Tag Archives: photography

13 Ways: SOL25 Day 27

“What is it that you feel you have the need to have 13 ways of looking at?” That was the question posed by Poetry Unbound’s Padraig O’Tuama in a recent post. A question that got me thinking this morning…and also had me rereading Wallace Stevens’ Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird. My mind went to the beach–a place I spend lots of time for lots of different reasons.

Thirteen Ways of Knowing the Beach

I match my breath with the ins and outs of the waves. Salty water molecules swirl around me, seasoning my skin. I fall into perfect sinus rhythm.

Seagulls shout. Bossy voices command attention as they probe the shore for handouts and scout out their next heist. Don’t turn your back on the sea or the seagull.

III

Curled toes, deep in the wet and squishy sand. Ankle deep, knee deep, splash! Cool or downright cold. Goosebumps form and squeals of childhood echo. A time machine.

Sun’s out, skin’s out. Memories of baby oil and sunburn mix with realities of skin damage, SPF, and UV index. Trickster sun makes its mark even when hiding behind the clouds.

Wind whips and whirls sending sand in sinuous swirls. Waves in white caps wash, breaking barriers, reclaiming all within reach.

Cliffs crumble uncovering geologic stories in layer upon layer, shells on mountain tops where lands rose and sea retreated. History in sediment, conglomerate, sandstone until time, pressure, and heat works its metamorphic magic. Change is constant.

VII

Ospreys hunt, eagle of the sea. Fishing claws grabbing dinner from the deep, no poles or lines. Transported by talons for treetop dining. A creature of sea and sky.

VIII

Squadrons of pelicans in perfect Vs oversee hoards of beachgoers. Gliding on gusts, flapping in formation, surfing the swells, their bellies nearly touching the waves when they rise. Pause and dive. Pouch first approach to prey retrieval. Dramatic drops for seaside lunch.

Artists with rakes trace circles, designs larger than life with perfect symmetry, perfect Pi. Fleeting beauty etched in the sand, hangs in the gallery of your mind’s eye.

Tide pools hold secret worlds that live in the in-between. Sometimes completely covered, other times exposed. Life teems under the kelp, sea grass, algae. Sea stars creep on tube-feet, nudibranchs with psychedelic seventies colors strike a pose, pudgy squirting sea cucumbers move only at the sea’s whim. Hermit crabs seek new homes, dwellings abandoned by their former residents.

Snowy egrets with their bright yellow socks stomp the pools at low tide. Lunch counter is open. Neck with an S-curve, stretched out or curled in, dancers in fluid motion.

XII

Beach combing, treasure hunting, shore sweeping. Colored glass roughed and smoothed by the sea, bits and pieces of green, white, amber, sometimes even blue. Sea diamonds. Picking up plastics, multiplying by mitosis, never ending source of damage, destruction. Pollution of our precious life source.

XIII

My playground, location of endless possibility. I walk on water, I walk on clouds. My ears fill with the soothing sounds of whispering waves. I can taste the salt on my lips and feel the release as stress runs down my shoulders and swims out to sea. My heart matches the rhythm of my breath, the rhythm of the sea.

Math Walking: SOL25 Day 26

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There’s nothing I like better than extending the walls of the classroom and taking learning out into the world…or at least outdoors around our campus.

And you might know, I love to take photos. I like to share my passions with my students, so I also teach my students to take photos. What could be better than combining going outside with math and photography?

We headed outside yesterday morning in search of odd. My students have learned about odd and even numbers and are getting pretty good at feeling confident that they know which is which (even as numbers get quite large). I set a few parameters for them:

They had to take 5 photos–and only 5 photos (using their iPads)
They had to find examples of different odd numbers
They were to use a photography technique they had learned
There could be no humans in their photos
They were not allowed to move things to get to “odd”
They could not take a photo of 1
They could only venture as far as where they could see me and I could see them

At that point, the fun began. At our first stop on the playground, most students were immediately drawn to our wall ball courts and saw 3 right away. Many of them aimed their lens and took photo number one.

But then they started to notice other numbers. Some students found large numbers (by counting windows), some found interesting images. There was quite a variety.

I listened as they negotiated with each other about the number they saw. Some realized they had miscounted, others clarified their understanding of odd and even through conversation with a classmate. They looked up, knelt low, got close, and angled out from afar.

We returned to the classroom and examined our work. Each student picked a favorite photo to share–we are in the process of putting together a display of odd for our classroom wall.

I’m already thinking about our next math walk. Maybe we’ll focus on triangle…

Into the Light: SOL25 Day 24

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I sneak a peek at the news and the darkness spreads over me. It feels like a shadow, blocking out the sunlight and warmth I crave. Just when I think it can’t possibly get any worse, it does. How do I both stay informed and sane at the same time?

The sun was shining when I got to school this morning. I headed into my classroom and immediately got to work organizing materials for teaching. I looked up and saw my colleague pass by…and ran out after her to give her something.

That’s when the light caught my eye. The soft warmth of morning light caressed the yellow wildflowers that are a part of our landscaping. I couldn’t resist leaning in for a photo to try to capture that moment to carry with me throughout the day.

The light, my friend and her bright morning optimism, golden flowers aglow, and the warmth of the sun on my shoulders came together to create the perfect conditions to start my week.

Here’s to keeping the glow…or at least returning to the photo to remind myself not to dwell in the shadows.

What keeps your spirits up when things start to feel heavy?

I Love…: SOL25 Day 17

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It’s Monday and it’s St. Patrick’s Day and I teach 6 and 7 year olds and I’m wearing my pesto-green vans and completed 8 parent conferences today before 3pm.

Like most days I come home knowing I have a blog post to write and still have absolutely no idea what I will write about. And then, in the few minutes I had to check my ever-multiplying email inbox (that tripled–at least–in volume while I taught and conferenced today), I came across a wonderful recommendation from a colleague. My fellow writing project directors share their newsletters — so inspiration can find me with just a click.

She shared a blog post in her newsletter called A List of Things I Love, a wonderful rambling poetic meander through time and the little so-called ordinary things that make life extraordinary. I knew it was special when it began with the 2-word sentence: I love. (Do you hear the strike of inspiration hitting?) I could do that! Although I have no illusions of mine list matching the breadth and whimsy. But here’s an early draft that I hope to come back to later.

I love. I love a Monday afternoon when I come into the house and the smell of freshly baked chocolate chip cooks wraps me in a warm and chocolaty hug after teaching and complicated and rewarding conversations with eight families. I love a blue-sky day after a week of rain, when my jacket hangs on the back of my chair and the sun feels warm when I walk outside. I love tulips in a vase, a whisper of spring color and a reminder of the beauty of daring to blossom, even knowing that these cut flowers will soon droop, dancing as they drop their petals.

I love the beach in all seasons, but especially when the tide is low and the beach is wide. I love the egrets and the pelicans and the tiny sandpipers that move in unison with the breath of the sea. I love the treasure hunt of the tidepool and the excitement when orange sea stars appear…a constellation of wonder and hope. I love learning about nudibranchs and finally seeing one in all its colorful glory in its home habitat.

I love books that invite a deep dive and force you underwater in the silence of words, immersing you in an experience so real that laughter and tears are necessary expressions of a heart touched. I love songs that curl into the corners of my ears, bringing long lost memories forward for remembering again and again.

I love when writing pushes time away making room for ideas to explore and expand as fingers and neurons intertwine. I love the mystery of a readers’ response, will my loves resonate and spark ideas and loves in another. What loves emerge for you?

Strike a Pose: SOL25 Day 16

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After a rainy week, the weekend was a burst of sunshine! While the temps are still cool, the weather was glorious. There is just something about sunshine that brightens up my mood.

As is typical, we planned our weekend walks around the low tide so we have an ample walking beach. The tides were not particularly low this weekend, and because of the storms earlier in the week, the surf was still in a turmoil.

Teenagers in our area see the appearance of sunshine as an invitation to practice for summer. They arrive at the beach in their bikinis and trunks, play games on the shore, (that smashball game is still quite popular–you know, the one where a group surrounds a mini trampoline like thing, hitting the ball onto it trying to get the next person to miss), and even plunging into the chilly Pacific Ocean. (The water temperature has been hovering around 57 degrees lately…brrr!)

In my jeans and jacket with my camera around the neck, I headed out to walk a few miles and take some photos. I did shed my jacket mid-walk, enjoying the warm sun and cool sea breeze as I opened up to photo possibilities. The challenge at this point is that I have taken probably thousands of photos at the beach. I photograph the surf, the sky, the people, the birds, any sea life, sea shells, rocks–the list goes on. So it’s hard to find something new for the subject of my photo. So instead, I look for a new angle, different lighting…even a new story to tell myself.

I’ve noticed the pelican overhead the last couple of days. They seem to be practicing flying in formation, perfecting their Vs as they glide along the coastline. Today there were also some shorebirds hanging out in groups, searching for snacks as they chased the foam along the edge of the shore. I watched some young girls also chasing the foam…and now and then they would eye the birds and lunge toward them, making them fly up in a group and then settle further along the shore.

And I got lucky enough to move in with my camera just as one of the birds took a moment to strike a pose for me. And voila! A jaunty little bird portrait was the result. I love the tilt of the neck, almost looking over its shoulder at me.

How did you spend your weekend?

Touristing in Town–a Photo Essay: SOL25 Day 8

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When you live in America’s Finest City, sometimes you need to spend some time re-seeing your place with fresh eyes. Today, since we were meeting a friend for lunch downtown, we decided to make a day of it and headed off to Cabrillo National Monument. Located way up a hill, off the tip of Point Loma, this jewel offers breathtaking views on a clear day. And today we got just that.

After much needed rain earlier this week, this morning came in bright and clear…with the promise of sunshine and hints of spring. After parking, we headed to use the restrooms…and caught a glimpse of a large military ship passing out of the harbor. North Island Military Base is right across the bay on Coronado. Docents pointed out features of the ship as it passed by on its way out to sea.

We headed off to a favorite hiking trail that wanders along the bay. Native plants are just beginning to bud, lizards basked in the pools of sun along the trail, and we could hear the “orts” of the sea lions in the distance.

It wasn’t long before sailboats seemed to come out of nowhere, dancing along the surface of cerulean blue water. Military jets roared overhead as they rose into the sky and red shouldered hawks seemed to float effortlessly in midair.

The second half of the hike is all uphill, adding breathiness to our conversation as our hearts pounded in rhythm with our feet. We added an extra loop around the historic Point Loma Lighthouse and headed out to the overlook on the ocean side of the area.

This place is perfect for watching for gray whales as they migrate–although we have passed the end of the migration season. Looking down you can see the kelp beds and tide pools below, a reminder of another hike for another day.

What a perfect beginning to a very full day! After leaving Cabrillo we managed to get stuck in a protest parade (supportive of the cause–didn’t love the traffic jam), had a lovely lunch with an out-of-town friend that I haven’t seen for a while, pulled over on the freeway onramp while an ambulance sped by slowing traffic to a crawl (again), made our way to IKEA (because–why not if you’re within 10 miles or so) and then headed off to drop homemade sticky buns to my mom and sister before heading home in the dark.

The day was long and so satisfying. A perfect way to spend the day in America’s Finest City!

Quirky Birds: SOL25 Day 7

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For the first time in my teaching career, this year we have been allotted two days (we get a sub to cover our class) to write report cards. We do write report cards three times a year, but two days is better than none since report card writing always falls to “do it at home in the evening or weekends” time. So today was a report card writing time for me since parent-teacher conferences begin soon.

As I was writing report card comments, I found myself thinking about the joy of quirky kids. You know, the one who has a million questions even after I have carefully explained what we are doing. Or the student who can’t resist singing in full voice while everyone else is quietly working. There’s the student who wears the chunky gold chain–an aspiring rapper? Or the one with the cat ear headband (when did those become so popular?).

I think I may be drawn to the quirky birds. I know when I am walking on the beach, I notice the birds that stand out in some way. It might be that shore bird that hops along on one leg with the other tucked up tight against its body. Or the osprey that swoops down and then rises up with a fish firmly clutched in its tremendous talons. But more than likely it’s a snowy egret.

I love snowy egrets. There’s something about these tallish birds with long graceful necks and long beaks…and wait for it…bright yellow feet–that always make me smile.

Just last week I saw this character.

And fell in love!

That wind ruffled hair…and that foot! A bright yellow foot in action. Snowy egrets use those quirky feet of theirs to stomp around and stir up fish and shrimp and other seafood delicacies from the tide pools. I’ve learned to creep up quietly with my camera in hand to take photos of these beautiful and often quirky birds. I love to capture them in action…somehow freezing the movement into a still that still shows their liveliness.

So here’s to quirky birds and quirky kids…celebrating all the differences that make life lively and interesting.

How to Take a Photograph: SOL25 Day 2

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Have you read Kwame Alexander’s picture books? I love How to Write a Poem and use it with my first graders to help them understand metaphor and metaphorical thinking. Last week I read How to Sing a Song first to remind my students about metaphor and its power in writing and then again a few days later to use a mentor text.

I had taught my students some photography techniques (bird’s eye view, bug’s eye view, and rule of thirds) and then we all headed out to our fairy garden (as they kids call it–adults know it as the pollinator garden) and the playground to try out the techniques. Once back in the classroom, each student picked a favorite photo and studied it carefully.

That’s when that second reading of How to Sing a Song came in. We looked at the text carefully, noticing how the writing was working to describe music. Then came the challenge. Students (yes, first graders) set out to write a How to Take a Photograph version of these books we love. I also suggested that my students consider using their senses to help them come up with their metaphors.

Here are just a few of my students’ works in progress:

First, make a target then decide if you like or not, then take a deep sniff of the blazing violet flowers.

The snap of my iPad is like thunder in the forest, the sound of birds chirping as if they are instruments.

The wispy chews on the leaves look like they got beaten up by a caterpillar. It sounds like the green leaves are talking to me.

I took this photo on our playground.

And alongside my students I wrote this draft with them as my audience:

How to Take a Photograph

Step out. Breathe in everything you see like a cool breeze. Zoom in close like a magnifying glass. Tilt and find the perfect diagonal where the palm tree overlaps with the climbing structure. Taste the cool of the silvery metal and frame it in the lower third. Listen with your eyes and hear the sounds of children playing, hanging from the braided ropes. Push the button….slowly, carefully, purposefully. Your photo will sing for others to hear and sing along.

If you haven’t had a chance to read these books (there’s another called How to Read a Book), I highly recommend them–even if you don’t have a class of children to read them to! What are your favorite picture books that every adult should know?

Writing a Hope Kit: SOL25 Day 1

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This week has been packed to the gills, overflowing with meetings, a flight to SFO on Wednesday (after leaving a meeting early) for a conference on Thursday, another flight home late Thursday for a full day of teaching on Friday and then capped this morning with the 17th annual San Diego Area Writing Project (SDAWP) Spring Conference.

As you might imagine, I was not excited that I needed to be up early this morning and on the road before 7am to be present at the university, helping with set up and preparation. Today’s hiccup was catering not showing up! (What! No coffee for teachers who are up early navigating UCSD parking for our half-day conference?). After several calls we were assured that coffee and pastries would arrive–not when expected, but before it would have been too late.

And as always happens when I am in the presence of writing project teachers, I forgot how much I didn’t want to get up, how much I would have loved a morning with a leisurely start, and was immediately engaged and stimulated by presentations and conversations…and just seeing colleagues who are brilliant and caring and always looking after what is best for their students.

Sessions like Writing for Change: Empowering Student Advocacy Through Project-Based Learning, Academic Writing with Heart: Centering Student Voice, and Hope Starter Kit: Writing Our Way to Resilience (to name only a few) offered inspiration, intellectual stimulation, ideas for classroom implementation, and an opportunity for writing. It also offered an escape from all that feels wrong right now.

As part of my hope kit writing, I had to figure out who (someone real or imagined, still living or long dead) to address a problem I was grappling with–the idea that each of us could tap our inner wisdom through this letter writing/response (inspired by the book Ask Baba Yaga: Otherworldly Advice for Everyday Troubles by Taisia Kitaiskaia). I decided that I would channel my cat, Phil, who died quite a few years ago, but who my husband is convinced still hangs around the house. Here’s my letter and response:

Dear Phil,

How do I manage the guilt of not doing enough to take action in light of all of the chaos and destruction in our current government?

Distraught Citizen

Dear Distraught Citizen,

Screech and roar and scratch…and even pretend to mark the walls and furniture with the scent of your body and beliefs in your spaces. Don’t let your perceived inaction silence you. Rub your scent subtly, weaving in and out of the pant legs of those who are near. Find pockets of comfort, places where the rumble of your inner motor can vibrate, offering moments of relief and contentment for you and others as well. In addition to comforting one another, find the small cracks for action, even if they seem to be big enough for only the tiniest grains of sand.

Phil

Channeling Phil reminds me (and maybe you too) that action can manifest in many different ways. I will keep seeking out all the small spaces where I can make a difference. You likely won’t find me on the picket line or the telephone bank, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care or won’t take actions to right the wrongs that are happening. Thanks to my colleague Stacey for the inspiration and to Phil for the advice.

Seastar Luck

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I woke up on this first day of 2025 to a blog post written by my friend Molly. She talked about the ways she invokes luck and good fortune at the beginning of a new month–and a new year. She woke this morning saying, “rabbit, rabbit, rabbit,” a sure sign of good things to come (and heard her husband muttering it even before she was fully conscious). And then she talked about paying attention to the first bird, and essentially “reading” it to determine what qualities it might portend for the new year.

I didn’t wake up with the word rabbit on my mind, and the idea of birds flew out of my brain well before rising from my cozy bed this morning. Our plans for the day were to meet family at the beach around noon–when things began to warm up a bit. Only it really didn’t. Our short drive from home to the beach took us from the sunshine into a thick coating of coastal overcast–and it was downright cold! (At least by SoCal standards)

After a couple of vigorous games of beach paddleball, 8 year olds chasing waves in puffer jackets, swim trunks, and bare feet (typical winter beach attire), a tidepool mishap that resulted in a painful scrape and tears…and an early exit from the beach, we were left to our own devices. So we headed out to lunch where we discussed our need to still fit a walk into our day. We had resigned ourselves to walking our neighborhood until Geoff suggested heading back to the beach–one a couple of miles north of where we were earlier–to do our walking.

The tide was heading toward low–and a good negative tide that would leave tidepools uncovered–my favorite condition for walking. The sun began to peek out as it headed down closer to the horizon. The best tidepools are about a mile from the parking lot where we parked (you can get there from a closer lot–but we needed the walk). Loads of people were out at the beach today–maybe for their own New Year’s traditions.

I walked out onto the reef, noticing the usual sea anemones and tiny crabs. My attention was drawn by a conversation overheard about an octopus, and I headed in that direction. I noticed a tween girl with a large seastar in her hand–and also noticed several other smaller seastars in the pool where she was standing. I frequently look for seastars in the tidepools and seldom find any, so this felt special. The young girl was quite enthusiastic and encouraged me to take a photo of the seastar in her hand. Of course I obliged and took a number of photos of those gorgeous orange echinoderms.

As I observed the seastars and took my photos, I couldn’t help thinking about the good fortune of seeing this elusive creature on the first day of the year. Google offers that seastars represent a striving for peace and harmony and the ability to accomplish great things when you set your mind to it. For me, seastars embody flexibility and the superpower that allows them to regenerate when faced with hardship–a certain kind of resilience. All of these seem like qualities our world needs right now.

And to add frosting to the cake, as I walked away from the seastars (the the young girl carefully settled them back into their tidepool habitat), I noticed a couple peering closely under the ledge nearby. He was shining a flashlight, pointing out where a small octopus was hunkered down. I moved closer and he shined the light again so I could see–and to be honest, I wasn’t seeing anything. So I asked, “What am I looking for to see the octopus?” He then pointed out the eye and the way the octopus was wrapped around the ledge. Then I could see that expertly camouflaged creature–even if it wasn’t in a position to be photographed! Sometimes you just have to look with your eyes and snap that memory into your mind–and maybe blog about it to remember it again later!

I’m holding that seastar in my mind and heart as a symbol of good luck on this first day of 2025 and reminding myself of the power of wonder and curiosity…and playfulness. Let’s push back against darkness and strive for peace, empathy, and care as we continue to move through this new year.