All posts by tjccamas@comcast.net

National and regional award-winning journalist, photographer, and activist (Hanford, Spokane River, regional clean air issues, national nuclear weapons and waste policy). Former senior editor Camas Magazine, former client and communications director, Center for Justice, Spokane.

Waterworks, 2018

In a tropical childhood that colorfully rumbled through chaos, sunburn, clouds of bougainvillea, and mass perspiration I was blessed with devoted parents. My father, “the coach,” pushed me to become a swimmer even before I could store memories. I am blessed by that shove, but also his later willingness to share his hobby with me. He loved photography, even to the point of converting one of our small rooms into a dark room where he taught me to brew negatives and make prints.

He passed a year ago, suddenly, and he’s been on my mind ever since. Last August, on what would have been is 86th birthday, I spread his ashes in the Spokane River, where many of these photos were taken. So, yes, this collection is dedicated to him, with gratitude and a whole heart.

all images (c) copyright, 2018, Tim Connor

The liquid boundary
Drifting toward November
A new wave
Mares’ tails at the turn
Aeration
Lair of the crawfish
A cold boil
Growing in the canyon
Autumn on the long reach
An invitation
Rumor in the willows
Granite soup
The stones in the shallows
Left turn at the rocks
Communion
Metamorphosis
A face full
Greens in the stream
A glimpse above
Silkstream
The westward flow
Interstellar
The ice goblins of Deep Creek
The crack that lets the light in
September blue
Joyful noise
Where the time went
Where the osprey hunt
Hydration
Latah’s last reach
Casual water
Speaking in tongues
The water on the wall
57 waves
Vibrato
Deep six
Our new flag
My father’s memory
Stepping in

Songs from the Range

My office and kitchen are littered with stones.

On the sill behind my desk is the heaviest of them: a 20-pound lump of palagonite from the Deep Creek ravine west of Spokane. It is a dense, crystalized and discolored chunk of basalt—the result of the Grande Ronde lava flow interacting with water some 16 million years ago. The palagonite ranges in color from the glassy black of obsidian to a rough, yellowish-orange crust. Continue reading Songs from the Range

Catastrophic Elegance

In the shadow of Steamboat Rock, Northrup Canyon offers a remarkable view of a powerful creation.

The first time I hiked into Northrup Canyon I was purposefully off course. It was the day after an old friend’s funeral on Vashon Island, and the lure of solitude was much stronger than the pull of whatever else was piling up alongside the unopened mail back home.

Under those circumstances, the detour onto the primitive road leading to a hanging gorge east of Banks Lake was a near-perfect choice. Within a few minutes I was walking into a majestic rip in the earth.

The lower trail into the heart of the canyon skirts sage and aspen near the mouth.

We’d probably all know more about this spectacular ravine if it weren’t so close (3 miles) to another epic eastern Washington landmark, Steamboat Rock. Steamboat is a massive anvil that rises 800 feet above the surface of the water in upper Grand Coulee. You can’t miss it. Continue reading Catastrophic Elegance