Weekly Photo Challenge: Odds and Ends

This has been quite a week of ups and downs.  And the weather here seemed to reflect that too.  Last weekend was bright and sunny, enticing us to head to Torrey Pines (a beautiful local state beach and park with incredible views of the ocean) to do some hiking and photography.  This place is known for its iconic Torrey Pine trees, trees not found in many other places.  They are perfectly adapted for life on windy cliffs, have resources for collecting water from the ever-present marine layer (you may know it as fog), and are simply beautiful.  Here’s one I captured on our hike.


Giant flying beetles have become more prevalent lately.  Brilliant green and LOUD, they’re hard to miss.  As we hiked, I slowed down and took some time to watch this guy go about his pollinating duties, hunkering over some native plants.  I wish I could get a dragonfly to slow down a bit and let me get close enough to photograph it!


It wasn’t perfectly clear, but the view was still pretty spectacular from my vantage on the cliffs.  If you look closely you’ll notice the high tide as the waves wash close to the foot of the cliffs and off in the distance you can almost see the Scripps Pier near La Jolla Shores and the village of La Jolla jutting out at the end of the curve.


By Tuesday the marine layer had thickened so that it was essentially rain!  My errands left me soggy as I headed out without a jacket or umbrella.  Luckily it was still warm-ish, although not the summer weather we all imagine when we think of the beach.  But nothing could dampen my spirits–my son and grandson were on their way for a short visit!

I have enjoyed days spent with small boys this summer.  Now 17 months, all three grandsons are mobile and curious about the world.  By Wednesday the sun was back and we headed to the aquarium to take a close look at fish and other marine life.  We were greeted by the life-sized whale sculptures–part of a fountain–in front of the aquarium.  I am always amazed at how much the sky looks like the ocean…are we looking up or down?


We loved the jellies and the seahorses, weird and wonderful, floating effortlessly in their tanks.  And these enormous sea stars showing off their suction feet in the eerie blue light remind me of all the life I don’t get to see as I walk along the shore of the wondrous ocean.  It was fun watching my grandson delight in the sea creatures…and the glass and the lights and everything else he noticed!


But the highlight of our week was Thursday’s trip to the beach.  A year ago when my grandson was still a baby, our trip to the beach wasn’t much fun.  It was windy and cool and the ocean water was cold, resulting in a crying baby.  This year, a now mobile toddler on a warm and sunny day, couldn’t wait to run on the beach.  And his first touch of the salty water resulted in giggles and screeches of delight.  He couldn’t get enough of that salty, sandy ocean.  I can’t wait for his cousins to put their toes in the glory of summer’s Pacific!


Friday was a sad day.  My son and grandson had to head home and our beloved cat of 17 years died.  Jack (and his brother Phil) were adopted at 16 weeks seventeen years ago and have been integral family members since that moment.  Phil passed in March, with Jack hanging on months longer.  Our house is quiet and Geoff’s lap is empty.  Jack would sit on him for hours and hours–we called Geoff “cat couch” since both cats loved to be in his lap.  We’re taking a break from pets for now, taking time to grieve and to explore life without cats.  We are truly empty nesters at this point!  (This is Jack from a couple of years ago)


With our house echoing, we spent most of the weekend out and about.  Yesterday we ended up in Alpine, a small town midway up our local mountains.  We explored an outlet mall on an Indian reservation, had lunch at a local cafe, and turned down roads to see what we could find.  Geoff loves bears, so I had to get out and take some photos when we found this family of bears carved of wood in front of a home on a hillside.


My photos this week are a collection of odds and ends, with no real theme tying them together other than telling a story of my week.  What odds and ends might you find through your lens this week?

You can post your photo alone or along with some words: commentary, a story, a poem…maybe even a song! I love to study the photographs that others’ take and think about how I can use a technique, an angle, or their inspiration to try something new in my own photography. (I love a great mentor text…or mentor photo, in this case!) I share my photography and writing on social media. You can find me on Instagram and Twitter using @kd0602. If you share your photos and writing on social media too, please let me know so I can follow and see what you are doing. To help our Weekly Photo community find each other, use the hashtag #oddsandends for this week and include @nwpianthology in your post.

So grab your camera or look through your camera roll and see what odds and ends you can find to tell a story about your week.  Whatever life serves up, I’m always glad to have photography to help me process and understand my experiences.  I look forward to seeing and hearing about yours!

Plus, here’s a link to an article I read this week about how photography can actually help your stay in the moment.  I know it works for me!  https://www.wired.com/story/stay-in-the-moment-take-a-picture/?mbid=social_twitter_onsiteshare

Weekly Photo Challenge: White

Sometimes my photos are filled with color: brilliant blues of skies and water, greens of leaves and grass, and other colors here and there.  But this week, I noticed that a lot of my photos had a lack of color…and plenty of white.

Last weekend’s visit to downtown Carlsbad allowed for a delicious lunch at a favorite restaurant, a refreshing walk on the beach, and an opportunity to visit the Carlsbad Alkaline Water Company…a place that hosts the most healthful water, known for its alkaline (rather than acidic) quality.  I’ve been by the place a few times, its a few blocks from where I get my hair cut, but this time I spent some time focused on the water storage tanks and the top of the self-serve water dispensers.  The white of the clouds make the metallic of tanks and spire even more prominent.


The death of Geoff’s mom meant an unscheduled visit to Alabama this week to spend time with family and say our goodbyes.  It also meant time in the sky high above the puffy white clouds, time to reflect and remember the woman who gave life to and raised my precious husband.  I was lucky to know and love her for so many years.


I was surprised at how green Nashville was from above, but couldn’t resist using a black and white filter on the view from above.  I love the way the absence of color changes the view to give it an almost map-like quality…particularly focused on the river (the Cumberland, I believe).  The white seems to highlight the human-made aspects, where the dark seems to be the greens of the lush vegetation.


You never know when you will find a parade.  The unexpected white police car with sirens screaming pulled up in front of the intersection we were about to cross, stopping traffic in all directions.  And soon we were treated to the Alabama A&M marching band, in their white t-shirts marching to the beat of the drums at the back crossing the intersection to get to another part of the campus to continue their practice.  A fun pause on our way to meet other family members for lunch after the inurnment service.


And no trip to Huntsville, Alambama would be complete without a glimpse of rockets.  Known for the Space and Rocket center, there is evidence of space travel around the city.  We did get the opportunity to visit the center–a place we hadn’t been since our boys were quite little.  We visited a science of rock and roll exhibit, explored the space shuttle, and learned about other rockets and space related equipment.  I loved this view from the window.


It’s good be home, easing back into my routine…such as it is deep into the summer.  In spite of warm weather, the beach was not sunny when I went today.  White clouds obscured the sun for most of my walk.  There were a few seagulls hanging out and lots of lots of beach-goers and a bunch of Junior Lifeguards (a popular summer camp program in our area).  The walk was refreshing and offered me a chance to breathe deeply.


So where is the color missing from your life right now?  Will you find it in white clouds, pale walls, delicate flower blossoms?  Take a look around for white and share what you find with us.

You can post your photo alone or along with some words: commentary, a story, a poem…maybe even a song! I love to study the photographs that others’ take and think about how I can use a technique, an angle, or their inspiration to try something new in my own photography. (I love a great mentor text…or mentor photo, in this case!) I share my photography and writing on social media. You can find me on Instagram and Twitter using @kd0602. If you share your photos and writing on social media too, please let me know so I can follow and see what you are doing. To help our Weekly Photo community find each other, use the hashtag #white for this week and include @nwpianthology in your post.

Take a look around for that absence of color that we know as white.  What will you find and document through your lens?

Flanerie and a Doodle

I’ve been around the edges of CLMOOC this summer, connected to the planning through Slack and google docs and twitter and Facebook, but mostly staying on the sidelines–watching makes rather than making.  I can come up with excuses, but maybe this is my summer of peripheral participation or lurking as some call it.

But in some ways, I would say I’m making on my own terms this summer.  I’ve made time for babies–joyously playing with those sweet boys who know me as grandma, rolling on the floor, scooping them up for hugs and kisses just because, reading book after book after book until I know (and I suspect they do too) all the words by heart, crooning very old songs in my off-key sort of way and relearning all the Raffi songs I have long forgotten (have you sung “Apples and Bananas” lately?).  I’ve made time for reading–sucking in words: light fiction, mysteries, kid’s novels and graphic novels…I just finished The Handmaid’s Tale (scary), I’m diving into Neil Gaiman’s American Gods and at the same time hanging out with an old favorite author Natalie Goldberg through The Great Spring (a find from a wonderful bookstore in Mendocino, CA).  And I’ve made time for walking–sometimes long aimless walks on the beach, some days of hikes deep into the redwood  forests of northern California, exploring the nooks and crannies of the amazing place I live, of course taking photos all the while.

Yesterday I just had to go to the local beach…that place most of you are familiar with if you read my blog even semi regularly.  I hadn’t been in more than two week, having been out of town exploring other parts of California.  It’s summer, our weather is hot, especially in areas away from the coast so the beach was crowded.  The parking lot was jammed as were the streets nearby.  So I cruised the nearby neighborhoods until I found a parking space, beginning my walk from there.

I walked from the crowds towards the beach space less frequented by visitors, my space, the space I feel called to explore and wander.  As I walked and wandered (using my new word flanerie), I found myself “doodling” with words in my head.  Worrying that I would forget the words at the end of my walk, I stopped and sat on a rock and typed some of the words into my phone to play around with later.

Here’s my word doodle, a poem of sorts.

She’s calling my name in cools

blues, greens, frosted white

singing tunes that synchronize with my breath and heartbeat

inviting me to soak my toes in her earthy tea with each step

Yes, she’s calling my name

And to top it off, I found a face in the cliff.  I walk here all the time and this is the first time I have seen this face.  Maybe she was calling my name.


Weekly Photo Challenge: Flanerie

Even when life is busy I try to make time to wander aimlessly.  Some days I am better at it than others.  When I head out with my camera without a specific goal in mind, I often find unexpected treasures…a slice of light, a shadow, a bird flying low, or something I can’t even imagine when I make the decision to wander.  And I love how the process of wandering sets off my wondering impulses, creating curiosity, leading me to further exploration and ultimately to new learning opportunities.

I didn’t know there was a name for this until I read Deanna’s blogpost the other day and learned about a course she is designing with flanerie at its heart.  The key to flanerie as I understand it, is the reflection on that wandering and wondering (through writing) that leads to new understandings of ourselves as humans and our connections in the larger world.

The past week had me wandering along the coast of northern California.  We had an overall game plan before we left home, we knew where we would spend each night but the rest of our time was unscheduled leaving room for exploration and spontaneity.  There is something magical about a redwood forest.  Trees that seem to reach up forever create their own climate.  Sun shines in slants, creating textures of light and shadow.  And there is the quiet–as dense as the trees themselves–I felt like I could hear my heart beat and focus on each breath as I walked miles through the forests.


When I learned that architect Julia Morgan had designed a structure for a space in the forest, I knew I wanted to wander there.  We headed there early, a drive through trees, in some places so narrow we wondered if our car would fit through.  The early light was soft, bringing out the greens of the stones (from the eel river, I learned).  There’s something special about a person-made structure that takes advantage of all nature offers.  This piece, Hearthstone, was built to commemorate the efforts of a group of women to save old growth trees in this forest.

In 1900, as the earliest example of a Kickstarter campaign, 65,000 women raised $45,000 to protect a stunning grove of old-growth redwoods. Their grove abuts the Rockefeller Grove, donated by the largess of one very rich man, in Humboldt Redwoods State Park, a bit north of Garberville, about 228 miles north of San Francisco.

These women organized the California Federation of Women’s Clubs. They hired Julia Morgan in 1932 to design and build a central gathering space. She designed an amazing memorial, symbolizing the power of their gift, which she called a “Hearthstone.” It is a 4-sided outdoor fireplace with four witty, poetic medallions above the mantel of each hearth.

The four corner posts supporting the roof are tree trunks, while the center masonry chimney is a human deference to the massive strength of the heroic trees. More than a simple utilitarian fireplace for cooking or heating, the folded roof converts the monument into an elegant weather-protected shelter, symbolic of a humble abode in the forest, crafted with elegant joinery of wood beams and posts, celebrating this special Eden. (http://levinearch.com/redwood-grove-shelter-by-julia-morgan/)

Here’s my photo of this beautiful structure.


And in the same space  where Julie Morgan designed a person-made structure, I found nature-made structures that inspired awe with their beauty.  I feel like I am learning about the beauty that exists in death this summer.  The redwood forest is a complex ecosystem that depends on both life and death for the health of the forest.  I watched new life grow out of decaying trunks, enriched by what was there before.  The timing was poignant as my mother-in-law died Monday morning, the forest reminded us that death continues to offer us bounty and beauty.  I was overwhelmed by the beauty of this upturned tree, nature’s art composed from the death of the tree.


And then there is new life, springing up.  It is surprising to find the delicate flowers and lacy ferns thriving beneath the tall giants.  I love when nature creates her own still life, leaving it there for me to find and capture through my lens.


From the redwoods we wandered to the beach, stopping first to explore the small town of Ferndale, CA.  The temperature dropped as we headed near the coast, making me glad I had packed some jackets.  We entered Ferndale by crossing a historic bridge over a river to enter a valley with farms dotting the landscape.  Cows were plentiful as well as barns as we drove into this Victorian village that felt like going back in time.  Our wanderings took us down narrow lanes, where we stopped off to snap a glimpse of the farming life.  (Hay bales like this will forever remind me of my cousins and spending summers in Castle Rock, WA where we rode along on the trucks as my uncles picked up and stacked the bales–something far removed from my San Diego life.)


Beaches in northern CA are nothing like beaches here.  First, the weather is cold–highs into the low and mid 60s in late July!  There are lots of sand dunes and breathtaking cliffs.  This cliff near Trinidad, CA also featured wildflowers, a treat after a harrowing and twisty turny trip down a bumpy and often one-laned road to access it.  You can see the thick fog in the distance…there was no sunset on this evening as we drove back into the fog bank to find our lodging.


We set our hopes low on the coastal journey the next day, knowing that the sunshine could be elusive.  But we were treated to a sunny day that brings out the brilliance of the blue of the sky and the sea.  It was fun to have this seagull fly right into my frame as I took this photo overlooking Glass Beach in Fort Bragg.


Further down the coast we stopped off to hike out to this lighthouse.  We could hear the sea lions vocalizing in the distance (even though we couldn’t see them) as we walked toward the point where the lighthouse sits.  You can see the light in the distance as this lighthouse continues to warn ships that land is near.


The long stretch of highway home seems to go on forever.  There’s lots of time to think and talk and to pay attention to unusual points of interest.  I have pictures of tomato trucks, log trucks, cows and more.  A collection of working oil derricks caught my attention as we crossed the central valley from Salinas to intersect highway 5.  And then I noticed this corridor of electrical towers that seems almost like a fancy entrance to southern CA.


So, enjoy some flanerie this week.  Head out and wander aimlessly.  Wander and wonder and write…and take some photos too.  What will you learn about yourself as you explore without a predetermined goal?

You can post your photo alone or along with some words: commentary, a story, a poem…maybe even a song! I love to study the photographs that others’ take and think about how I can use a technique, an angle, or their inspiration to try something new in my own photography. (I love a great mentor text…or mentor photo, in this case!) I share my photography and writing on social media. You can find me on Instagram and Twitter using @kd0602. If you share your photos and writing on social media too, please let me know so I can follow and see what you are doing. To help our Weekly Photo community find each other, use the hashtag #flanerie for this week and include @nwpianthology in your post.

Grab your camera and experiment with flanerie this week.  Wander and wonder, write some poetry or just doodle a bit (doodling is the focus of clmooc this week!). Be sure to share what you learn with the rest of us!