Keira McArthur

Snow is both light and heavy, slow and fast, visible and not. It’s a season of contrast. I live in a Canadian province that stretches from Windsor/Detroit (on a latitudinal par with Northern California) to Hudson’s Bay – a stretch between 42 and 57N; from carolinian forest to tundra – “Ontario is Canada’s second largest […]

Annoyed – that on April 10th at 6:45 am the wonderful deep drenching spring rain turned to heavy wet snow before my eyes.  I don’t have a picture for this post because I was too annoyed to take one – you’ll just have to imagine the soggy, cold, icy slop of it and feel my […]

The wind is powerful today, even here. Sudden southeasterlies are brutal and mean, knifing through whatever pitiful layers of outerwear I have:  Go in – NOW.  Find warmth.  Survive.  My God.  If it’s like this here, it must be utter chaos over the northeastern United States. The sky’s heavy with blue-gray clouds pushed relentlessly backwards […]

she docked beside our building all winter last year- I shot these then. every time I passed her I sensed immense strength, impossible age, and exhaustion. Turns out the sailors call her the ‘salt-pig’. She’s the oldest ship in the fleet, and she’s being eaten from the inside out by the road salt she’s carried […]