Photographs by Kiley Voss
Five photographs
The Thaw
For all the talk of warmth and rebirth, spring is a really ugly season. Trails turn to mud pits and roads to rivers as the thaw begins to take hold, and the brown carcasses of what was left at the end of fall begin to reappear. The ground cover is a layer of partially decayed leaves, and all the damage the winter did is slowly revealed.
Of Wind
White Wind / Frozen layering like ice sheets, / Yet wicked and swift, / It carves and scours its path.
Staring Skyward
Arcturus / Leader of the lucida in their nightly procession, / The key: receiver of lightning
Any Moment
Eurydice didn’t look quite so lost yesterday / as I passed the sculpture garden on the way to class.
Observations
An ice footprint stays / long after maker is gone / snowfall soon obscures.
The Siren
Sometimes someone will drown in another part of the river and I can’t help, because the river is large and I am only one person.
Catching the light
The secondary rain shower / trickles from the leaves of the honey locust
Cloudwatching
wispy thoughts drift / across the dome of the sky / as I lay here / supported on the warm earth / in the stillness of the / wind
Contact Spinning A Fire Staff
“Many of us would say that we are conscious of our daily activity even though we are not actively watching ourselves executing these actions”
Oakwood Rambles
"I pause here only to gather my thoughts, but I am surprised at how much I have already observed."
The Naturalist’s Dilemma
Staring at blank faces while I speak / they’re like walls, plain and blank and even without interest; / now I’m frustrated and careless but flabbergasted nonetheless / as my tone it gets higher, the pace, it gets faster
Vectors of Understanding
I am content to know/ The protecting embrace of a maple/ Shielding me/ From harsh January winds/
Against Ourselves
After the Ides of March, four hundred / thousand pure casualties. / Darkness stole the glossy white pearl / Icy tundra untainted, solitary.
The Story Tree
“What is it about our need to tell stories, to leave a relic of our voice behind for the world? We speak, but sounds dissipate into the air, ephemeral as our own lives.”
The I Am
You ARE a moment/ you are a mystery/ blooming into infinity
Soils
I've never seen a dodo bird in the flesh. / I poke my skin in genetics laboratory. / And I'm not proud of my address / in Centennial Hall; / I've got Westcott envy.
Lingering Wires
"But she doesn’t lie still, she continues to thrash and moan, spraying blood across the ground and staining the foam at her mouth red."
Handcrafted
"The land didn’t take my grandfather away from me. My grandfather gave his life to taking care of the land and passed this relationship on to each of his grandchildren."
Teach Your Children Well
"Unfortunately, we may have been among the last to feel the earth between our toes, to lie beneath the sun-rayed canopy, and remember to 'be home before dark.'"
Viridescent Beings
"Once you know a space in its intimacy, love is sure to follow. Once a connection is formed with a piece of land, a park, a home, or an entire area, the love that develops will tie a piece of you to that place for your life."
In My Wildest Dreams
"It’s like we are stuck in the passenger seat of a car racing through time and the wheel is just out of reach. We are powerless, yet we can do anything. Be anyone. Go anywhere."
Contentment
I am content to know/ The protecting embrace of a maple/ Shielding me/ From harsh January winds/
A Sated Soul
Were I born with paws,/ would my footsteps move less earth?/ Were I covered in fur,/ would cotton stay bound to its burrs?/
The Expedition
"The astronomer had calculated where the planet we were looking for would lay: the “Goldilocks” zone, where the star’s heat would neither be so close that the planet’s water would boil nor so far that it would freeze—the temperature at which life was likely to form."