Spring Family Session at Memorial Park by Amanda Powell

Hold on to me

enjoy the ride

we spin and fall

and run and rise.

I’ll be here with you

but know.

I’m working on the art of letting go.


A nice day for a quick session at Memorial park with Felicia and family. Felicia is a fellow Bellingham photographer, and friend, find more of her here. https://feliciamarie.us


365- The End by Amanda Powell


Your lively tones keep me from acknowledging the end of so many things.

They distract from the proximity of another year gone, and also people gone too soon. 

Moments frozen, but still fleeting. Things I try to hold on to, but fully understand the inevitable leaving. The good, bad, everything is rooted in this temporary ground of being.

Temporary. It’s a word understood regretfully, bittersweet and hammered home at 11:59 every December 31st.

I spend the colors of December trying to keep it all close, this life and the frames I’ve seen throughout the year. I cling to the rituals our family has and avoid the rushing as much as possible. We ask ourselves were the time goes, and one complicated answer is, it gets lost in the ceaseless movement, the list of must, should, and want to. And things end, and things begin, and the cycle goes at a speed none of us can fully comprehend.

2018 was a contemplative year, one of figuring out the reality of things.

Thanks for sticking around to see the end.

365-Month Eleven by Amanda Powell

Our Month

A tour of the South, Alabama, Tennessee, and Kentucky.

Feildtrips, Outdoors, and Fall Color.

Nearing the end of so many things.

Hopeful that an end brings something new, and not just finality.

Uncertainty, but solidarity through it all with early morning conversations about things outside of us that matter. Conversations about how we matter.

Wading through this idea of life,

what it means,

what’s important,

and why we do the things we choose to do.

November, a month to move, to reflect, and brace for celebration, as the end of the year softly and swiftly approaches.

365- Month Ten by Amanda Powell


“It’s as if you see the world through dark glasses, so naturally everything seems dark. But if that is the case, instead of lamenting about the world’s darkness, you could just remove the glasses. Perhaps the world will appear terribly bright to you then and you will involuntarily shut your eyes. Maybe you’ll want the glasses back on, but can you even take them off in the first place? Can you look directly at the world? Do you have the courage?”

-Ichiro Kishmi & Fumitake Koga

The Courage to Be Disliked

Reading this book right now. I have a feeling it’s going to be a top one for me in 2019.

Enjoy this October recap!

Orcas Island by Amanda Powell

In October we took a trip to commemorate our 10 year anniversary, which was in April, which is finally being blogged in January. Confused yet? The jist is, after 3 years of regular life, we finally took a vacation.


Bryan and I have been married 10 years, together 12. It was and is a great reason to go somewhere different, which turned out to be only 30 miles away (if you were a bird)- Orcas Island. It’s a land mass we’ve seen across the bay for the last 3 years, but never ventured to. Tons of photos in this post; be ye warned :-)

We had a marvelous time, doing a whole lot of nothing. We cooked meals, played checkers, beach combed, watched movies, and read books. So, I suppose we didn’t do “nothing.” But given our schedule for the last three years, it felt that way. It was magnificent.

I’m thankful for my time with my husband. I’m fortunate to have married my (still) best friend, and while no relationship is without its strife, I wouldn’t change it. A life with someone who stays, helps the healing from life’s inevitable wounds, knows how to laugh, and isn’t afraid to talk politics, existentialism, or simulation theory before 7am (even when I am), is a treasure.

Coming Home

By Mary Oliver

When we are driving in the dark,

on the long road to Provincetown,

when we are weary,

when the buildings and the scrub pines lose their familiar look,

I imagine us rising from the speeding car.

I imagine us seeing everything from another place–

the top of one of the pale dunes, or the deep and nameless

fields of the sea.

And what we see is a world that cannot cherish us,

but which we cherish.

And what we see is our life moving like that

along the dark edges of everything,

headlights sweeping the blackness,

believing in a thousand fragile and unprovable things.

Looking out for sorrow,

slowing down for happiness,

making all the right turns

right down to the thumping barriers to the sea,

the swirling waves,

the narrow streets, the houses,

the past, the future,

the doorway that belongs

to you and me.


Gripping this little daredevil for dear life. >>>>>>>>>


365- Month Nine by Amanda Powell

Colorful September.

A myriad of tones in leaves and skies.

An end to Summer. The gateway to Fall.

One of my favorite months.

365- Month Eight by Amanda Powell

On Fire

August, the month of fires. A fire burned in us to capture everything left of summer, pull it towards us, and never let go. We were outside as much as possible, as much as the air quality would allow. We had a dog get super sick on us, we bought groceries, we stressed, we worked, we parented, we drank coffee of course. Life happened.

And fires, in our state, to the North in Canada, to neighboring states in the south and to the east. So much has burned this year. And it continues.

I worry that one of these years it’ll touch our city. Will it be a nudge, or a full on assault? They say so much land along the west coast just needs to burn. That the population here has left forests who once regulated themselves through burning, out of whack. Its understandable. And with the change in our climate, there are conditions where fire would be (and currently is) devastating. The human desire to exist and live in beautiful places isn’t wrong, but these consequences are hard to watch.

And ideas, spreading like fire. Good ones, and some really bad ones. Ignited, people are acting on these ideas, horrendous things are being said and done. A lack of empathy seems to have caught hold of so many, too. And I worry how long that particular fire is going to burn.

So everything around us feel like kindling. And what can be done? You douse things with as much watery love you can, donate your extra garden hose, manage your own fires so surrounding growth stays healthy. You hope, once the heat is over, things can calm down and you are able to breathe again. And in the interim, you learn to breathe smoke.

Fire is a powerful, destructive force. But it can also be a catalyst for change, and even more beautifully, regeneration. I hope we start to see more of the later.

Halloween 2018 by Amanda Powell

We’ve created quite a nice tradition here in Bellingham for Halloween. Trick or treat in Fairhaven, take and bake pizzas for dinner, then a non-scary Halloween movie after dinner. I’d imagine as the girls get older we’ll carve pumpkins and adopt other activities which span further into the night, but for now it’s a simple, fun holiday. I’m loving the girls continued enthusiasm with it. This year Eliza was old enough to really enjoy the festivities, which makes things so much easier for everyone.

Some seriously awesome costumes this year! Eliza’s eyes were lit up for most of our walk around Fairhaven, like this:

You guys, this was just delightful :-D :-D