Here's a collaboration that happened while I was down in Florida at
ACA. Ann is a wonderful writer who asked to write about some of my photos. She selected "Weather" that I made in Norway, alongside the road, in 2003. We bonded over our love for northern landscapes.

Does someone live in this red cabin by the inlet
or is it abandoned? (The paint's too fresh, the trim
too clean.) It may be a fish camp used for the salmon run
or by some family in summer coming year after year
to this familiar stretch of greensward on the water's edge.
Today nothing moves but a single gull
tilting over the still water and nothing
indicates how far the other shore but a dot,
it's a house, the field behind it ending at an apron
of talus spilling from raw up-thrust mountains,
snow streaked, distant, their peaks hidden
in the mist that overhangs the whole landscape.
No one is here to look, but someone is always
looking for Innisfree, dreaming of solitude and how
perhaps one summer evening a skiff will cross
the bay breaking the pewter surface. A neighbor.
He'll bring a bottle of schnapps, they'll drink, he'll tell
stories of the place, who lived here, why
they left, he'll name the small flowers that startle
the turf. Wind will clear the fog, riffle
the inlet's surface. Their talk interrupts the silence
and all is changed.
Ann B. Knox
Labels: photography, poetry