scope by makoto yabuki
Tokyo – Autumn Colors Part 2
Slowmotion & Timelapse Theater on Vimeo
The First Three Months
She’s Here – an update to ‘Dealing With It’
November 3, 2009 8:13 P.M. A trans-formative moment for so many. A beginning for one.
In this family, following in the tiny footsteps of 1st Granddaughter Sophia, Kaylani is here. Of all the miracles in this world, none surpasses welcoming a new baby in the family. It is exactly in this moment that one tends to reflect on life and begins to think of all the new possibilities in this suddenly expanded and inclusive world. The question becomes what can I do to ensure this precious new life gets what she deserves so she can someday take charge of her own destiny. Our own troubles, no matter how hard they may have appeared, give way to an innate desire to do what must be done. To commit to the priorities that matter most. To love her, to protect her, to show her how to live and how to love. For me and others, a complete 180 from those early days when I first found out my teenage daughter was pregnant. Fear, you have no place here. Only thing that matters is love. Dealing With It
To Baby Kaylani: Already you have brought so much joy to so many. Thank God for bringing you here. To Ariel and Keenan: May you always remember The Moment. Everything now is geared to putting yourselves in positions to provide her with all she needs. With your love, I know you both will. 
AUTUMN – HD on Vimeo
The lavenders of the Provence HD on Vimeo
LEAF Video by Matthew Brown
Time Lapse of Winter Scene by Mockmoon
Winter Time A Poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
Late lies the wintry sun a-bed,
A frosty, fiery sleepy-head;
links but an hour or two; and then,
A blood-red orange, sets again.
Before the stars have left the skies,
At morning in the dark I rise;
And shivering in my nakedness,
By the cold candle, bathe and dress.
Close by the jolly fire I sit to warm my frozen bones a bit;
Or with a reindeer-sled, explore the colder countries round the door.
When to go out, my nurse doth wrap me in my comforter and cap;
The cold wind burns my face, and blows its frosty pepper up my nose.
Black are my steps on silver sod;
Thick blows my frosty breath abroad;
And tree and house, and hill and lake, are frosted like a wedding cake.
