Scratcher of heads, rubber of bellies
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
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.
📷: Canon 7D II | Sigma 17-50mm f/2.8
🗓️: June 4, 2016
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.)
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.
I wouldn’t worry about it Samwise, I’m sure it will be fine. Probably clear up on its own.
After spending so much time photographing shore crabs in a tide pool at Lagoon Creek in Redwood National Park, it amused me to find a crab made of rockweed on the way back to the trail. It amused me further when reviewing the pictures after I got home, after not noticing while on the beach that one of the real crabs was missing one of its large front claws, that I hadn’t noticed this false crab was also missing a front claw.
A lovely case of life imitating life.
Ellie and I start our walks by heading to the nearby dog park, passing one of her greatest admirers on the way, sweet little Yum Yum. As a young pup she’d pretend she had to go to the bathroom so she would get let out and could come running to say hello as we passed. These days we often see her up on her porch, tail wagging furiously, a gate blocking her escape. She must know the jingle of Ellie’s dog tags as she walks as Yum comes out to greet us whenever we approach. If she’s out in the yard I’ll walk Ellie over to see her before crossing the street, she’s always so excited to see us.
Yet for all that Ellie has perhaps an even bigger admirer that lives nearby, a young dog named Noki that gets overjoyed whenever he sees Ellie and can’t stop licking her in the face. Apparently he doesn’t do it to other dogs and we’re not sure what it is about Ellie that delights him so. One time we met him out walking instead of in the dog park, he was in a harness but he was straining so hard to come and meet us that he busted the snaps on his restraints and broke free.
She has other young admirers but none quite so worshipful as these two. She has human fans as well, she’s an easy dog to love, someone came up to us in the dog park recently and commented on how much she loved the relationship I have with her. She’s been with us for over seven years now so our bond is pretty strong. A few days later while we were out in the neighborhood someone came up and said how happy it makes him every time he sees us.
I try to spend the time on our walks in the moment with her, to forget all the pressures and stresses of the regular world and find joy in our time together. I love the quick little glances she gives me from time to time, I know she’s just checking in to see if it’s OK if she lingers a little longer near an interesting smell or if we can head down the next street, but it feels like she’s saying “thanks for being my buddy”. Her face is more gray than black these days but she remains, as always, my great delight.
First Picture:
📷: Canon M | Canon 22mm
🗓️: September 10, 2015
Portland is known as the City of Roses and decades ago a prior owner planted a bunch of roses in our backyard. I’ve always been a bit torn as to whether or not I should keep them. I’m not a huge fan of roses themselves, although we have one variety in particular that I think creates a lovely flower. Some of them aren’t doing so well, but even those that are thriving often get leaves covered in black spots, a consequence of a fungus that thrives in our climate. There’s a natural pesticide that can keep it under control but when possible I prefer to not use pesticides.
My favorite thing about the roses is the katydids that sometimes live there in the summer, in July we had a handful in one spot, from fairly young nymphs to an adult. The nymphs go through several stages, this female is easily recognizable as a katydid but she is only starting to grow her wings. When full grown they’ll stretch down the length of her body (as you can see on this adult female from last year). When I see one on a bush, I leave nearby spent flowers a little longer than normal so that my friends will have plenty to eat.
Boolie 