Tag Archives: postaday

Rainforest Serenity

Where I live it seldom rains…and when it does, it creates all kinds of havoc because we are not equipped to deal with it. And our environment reflects the lack of water, with plants that take the least water–cacti, succulents, sages and other brushes–thriving, while others only survive because we take the time (and expense) to water them.

Today we snuck away for the long weekend to a place known for rain–and specifically headed off to explore the temperate rain forests of the Olympic Peninsula in the Olympic National Park. We knew that rain was likely for the entire weekend, and still headed off to spend time outside in this environment so different from the one we are used to.

Somehow, we managed to avoid rain today, but had plenty of evidence of its presence. As we walked among the giant evergreen trees (spruce, cedar, and firs) I could feel the calm settle over me. Out in the cool, damp air among the towering trees, the sun had to work to reach the ground. The serenity was tangible, but seems difficult to put into words.

I started to notice the water droplets hanging from tree branches as I brushed against them and caused my own little rain storm. And then I became fascinated with the jewel-like quality of the water, trying to capture it with my camera.

I noticed ferns and mosses and lichens all around me and I started to play with my camera, trying to capture the light as it danced and played hide and seek in the forest.

And I started wondering about mushrooms…why hadn’t I seen any? At about that moment, I came around the corner and noticed this beauty growing on a fallen log.

There were more…and more as I began looking closely. I love this entire colony we found growing on the flat face of this stump.

Geoff caught a picture of me leaning in closely with my camera trying to capture the unique beauty of fungi!

We left the rainforest and headed toward the beach…hoping to catch both the low tide and sunset before darkness pushed us indoors for the night. And you know that I spend plenty of time on the beach…but these wide, wild, untamed beaches are very different from the beaches I frequent. The tide was low and sand seemed endless. Instead of driftwood, drift logs were in evidence! We spent only a short time walking the beach as we took in the sunset.

And as we headed off to a tiny town that would be home for the evening, we made one last stop after sunset, but before darkness had settled. I love this post-sunset glow that shines pink through the silhouettes of trees that frame the ocean beyond.

I didn’t know I was looking for serenity today, but it found me as I explored the beauty of the Pacific Northwest. I can’t wait to see what tomorrow will bring!

New Year, New Eyes

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There’s lots of cliches about the New Year…resolution making, retrospectives on the year that passed, champagne at midnight, polar bear plunges on New Year’s day, and so many more.

And somehow, there is something about a new number for the year that encourages the idea of fresh starts, new habits…and maybe a new way of seeing the world. I got ready for my new year by heading up to our local mountains for a rare…and wonderful snowy day. You might remember last week that I said it never snows where I live. Well, that is still true, it didn’t snow in most of San Diego…but we did get enough snow in the mountains and surrounding foothills to create a winter wonderland.

For someone who seldom sees snow, this was a treat! The world looks entirely different when covered in a layer of white.

Even the familiar…dandelions and native plants take on new dimensions against a snowy backdrop.

And we couldn’t resist the urge to build a snowman…even if it was a miniature version!

I love the way snow creates a quiet space, there is a sense of a hush and opportunity for reflection and introspection.

Maybe that’s what the cows were thinking (although this was later in the day after lots of snow had melted…and at a lower elevation)!

I’m sure I’m not going to be able to depend on snow to give me new eyes to view my life this year. But maybe a ride high above the ground will help…like in these skyfari buckets at the zoo!

But mostly, I know, I will need to stay on the lookout for new ways to see what is most familiar to me. I couldn’t resist this shot of three seagulls as I walked to the parking lot at our local beach…seeing with new eyes in the new year!

What will you see this year as you look with new eyes?

Weekly Photo Challenge: Winter Warmth

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I’ve been looking longingly at all the winter snow photos this last week or so–those gorgeous scenes of glistening whiteness. I can imagine the hush and the magical quality only snow can bring. (I know, there is always a downside…the cold, the shoveling, the need to bundle to go outdoors…)

Winter, in these parts means no snow…ever. Some will quickly contradict me and recount the snowfall of ’68 or the one in ’96. But honestly, a few rogue snowflakes that melt upon contact don’t really count as a snowfall, they were just teasers of what might be…

So, for me, winter comes in distinctive San Diego style. Most Christmases are sunny and reasonably warm. Temperatures in the 60s are usual during the day…it cools off quickly when the sun sets. On the first day of winter, I caught this glimpse of the warmth in a black and white reflection of the sun on the beach at low tide.

And at sunset, a little further up the road, I caught the warmth of the sun behind the pelicans as they soared along the air currents before darkness enveloped this longest night.

And I got a new camera for Christmas, actually my husband and I got it for each other, after years of taking all of my photos with my iPhone. (The two photos above were taken with my iPhone.) So today, we headed out to experiment with this new toy. Of course the beach is one of my favorite places to go for photo inspiration. Because it was high tide, we didn’t get to walk the beach, but I did catch this seagull in flight. I love the brilliant blues of the unedited shot–you can see a glimpse of the warmth of the sun on the wings of the bird.

And playing around as I was climbing back up the wooden stairway access to the beach, I happened to catch my husband in a game of peekaboo as I snapped a shot looking up toward the warmth of the sun through the wooden structure.

Using the macro end of the zoom lens, I took some shots of flowers I found near the beach. I love the way this daisy glows in the warmth of the sun. The play of sun and shadow seems just right with these colors.

And my husband pointed out yesterday that he managed to keep one of the potted poinsettias we bought last year alive all year…and sure enough, there it was, still in the pot in our backyard with its bracts turning red! Poinsettias grow well here–in fact, Encinitas is known for the Ecke Poinsettias that produce the majority of poinsettias that are sold each year. We’re always planning to to plant them in the yard after the holidays…maybe this year, after this success, we will! I grew up not far from here with a large poinsettia plant in our backyard that grew as tall as our garage before my mom hacked them back down each year after the blooming season.

So this week I am borrowing the weekly photo challenge prompt from the Daily Post and inviting folks at the NWP iAnthology and and those who follow my blog to share their images of winter warmth.

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 #warmth for this week and include @nwpianthology in your post.

Where do you find the warmth in the winter? On the glistening of sunshine on snow? The crackling warmth of a roaring fire? Hands cupped around a warm mug of coffee? A hug of a loved one? Go out and snap those images of winter warmth…can’t wait to see the warmth through your lens!

Unexpected Yellow

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After a warm summer that lasted almost all the way to the solstice, temperatures have cooled, we’ve had several rainy days in the last couple of weeks, and the sun is having a hard time making its way through the thick clouds along the coast. So while yellow is expected at the beach in the summertime, it is much harder to find on a gray, almost winter day.

With a nice low tide this afternoon, we couldn’t wait to get to the beach to explore and walk. Since we were north of our usual beach running some holiday errands, we decided to walk at a beach different from our usual place. Near a jetty, this beach is rockier than the one where we usually walk. So we practiced our usual beachwalk pasttimes–taking photos, picking up trash, and searching for sea glass…and what a bonanza we found!

Sadly, there was abundant trash on the beach, especially small pieces of plastic. And there was a bit of yellow…this packet of mustard tucked in the rocks. And as good Litterati, we took the photo, picked up the trash, and disposed of it properly.

With my eyes tuned for yellow, I started to notice yellow all around me. Not bright, summer sunshine yellow, but earthy sandstone yellow. (And if you look closely, you can catch a glimpse of the piece of green sea glass that I picked up too!)

Looking into the distance, you can see the ripply texture of the low-tide reef and its yellow hue.

As I watched the seabirds and listened to the music of the waves crash along the shore, I could feel the stresses of the weeks leading up to my winter break wash away and the muscles in my back and shoulders begin to unknot.

The rhythms of the rocks rolling with the tide added a spring to my step and energized me. I began to notice the colors of the rocks, the browns and greens and yellows…

And as we left, heading off for a few more of those holiday errands, a strip of yellow opened on the horizon just beyond the empty lifeguard tower.

Unexpected and welcome yellow at the beach.

Holiday Twinkle

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My neighborhood is filled with light this time of the year. Icicle lights hang from eves, nets of lights hang on shrubs, and I even noticed some new light sources projecting light on the walls of houses and words onto a garage.

Tonight, with peppermint hot chocolate in hand, we set off for a nighttime walk around the neighborhood to appreciate the twinkle of lights decorating the neighbors’ houses. With only my iPhone as camera, I tried my hand at some night photography. It’s pretty clear that I still have some work to do at improving in this area of photography.

I loved these lanterns hanging from a tree. They seem to be a string of colored lights arranged in chicken wire.

I had fun playing around with this snowman. Using the app Big Lens, I was able to focus on the snowman and blur the background and then use a filter called snow to create a chilling effect! (And trust me, it’s not snowing here!)

Here’s a version without the snow effect.

There are lots of colorful lights hanging from bushes, wrapped around palm trees, and outlining doorways. Some flash, some blink, and some stay lit steadily.

There are elaborate displays…some reminiscent of National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation…and others more serene like this one with two deer in lights.

And as much as I enjoy these twinkling holiday lights, I find myself drawn to nature’s twinkle of sun on water. I am a sucker for a beautiful sunset…and take too many photos of them. This one from earlier this week was particularly beautiful with the clouds hunched along the horizon.

And I love the twinkle of the clouds reflected in the still water of the lagoon after yesterday’s storm. If you look closely you can see a ripple of the breeze along the water.

As we head towards our shortest day, light becomes the focus of holiday celebrations. I notice myself seeking out the light…looking for sunrises and sunsets, holiday light displays and candlelight. There is something both calming and energizing about the light of late fall as we celebrate winter holidays.

What light draws your attention? Where do you find the twinkle of light in your life?

When Conditions Converge

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We aren’t hiking this week. A sprained ankle (not mine) means no long beach walks and no hikes up hillsides. But I was still itching for some photo opportunities…so we set off on an adventure this afternoon.

And without thinking the details through, we headed off toward a rest stop with an ocean view off the 5 past Camp Pendleton. As we passed the last Oceanside exit, we noticed heavy traffic coming back toward the south and realized that turning back around toward home might be more complicated than we had considered. As we pulled off onto the northbound rest area to take a look at the view, we thought we might have to go all the way to San Clemente to turn around and come back.

It’s interesting the way the dryness of the west and the blue of the ocean and the brilliant blue sky converge to create near summer-like conditions at the end of November. I looked up and noticed this seagull sitting on a streetlight with the moon in the background.

As we returned to the freeway, we were prepared for quite a drive ahead. Lucky for us, there was one more offramp just a mile up the road that allowed us to access the southbound freeway.

After creeping back in very slow freeway traffic for the three miles or so back into Oceanside, we took the offramp off toward the harbor in search of the nearby pier. With the short days of fall, the sun way already low in the sky. And in spite of that (or perhaps because of it), the beach was teeming with people. Surfers were thick in the water, families frolicked on the shore, tourists explored, and photographers were posing their subjects with the pier and beach as the perfect backdrop. I headed under the pier, searching for the convergence of sunlight, shadow, pier pilings, and water.

Walking onto the pier we noticed this egret posed on the railing, outlined against the setting sun.

The pelican seemed to be tame, unperturbed by all the amateur photographers and onlookers. At one point, the pelican noticed the small fish the fisherman had pulled up and extended its large wings and took flight…just as I pressed the camera shutter!

I couldn’t believe the numbers of fishermen on the pier. I didn’t notice many fish, but there were fishing poles lined up all along the railing, some spread out and some gathered in small bunches.

As we headed out, the sun was low, washing a warm glow over the pier and palms…a perfect ending to an impromptu photographic adventure. Conditions converged for a wonderful day!

Angular: Teaching and Learning on the Slant

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For the last few days I’ve been in Washington DC attending the National Writing Project Annual Meeting, a conference for those connected with writing projects all over the country. In this space we come together to reconnect, learn together, and envision and re-vision possibilities for both our national network and our local sites. And while I was in this rich, intellectually stimulating space, I found myself thinking about angles, the slant that is essential in the work of learning and teaching.

Tell the truth but tell it slant. Emily Dickinson

The hallmark of writing projects has been their longevity (we’re in our 40th year as an organization), which attests to their ability to adapt to new mandates and contexts in education, their ability to remain responsive to changing needs in the educational community while holding on to their core beliefs, and their ability to innovate as they strive to anticipate upcoming needs and trends and develop more effective and relevant approaches to supporting teachers with the goal of improving the teaching of writing. And even in our own community, what that means and how that looks does not assume that we all agree or even that we all understand our charge in the same ways.

And as I consider my own learning experiences, my observations of others, and continue to think about presenting ideas to my own students and to my writing project colleagues I realize that the straight path is not always the best path. I can’t assume what I have come to understand over a number of years will be clear to others as I explain what I now know. I have to find ways to communicate the truth…but find the slant that gives others access. Sometimes looking straight up or straight ahead actually works to obscure your view and understanding.

As I spent some time at the National Cathedral yesterday, I started to see the embodiment of some of these slants. What I noticed as I walked into the nave…the main body of the cathedral…were the incredible angles.

Columns reached high, curved, and then met in angular points. In that expansive and intricate structure, I could feel the careful study of architectural soundness. I felt reassured that this long-standing building would continue to stand, in spite of some damage from a recent earthquake. And so I’m thinking about the underlying structures that inform work some of us as educators do around the concept of connected learning. How do we make the structures and educational soundness visible? What experience will adult and student learners need to feel the expansiveness?

There is a beautiful infographic that I’ve seen shown over and over again and that I have used myself, but like the beautiful stained glass windows in the cathedral, it requires not only a close look but an understanding of the underlying design, accompanied by some personal experiences related to the concepts to truly begin to make sense of it.

And like the stained glass window, light shining from outside reveals details and intricacies that are not otherwise noticeable. Rubbing emerging ideas and persistent questions against those of my colleagues works like that shining light, revealing nuances and pushing me to rethink and reconsider my own understanding. When I can see my thoughts reflected through the ideas of others, they take new shapes and create new possibilities like these intricate shadows the wrought-iron work reflects on the cathedral walls..

And while that sounds pretty easy and productive, it isn’t always that straightforward. There are more slants and angles to consider. Sometimes the learners and teachers must wander down seemingly endless corridors, making false starts and running into dead ends before finding their way in. But repeated opportunities to try and stumble, reflect and reengage eventually reveal a pathway—maybe not THE pathway—to understanding.

Sometimes you have to crane your neck while your nose is right against the window to catch a glimpse of possibility like I had to as I searched for gargoyles. And sometimes that view might be terrifying, monsters seem to come into view, until you realize you are not alone and there are other meanings to be made of what you are seeing and experiencing.

As I have reflected on my experiences this week, I am reminded of the value in taking a step back, considering other perspectives and the role that resistance (my own and that of others) plays in learning. How do I play the doubting and believing game (Elbow) in productive ways that opens doors rather than closes them? And how do I facilitate processes like these for my students and my colleagues?

I know it’s about the slant, the angular nature of our personal biases and the complexity of learning itself. And just like the straight path isn’t for everyone, I know that there are many slants to consider as we continue to learn ourselves and to support learners in this fast-changing, information-driven, connected world we live in. My trip to the cathedral not only allowed me to explore this beautiful national treasure and take interesting photos, it also helped me think about learning and angles and envision the role I might play in creating entry points and interactions to extend opportunities to consider alternatives to our current educational system. I’m looking forward to exploring the slants…and I’m appreciating the angular.

Minimalist Pleasures

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I love the beach. I love to walk. I love to take pictures.

And a perfectly timed super low tide, summer-like weather (in November!), and the just-right prompt set me off for a meditative adventure (is that an oxymoron?) this afternoon that combined the three.

I’m always surprised by how much the beach changes from week to week…sometimes even day to day. When I arrived today, I noticed right away that the fairly flat beach had been replaced by a large berm, seemingly to protect the permanent lifeguard structure and upper sandy area from the late fall/winter tide patterns. And as I began to walk, the super low tide revealed rocks that have been covered by sand all summer. What was a smooth sandy beach a few weeks ago, is now rocky.

The simple, minimal beauty of rocks and water and sky is profoundly calming and relaxing. I found myself breathing deeply, soaking in the peace.

Walking further, I found I could walk on sandbars that put the open ocean on one side of me and pools and rivers of sea water on the other. I was mesmerized by the reflections of light and the soft ripples as the wind played with the water.

A recent Huffington Post article entitled Why Being Near the Ocean Can Make Your Calmer And More Creative seems to confirm my experiences with the beach.

The monochromatic shades of blue, a minimalist masterpiece of blue sky, blue water, blue shadows…caught my eye as I caught this bird in flight.

As I turned around to head back to my starting place, the sun had moved lower in the sky, painting the landscape with warm light.

Oranges and yellows replaced the blues as the sun painted the sky.

A lone bird, the sun multiplying as it is reflected in the water and a minimalist portrait of solitude emerges.

A perfect, peaceful ending to the work week.

As the Sun Descends

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The days are shorter and finally cooler. The crisp of fall rides the air currents and shoes and socks are beginning to replace weekend flip flops. Rain (finally!) pelted the parched ground overnight and clouds still gather, hunched over the horizon, adding texture to our often cloudless, pure blue skies.

As the sun continued its descent, the seabirds played on the breeze, cruising the currents, darting and dancing with seeming delight at the change in the weather.

Dipping into the sea, the sun takes the day away and lets night in. The smell of bonfires mixes with the briny sea air, the glow of the fires becomes visible as the cloak of darkness wraps the sky.

I pull my sweatshirt hood up, zip to my chin, and snuggle close to my honey. It’s cold…at least by San Diego standards. Finishing its descent, the sun leaves a glow on the horizon and signals time to head home to its watchers. And tonight will also mark our time change, falling back from daylight savings time to standard time. We’ll have short days and long nights to look forward to for the next couple of months. Welcome fall…and daylight’s descent toward winter.

Surfing Madonna 5K

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When I first saw the Daily Post photo prompt for this week–cover art–I felt a bit out of my element. I love taking photos and using them to prompt my thinking and writing, but haven’t really thought about images as covers up to this point. But with cover art in my head, I continued to take photos this weekend.

Saturday was the Surfing Madonna 5K, a local run/walk that would take place on the beach where we walk regularly. With a nice low tide, the 5K would take place right on the sand along the shoreline in the late afternoon. Geoff had signed up to participate in this event some time ago…and although I had to work in the morning, I headed to the beach afterward to connect with Geoff and walk with him.

And of course, I couldn’t just walk. With my phone in hand, I snapped photos as we walked. And when I looked through my images later, this one struck me as a cover photo. I love the way the runner is silhouetted against the surf in full stride, the clouds reflected on the sand, and the light illuminating the waves in the background. This was one of the more serious runners, heading for the finish as we still headed toward the turn-around point.

And we sure weren’t alone on the beach (although this runner looks to be running mostly alone). Here’s a glimpse of the crowd near the start…there are lots of people you can see ahead and even more yet to start behind.

And I’m not sure if the costumes were a nod to Halloween coming up…or just a feature of quirky beach culture. I did snap a photo of these bananas on the beach…

There were also lots of women (and a few men) in tutus…

And many, many more costumes including all forms of super heroes, mermaids, King Tut (in full gold painted face), sharks, squids, crabs…all out running and walking on a beautiful Saturday afternoon. It was a fun way to spend a beautiful Saturday afternoon in October and the proceeds benefit ocean-related education programs in our area. Definitely a win-win!