I
smell
fresh fish,
awakening an ocean of bliss, seeing
shimmering bodies flaying in cold water, black spots floating
o like flies air bubbles swirl with white
n on wet foam, tail fin kicks
s k i wall paper, exposing spawning
gravel, my
eyes resting on riffle crests, each redd born as its parent dies.
Not just live and let live, but live and help live
My Own Paradise: Life on Seven and a Half Acres
thoughts from the forest
Photograper of Landscapes, Seascapes, Sunsets, Snowdonia, Wales, Thailand and more
Exploring writing and the creative randomness of life. Snapshots of moments.
The blog of Sandy J. White
ArtPaintArtPaintArtPaintArt
“If you have the words, there's always a chance that you'll find the way.” ― Seamus Heaney
"If you don't turn your life into a story, you just become a part of someone else's story." -Terry Pratchett
Images, words, meanderings.
Where derision meets concision.
Ideas on writing and baking
A collection of beautiful things and thoughts
Everyday musings ....Life as I see it.......my space, my reflections and thoughts !!
A symposium of thought & whimsy
I write because I must
The ancient eavesdropper 
In case you were wondering, a redd is where a salmon deposits its eggs in the gravel. It’s like an underwater nest for fish to cache their offspring. The redds need cold water (optimal is in the low 50s to high 40s degrees F) that is highly oxygenated, and in a stream, this occurs at the riffle crests. After exerting all its energy to swim upstream and spawn, the adult salmon dies, its body reused in the carbon cycle. Nothing is worthless, even in death. We were all born for a purpose just as these beautiful, shimmering salmonids. I have had the privilege of restoring their habitat and seeing redds was the most rewarding part of my work.