Archive for September 3rd, 2010

03
Sep
10

Fly Tying: Subtle Deceit (Gadwall & Basic Black)

Love mallard, teal and especially gadwall for wings.  Also, the subtlety of  less can be more in low, clear, late summer flows. Not a low water hook (wide gap here), but a sparser tie. Maybe…..


A bit scruffy at the head...

Tried a different hook style....

03
Sep
10

Bird Tattoo’s..the Empty Nest…Dad’s Drawer

Naomi's Five Birds on Rear Shoulder (Under the Yardarm)

“As a child I loved to peek into my Dad’s blue metal compartment drawers, full of feather, fishing line, nail clippers, scissors, waxes, threads…  I wasn’t really meant to be looking in it.  Then there was the time I helped Dad untangle his fishing line.

Throughout my life, whether I be child, brooding teen, uni student, young wife, mother, part of our family is centered around the blue metal drawers and its contents.  Contents that have now grown to fill a whole bench in The Shack, feathers a big part of that bench.” Under the Yardarm

Naomi, the mum, the wife, has a blog that is perhaps better suited to your wife, girlfriend or sis. She is in transition. She reminisces above about another time. She is caught up in the past, the present, the future. On second thought, it wouldn’t hurt you to peruse her thoughts. It might help you with those that operate on a different plain…one we would be well served to acknowledge more often. For those searching for the bird or feather tattoo…another variation of birds fly and the meanings of family, empty nest, separation..on and on.

03
Sep
10

Nature Reclaims the Bones (Bridal Veil)

Old Bridal Veil Oregon...Chinese Plots (SwittersB)

A once thriving logging operation sluiced logs down to a village below. A staging area for logs and a thriving village with a homogenized Euro culture that prospered. Beautiful homes and picket fences with well manicured gardens and grounds were etched out of the rugged environment. Chinese gardeners maintained the tenuous grooming. The village withered, the homes became a shambles and then burned or were dismantled. Like so many ventures up the Gorge, most have vanished into ashes, vegetation and graves. The area before you is reputed to be a gateway to some graves. As you stand hip deep in the tangles, with rugged rock precipices as a back drop, reverence for me, has always been the invisible tether that stops me from venturing deeper into the forest. Just knowing it is there, or to some might be there, is enough for me.




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