Brian Buckner
Articles by Brian Buckner :
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Pescadores de Tonchigüe
Edie and I were laughing about our constant need to know what’s over the next hill when El Fantasma was almost swallowed by a truck-defying pothole. As we lurched through… -
Spooky backwaters of Río Cayapas and Borbon
Hailing from Louisiana, I’ve weathered many summers with 90-plus straight days of temperatures above 100 and humidity to match. A quick trip outside my home would have sweat droplets as… -
Dominos of the mists
The experience of solo hiking in the Caja’s range of the Andes has cost more than one adventurer their lives. Several months ago, according to CuencaHighLife and local newspapers, an… -
Camaraderie
It was early in the morning, barely light out, as the lapping sounds of a rising tide grew more demanding. The ocean’s water was beginning to flow into some backwater… -
Thoughts
A successful photographer must be adept at the skills of observation. I watch all types of people in all ways necessary for my purposes. And, I’m good at doing it… -
Three Hatted Ladies
As I knelt on the dew freshened grass, I was sure fairies and hobbits would soon be about. It was gnomish here too so I couldn’t rule them out. Positioning… -
Pelando la caña
I hadn’t been in Ecuador for a very long time before I was able to put together ways for Edie and I to get to the country cheaply and easily.… -
Tres señoras
They were headed somewhere important. You could tell that by the way they moved. Actually, they sort of swayed but it was with purpose and determination. They were certainly syncopated… -
El acordeonista
I turned up my collar to the demands of a brisk, damp wind as I skirted the corner of Pío Bravo and Manuel Vega on the east side of El… -
Línea de baile
The original intent of a photograph is determined solely by its maker. However, interpretations abound by others who have various degrees of familiarity with art. The result? The work is… -
Niña de Saraguro
There’s much to be said for reverence and pausing to recognize another person and their condition. For me, the words “caring” and “respect” rise quickly to top of mind when… -
El Wiki
He’s a joker, he protects. He dances with his small “look-alike” guaga, moving through the crowd with both grace and abandon. He steals your hat and wears it for a… -
‘Scuffling Footsteps,’ a scary poem
Scuffling Footsteps My feet scuff quiet, quite unnoticed, amongst the white stones, pale light ghosting. Not sun of day, nor moon of night, between perhaps, I’m filled with fright. Time…