McCrim

I have made two decisions regarding my profile heee. First, with all the wonderful art posted to this site, it is no longer enough to just post pictures. So now I hope to add something unique to each picture. I figure if I cannot write a poem or something to accompany the picture, maybe I should not post it. And srcond, since a lot of my expression is on guitar, I should post audio clips too. Here is the first: https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B8t_tMTCZZtVTjh6Q296WUJ6Nmc/view?usp=sharing When I get to a PC I will look into making this post nicer.

©Joseph Martin Hamill Late November and it is fall. At least along the sound when I left it, yellows and evergreens, to climb, rising into whites, and greys, and wintergreens of the first snow. The road turns, and I park and continue on foot, unplanned, coatless, into the winter. Snow from the ferns and moss lands on my shoes, wrong ones for hiking on a good day. The clumpy flakes turn to shiny beads of water, then to dark wet leather. Watching saturation, and not watching where I go, clumsy, I brush hemlock and more falls on my hair and my neck. This too beads, and saturates. I know where I am going. Once I approached from b