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Walking With Eagles is a collection of original poems and photographs by Lindy Low Le Coq. A lifelong naturalist, amateur photographer and bird enthusiast, Lindy’s verse, composition and photographs open a window into the essence of her subjects. Her poems and photography reflect the rich natural wonders of the Pacific Northwest.
Bald Eagles mature over the course of five years. Walking With Eagles invites the reader to take a poetic and visual tour of this odyssey.
view ~ Walking With Eagles ~ in top menu bar for a preview, though the folio is much nicer!
Tag Archives: analysis
We had both transgressed. I immediately apologized — with no response from her for months. In order to move myself out of the emotional victim position and begin to heal my heart and soul, I gave her grace — a … Continue reading
The victim triangle (aka drama triangle) helped me come to terms with what had happened. In my desire to help (rescue) her, I hooked myself into her drama. While I started out as the rescuer, her swift natural reaction was … Continue reading
As this week of highlighting “accomplishment” comes to a close, I feel compelled to talk about my participation in student protests against the war in Vietnam. It was a time of passion on college campuses, and a defining moment for … Continue reading
When I first learned about Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) pieces of the puzzle I had been trying to solve about myself fell into place. The theory helped explain why I would become ever more gloomy as winter approached, and conversely, … Continue reading
Hope forever flutters like a baby bird featherless – naked will it fly on fledgling wings or fall, a soft sack of tiny broken bones – bereft. Wish is hope suspended a floating feather drifting ever closer then sailing away … Continue reading
It was long after those halcyon nights with our Cliff House friends drinking pitcher after pitcher of beer at The Goal Post Tavern, punching quarters into the Juke Box to listen to another round of Honky Tonk Women or Jumpin’ … Continue reading
my hands pull out the dead shrub I pour water into a hole in the earth plant a life form birds twitter above clouds swirl the universe opens in a heartbeat stories around night fires over centuries and generations seek … Continue reading
What a sad place the world would be without fantasy. There is a poignant scene in Miracle on 34th Street when Kris Kringle teaches Suzie how to imagine. It always reminds me how important it is to encourage a child’s … Continue reading
That first summer in Pullman I began to smell like oily sardines to myself. A physically immature eleven year old, I longed for my body to develop. This strong off-putting odor marked the beginning of my very slow odyssey into … Continue reading