Boolie

The Windswept Prairie

When it became clear we were going to get a little bit of snow a week and a half ago, I took the day off work so I could take Ellie out to enjoy it. Normally on weekdays my wife walks her in the morning and I walk her in the evenings, but since I was home I took her on a long walk in the morning and then, when it started snowing, for another walk in the afternoon. I was hoping for large lazy flakes but instead we got a driving wind and biting snow. When we got to Irving Park, the wind had swept the sports fields mostly clear of snow, so I was relieved when we got up to the dog park that not all the snow had blown away.

I didn’t try for many pictures as the wind was blowing the snow almost horizontally and Ellie squinted to keep the small pellets from hitting her eyes. We continued on through the neighborhood where the trees and houses provided relief from the wind and she was delighted, giving me another long walk of an hour and a half after a similar walk in the morning (those are the longest she’s gone in her elderly years). She doesn’t normally do two long walks a day and was a little stiff-legged afterwards so in the evening I took her on a very short one just to make sure she could go to the bathroom if she needed to, besides which the ice was already starting to form, immediately eroding any desire on her part to walk further.

When we got back from the afternoon walk, I toweled off the melting snow and we climbed up into my love seat. She put her head in my lap as she sometimes does, hoping to extend our time together as much as possible before sleep separated us. Her fur was glistening from the melted snow and I wished I could get stuck in that moment for a little while, my sweet pup saying thank you for our day together, hoping to make it last.

She fell asleep almost immediately though, and soon all three cats joined her both in snuggling and in sleeping on me, and all was bliss except I found myself wishing I had thought to make some hot chocolate before the pets climbed all over me.

The Glowing Moss

This heavy moss on a redwood tree was almost glowing in the diffuse sunlight. At some point someone or something had brushed against the tree, knocking a chunk of moss from the bark, but time heals all wounds and the moss will one day reclaim the open space.

A Song of Ice and Fur

I took Thursday off since there was a chance of snow and I wanted to let our aging pup enjoy some snow time. The temperature was supposed to rise in the evening so the snow wouldn’t last and I had to seize the moment. I was hoping for big softly falling flakes but there was a strong wind that made pictures difficult, so mostly we just walked around the neighborhood. I did get a few pictures in the dog park, such as this close-up of snow on the black fur of her back.

Thankfully she went on a really long walk in the afternoon snow after a really long walk in the morning, as the evening didn’t warm as expected and instead we got freezing rain. Ellie despises ice as much as she loves snow and refuses to go for even a short walk when it’s icy. At her age I wouldn’t have risked it anyway and I just made a path for her in the backyard, but it did amuse me for the next couple of days while the ice lasted, when I let her out to go to the bathroom, she quickly did her business and then made a beeline back to the door, just in case I was under the delusion I might get her out for a walk.

“Sometimes I Wish My Sister Didn’t Love Me Quite So Much”

But she does Boo, she does.

Boo had been sleeping on my legs when Trixie curled up beside him, inching her head closer and closer to his, waiting to see if he would object with each advance. When she reached her goal of having her head completely on top of his, he opened his eyes briefly but to her great delight he let her stay, and they both soon fell asleep.

The Fading Light

Feels like dark days ahead as we give in to the gospel of fear. This can be a hard country to love, but there is much that is good, there are many worth fighting for. Here’s to brighter days, to hope, to love.

📷: Canon 7D II | Sigma 17-50mm f/2.8
🗓️: October 29, 2016

Reverence

Upper Horsetail Falls in the Columbia River Gorge may be my favorite waterfall, a place of worship in an area rich with wonders. I was delighted as I looked back to the falls to see a kindred spirit had stopped for a moment of reverence, his hands together as if in prayer, before resuming his hike. The exposure took half a second so thankfully he stayed perfectly still.

Strength

Resistance

📷: Canon 7D II | Sigma 17-50mm f/2.8
🗓️: June 4, 2016

Three Things

Back in 2000, Canon launched their first consumer digital SLR, the $3000 three megapixel D30. At the time I had a low-end film SLR and was looking to upgrade and was torn between getting the D30 or a much more advanced film SLR for a lot less money. While researching the D30 I found a website by an accomplished photographer named Michael Reichmann, Luminous Landscape, and his review nudged me to the D30.

While Michael and I photographed different types of things (and he was a vastly better photographer), I loved his approach to reviewing camera gear. He had a rare blend of talent, enthusiasm, experience, wisdom, helpfulness, generosity, charisma, and humility that made him my favorite reviewer. He evaluated gear based on how much enjoyed using it and how it helped (or hindered) his ability to get the shots that meant the most to him. He had an infectious love of photography and never lost sight of the big picture, that photography can be personal and meaningful and rewarding and emotional. And fun.

He died earlier this year from cancer and though I didn’t know him, I miss him.

I owe him a great deal for helping me settle on the D30. The camera had plenty of flaws but its strengths were even greater. I liked film, I loved digital. Less than half a year we adopted an adorable little kitten we named Scout. I’d give so much to be able to snuggle for even 15 minutes with Scout, who died a few years ago, and in a way the pictures help me do that. Here she’s a young kitten playing beside my wife. It’s funny that it’s almost hard for me to remember her being this young. On the one hand I remember clearly bringing her home for the first time, but it’s the adult Scout who always wanted to be curled up on or beside me that is so strongly imprinted on my memory.

Life is filled with ups and downs, something I’ve been reflecting on a lot tonight, so let me acknowledge some things that had such a positive impact on me in 2000 and 2001, and for years after. Michael, Scout, that first digital camera. Gone now, not forgotten, always loved.

(I do still have the D30 sitting around somewhere, but allow me the poetic license.)

“I Can’t Look Away”

Boo and I wondered the same thing: would this end badly?

I had kneeled to photograph Boo sitting in the broken Boo Box when Trixie jumped onto my shoulders and wrapped her legs around my head and began playing in my hair. I could feel the gentle pressure of the claws on all four feet, it didn’t hurt but if she got more rambunctious I was going to get scratched to pieces. I was afraid she’d dig in if I tried to remove her, so I kept taking pictures of Boo while she played.

Thankfully she had her fun without harm and when she jumped down I was tickled to see that with the camera at his level I had gotten a picture of a wide-eyed Boo watching her on top of my head.