Wurke n Bills Photography

01/06/2026

07/05/2026

Come Face-to-Face with Whales and Hear the Epic Alaska Stories Told on the Water 👇🏻

07/05/2026

I look at this and say 'o wow.. Glacier in Alaska.

07/05/2026

Love this image. Ghats, Varanasi. On the Ganga. Beautiful

07/05/2026

Me at Paris Ritz

07/05/2026

Market Day. Maryborough

07/05/2026

After Elvis Presley died in August 1977, Graceland did not simply grow quiet. It changed its temperature. The laughter that once spilled down the staircases faded into something hollow. The kitchen no longer carried the late night scent of fried peanut butter sandwiches. The television sets that had once flickered through the early hours stood dark. The house that had pulsed with movement now felt suspended, as if holding its breath.

One by one, the people who had filled those rooms began to leave. Bodyguards who had stood watch through endless nights. Friends who had shared jokes in the Jungle Room until dawn. Staff who knew exactly how he liked his coffee or how to prepare his favorite meals. They packed photographs, folded uniforms, and stepped out through the gates. Staying felt unbearable. For many of them, Graceland without Elvis was not a home. It was an echo.

Billy Smith, Elvis’s cousin and one of his closest companions, later admitted that he could not remain there. Walking those halls meant reliving the last conversation, the last laugh, the last time Elvis had called his name. Leaving was not betrayal. It was self preservation. Grief does not only live in tears. Sometimes it lives in empty rooms that hurt too much to enter.

The transformation was subtle but profound. The living room that once hosted impromptu jam sessions now stood arranged and untouched. The piano waited in silence. Graceland became something larger than a residence. It became a shrine. Visitors would eventually walk through it with reverence, but in those first days it felt raw and fragile. The house had lost the heartbeat that gave it warmth.

And yet, even in stillness, something remained. Perhaps it was the imprint of decades of music and memory woven into the walls. Perhaps it was the way the sunlight still fell across the staircase exactly as it had when he walked it. Those who visit often say they feel him there. Not loudly. Not dramatically. Just a presence that lingers. Graceland may have fallen silent after Elvis, but it never became empty. His absence reshaped it. His memory continues to fill it.

11/02/2026

❤️Alaska

"Moon setting behind Seward Alaska"

Probably one of the coolest photos! Wow! Colter Broadwell 👏

📷 - Colter Broadwell Photography

06/02/2026

Was Elvis Presley handsome? By any honest measure, he seemed to win every possible draw in the genetic lottery. The symmetry of his face, the strong jawline, the expressive eyes, the effortless way he carried himself. Even in still photographs, there is a sense of movement, as if the image can barely contain him. You don’t have to be told he was attractive. You feel it instantly.

What made it even more striking was that the camera never fully captured him. People who saw Elvis in person often said the same thing. He was more compelling in real life. There was a warmth, a magnetism, a living energy that didn’t flatten into film or paper. His smile wasn’t just handsome, it was disarming. His presence didn’t ask for attention, it pulled it in without effort.

Looks alone don’t usually create legends, but with Elvis they amplified everything else. The beauty worked in harmony with the voice, the confidence, the vulnerability that flickered beneath the surface. He could look powerful one moment and gentle the next, which made him impossible to reduce to a single image or type.

So yes, Elvis was handsome. Undeniably so. But that word barely scratches the surface. What people responded to was not just how he looked, but how alive he felt standing in front of them. The kind of presence that makes you understand, without explanation, why the world stopped and stared.

06/02/2026

For a breakfast that captures the spirit of the frontier, Gwennie's Old Alaska Restaurant in Anchorage is a must-visit! You walk into a dining room filled with Alaskan artifacts, from sleds to taxidermy, telling the story of the state. You order the Reindeer Sausage Omelet or the sourdough pancakes, which are made from a starter that is decades old. The "Crab Benedict" is a rich, savory option featuring fresh Alaskan crab meat. The portions are huge, designed to fuel you for a day of adventure, and the coffee keeps coming. The atmosphere is casual and rugged, perfect for families and tourists alike. You leave full, happy, and having learned a little bit of history while you ate.