whispers of
(Featured posts)
A boat dropped me on a remote island where puffins gather every summer to breed, and I had come chasing one photograph: a puffin caught mid-launch, wings fully spread, the instant it finally trusted the air enough to leave the cliff. I could not have told you in words
by Janet Gustin, Oct 01, 2026
There is a smell the ocean has that nothing inland can fake. Salt, and something underneath the salt, cold water and living things and air that has traveled a long way to reach you. I live inland now. I did not realize how much I had been missing that smell
by Janet Gustin, Sep 01, 2026
I have been counting down the days to get back to this beach for months. To be perfectly honest, if I am being truthful with myself, it has really been since the day I left last year. The moment that plane touched down and the door opened, I felt something
by Janet Gustin, Jul 26, 2026
I had wanted to see the Galápagos ever since I first heard about it, briefly, in a school classroom years earlier, always wondering what could possibly make a place so famous. Planning the trip itself was the easy part. Being a planner does not make you brave, and I felt
by Janet Gustin, Jul 01, 2026
I live across the street from a nature preserve. Once a year they bring in goats for weed abatement and I look forward to this week with real anticipation — the kind that has me watching out the window for the truck to arrive. There is something special about these goats.
by Janet Gustin, Jun 01, 2026
I was fourteen the first time I walked into a hall of mirrors at a carnival. I remember the noise outside — the lights, the smell of popcorn, the whole colorful spinning world of it. And then stepping through that entrance into something completely disorienting. Every direction I turned, there I
by Janet Gustin, May 01, 2026
More posts
My father told me repeatedly I would never amount to anything. But THE Father told me I am a winner. As I sit here in front of my computer I want you to know I am not writing this from a safe comfortable distance. I grew up with an alcoholic
by Janet Gustin, Apr 01, 2026
So here is an embarrassing confession: I used to scroll right past some of the greatest wildlife photographers in history. Not because their work was not incredible—but because they shot in black and white. I know. I KNOW. In my defense, I have only been doing photography for a
by Janet Gustin, Mar 01, 2026
They had just come back from a car trip around the block with my husband. I was sitting on the couch when Akuna came bounding toward me, tail wagging—a rare moment of pure joy from a dog who had known so little of it in recent months. My heart
by Janet Gustin, Feb 01, 2026
It's January 1st, and I'm doing what everyone does—looking back, taking stock, even thinking about resolutions I'll maybe keep for a week or two. But here's what I can't figure out: I remember last year's moments perfectly,
by Janet Gustin, Jan 01, 2026
This December, my Christmas gift to you isn't wrapped in winter. It's wrapped in Florida sunshine and cotton candy pink feathers. Because the best gifts often come in unexpected packages—and sometimes what we need most in the grey wintery season is a reminder that joy
by Janet Gustin, Dec 01, 2025
The dirt road crests the hill and there it is - Bodie, California's most famous ghost town, preserved in a state of arrested decay. From 1859 to the early 1900s, this gold rush boomtown swelled to nearly 10,000 souls chasing fortune in the Sierra Nevada hills. Sixty-five
by Janet Gustin, Nov 01, 2025