Sean Birch

We like to think that trees drop their leaves and go dormant for the winter. Trees, however, like to think of it as "stealth mode."

Clouds moving across the sky in Kimberley, BC.
f/5.6, 30s, ISO400, 11mm. #longexposure #photography #monochrome #agoodplacetobe

Do you think that people are unhappy when their experience of the world isn't consistent with their framework for understanding the world? Like, if you believe you live in a good country, then evidence that your country isn't good would cause you distress, and prompt you to revise your framework?

My adorable dachshund, Sisu. No dog I've met has ever been more addicted to sunbeams.

I like this photo because I was in the right place at the right time. Taken at Island View Beach on Vancouver Island.

One of my past favorites. This one was taken beside the Copper River near Chitina, Alaska, while first nations folks were dip netting nearby. A big print of this hangs in my living room.

If you come back, I'll know you love me. But if you never go, I won't be sure.

This is Sisu

Amen to that.

I'm surprised there isn't one already. Have you checked?

Between Slocan and New Denver, BC, on a recent bikepacking trip. #BlueSkyMonday

Santiago, Chile. #BlueSkyArtShow #TheRoad

Eleven elected elders expect extreme excesses.

Shepherds helped me erect the deer fence where depressed ferrets pestered red-necked greebes, terns, petrels, kestrels, even dew-speckled egrets.

Look not to cold robots for comfort. Go throw rocks from town to yon woodlot so ghosts don't spook poor folks.

Skiing in kilts with thigh-high slits is illicit, innit?

Alaska man can't kayak past grandma and grandpa's attack crab phalanx.

Knock knock.

Now who?

Solo town.

Slow down who?

No, solo town.

So low down who?

Ok, ok, stop!

Next lent we'll need shredded Greek cheese, well-fed beef, three sweet red bell peppers, twelve green eggs, free beer, except never beets.

Dada's parka traps fat man warmth.

Blood donors from Toronto won't swoon for lost gold spoons, good pop songs, moon rock photos, torn boot socks, gross worm compost or most bookworm grottos.

Seven western men get wet feet, wet knees, even wet teeth. Hence, the creek needed better levees there, where the weeds grew best.

Don't worry about whether people like you, worry about whether people know you like them. Start by listening, understanding and approving of them. Send the good feelings out, rather than trying to suck them in.

You are not a broken version of normal. You are a perfect version of you.

Think of me as your spiritual neighbor, who you can always borrow a cup of spiritual sugar from.

This opens up ideas like collective responsibility and collective sin that I find both challenging and helpful.

We place too much emphasis on the idea that the messages of the Bible are meant for individuals and to be applied by individuals. I get much more mileage by reading the Bible as being addressed towards a community.

God seems to value our freedom to choose very highly. I don’t find any examples of God the Father or Jesus imposing a decision on anyone. Better to have someone choose the proper course of action than prevent them from choosing the wrong one.

Worrying about whether people like you encourages you to find fault in yourself. Worrying about whether other people know that you like them encourages you to find good things in them.

Don't turn a critical eye on yourself, turn an uncritical eye on others.

It's not a dad joke, it's a father figure of speech.