These are absolutely stunning images. Yes, I too spent a lot of time as a child watching ice melt over tiny stones and making little fairy houses out of dried grass and twigs.

Mm, yes! Rocks and running water.

We were just saying that we needed to climb the mountain above my mother's house and see if our fairy palace was still there...

My children used to leave fairy gifts on a stump near the lapping edge of the lake. I wish I had taken pictures of them.

I just got photos from Oregon from my friends. I was thinking of caves and the ocean and the tide coming in. There was one time a cave, and there was a man there, setting and apparently not listening any outside noises. He did step outside then shortly, waved his arm and there was a water licking a big rock: tide coming in. I ran up to say that to my friends.

Now I had some photos of a possible cave, where the cave man could've been dwelling. He was a true vagabond. I asked my friends are vagabonds still there, and they doubted it. That's a pity. That guy was on his way to Mexico, just following the shore.

Susan, glad you like these. I knew you would have played with fairies in your childhood, as you still do in your art!

Marly, your fairy palace is still there, I'm sure! Nice that it's close to home. My favourite places from childhood are too far away... but I make up for it with my adult versions of huge rocks on the wild west coast! I want to visit the native petroglyphs soon...

Ripsa, I think I've seen some of those caves along the magestic Oregon coast many years ago. That is an interesting story of the vagabond... like a spirit.

The sound of the water comes flowing out of these fine photographs, Marja-Leena! I consider myself fortunate indeed to have grown up with water from the Vogelsberg in Wetteravia. Ah, if I could only taste that water again!

Rouchswalwe, the names sound as magical as the taste of the water in your memory! And it was great for making beer too, I imagine...

Oh wow, those drops in the last photo are amazing tiny worlds!

Maria, I'm glad you noticed those. They are indeed tiny drops of moisture, caught in an almost invisible spider web. The sparkle of light happened to catch my eye and invite me in...

Rouchswalwe's comment is really touching! That poignant early poem, "Western wind," ran through my head when I read it...

Marja-Leena, Marly has tickled my memory with her comment. Marly, do you mean the medieval verse sung by troubadours in Middle English?
Westron wynde, when wilt thou blow,
The small raine down can raine.
Cryst, if my love were in my armes
And I in my bedde again!

Marly and Rouchswalwe, I don't know or remember the poem. I love the one you quote, R., so I'm also curious if it's what Marly is thinking of. I'm delighted once again to see how my images inspire such interesting responses, thanks both!

Serendipity! The spring storms here often inspire me to recite "O Western Wind", a favourite poem I heard in a college poetry workshop, but never read or heard since. I've always remembered the sentiment and the setting - the voice (according to that long-ago poetry prof) is a sailor on a long voyage at sea - but never knew the origins or saw it in print. I was just thinking of it yesterday, not certain anymore of the second line. Thank you, rouchswalwe!

Hi Anita! Nice to have you visit. And that is indeed serendipity! All you poet types coming together here...