that’s just how I am made
I’ve seen the light dim in many over time because the darkest tend to rule


Willow - July 18, 2016
Willow – July 18, 2016


All I ask in the years that remain is for someone to hear my song
To gently touch my weeping branches and lovingly caress my aging frame
I’ll weather more storms but I know now it won’t be long
Please listen to the wind as it speaks through my leaves while I remain
Take time to stand silent beneath my protective shelter, strong,
at one with peaceful loving nature where we all belong


Reflections and Questions

Carol A. Hand

Who am I – a tiny speck on a revolving globe
In a universe that, like me, appears to be
more empty space than substance?
Why am I here – a physical body held on the surface
by a force no one can adequately explain?


Transparent Shadow - Carol A. Hand
Transparent Shadow – Carol A. Hand


There are times when I feel connected, one
with the wonder and beauty surrounding me
And other times I’m absolutely alone
when inexplicable brutality and suffering
painfully extinguish meaning and hope


Dark Shadow - Carol A. Hand
Dark Shadow – Carol A. Hand


For moments in each rotation of this globe
there’s an escape to blessed oblivion
Yet I have always awakened, whatever that means,
to the repeating questions that remain


Stardust Shadow - Carol A. Hand
Stardust Shadow – Carol A. Hand


Who am I?
Where am I?
What is the purpose of life?
Is there something I am meant to learn, to do, to be?


Travels through Trump Territory

Carol A. Hand

On Sunday, I traveled north and west with my family to sparsely populated north-central Minnesota.

We passed through vistas of lakes and forests


and wide open wetlands along a sometimes desolate highway


past a few widely dispersed small towns




and homesteads that have may have seen better times.


The most notable feature was often the yard signs for President, hoping for a better life in places that are on the margins.

The vista sometimes showed the hopefulness of transitions.








We will know soon enough what changes may be in store for us.

It’s up to all of us to continue to work toward the best we can imagine for the future in any case, and to remember to take time to find beauty and hope everywhere we travel.


All photos were taken my my daughter, Jnana Hand, as we continued traveling northwest.