PERIWINKLE EYE - Images by ML

TINSEL TOWN

2011-12-10T08:36:00.000-08:00

That same icy-blue morning (mentioned in the next blog) created a stunning effect

on spider webs.

This one was surely part of the Web Street of Dreams,

due to the builder's flair for knotting an intricate foyer:

Nature's tinsel

The sun came over the mountain before I left this area,

so this is the same string of web, shimmering differently:

And more, sky-high:

We have white lights strung on the trees in our front yard,

but we sure can't top what the holiday spiders have done!

I have never seen a plain, one-way, hanging web,

but now they are all over the trees, exactly like the most
meticulously-hung tinsel.

And garlands too!

ALL THINGS BRIGHT AND BEAUTIFUL, AND BRRRRR!

2011-12-10T08:11:00.000-08:00

A couple of days ago we had our first heavy frost.

The early morning air was actually blue, and so was I by the time I

got back from my ramble!

Mud puddle art.

Interesting how the tiniest pine needle and twig shard influence the patterns:

Two different focal points of the same scene:

SOLO RAMBLE IN THE WOODS

2011-12-08T21:56:00.000-08:00

A last day of autumn, and it was not raining; it was refreshingly cold, and I had to get outside!

This time I truly did go on a "ramble", with no preconceived idea of where I would go.

I found myself discovering the Tokul Creek area:

But the direction I headed took me past a favorite and familiar stopping place first:

Snoqualmie's old mill pond.

The mountains' reflection was not going to be good because there was a riffle

on the water surface, but I really liked the monotone trees on the opposite shore:

I had to break the "don't center objects" rule for this shot; it was

just so nicely graphic to me:

The woods were dark, illuminated only by the ruffles of the creek.

Plus, the last remaining leaves were giving their all:

I was surprised to find an actual trail:

As daylight faded, I enjoyed the solitude, and the gathering of fog over the trail.

I didn't go any further however, having seen a new sign warning of bear and cougar

in the vicinity.

I was home in time to settle in with this stamp of approval on my outing:

LOW WATER LEVEL/ HIGH EXPECTATIONS

2011-12-08T21:39:00.000-08:00

Pat and I headed up to Rattlesnake Lake - a favorite photo ramble.

We had hoped to find the water down enough to photograph tree stumps with their reflections.

No such luck. Too much water; there wasn't even a "beach" to walk on.

So, before turning around to head back to the car, I

got these tree reflections:

I love how the colors look like abstracts in oil.

and watercolor.

The only other color at the lake:

In my frustrations to come home photo-less,

I grabbed these while they lasted, closer to home:

Variegations in a stand of poplars, with a "me too!; me too!" peak-a-boo maple.

GOING...GOING...GONE

2011-12-08T21:07:00.000-08:00

I'm a little late in posting these colors, which are now completely gone.

However, our autumn was especially long this year, and these leaves looked like this

until just a few days ago; less than two weeks for sure.

I was wishing for cold weather to come, so I took these photos close to home as a

tribute to their staying power, and a hopeful farewell too.

This is a reflection in the pond across the street from our house:

We hardly ever get to see a good sunset from our house.

When it is there, it is usually the fringe edges of a whisper of color that we see.

However, a sunrise like this is not uncommon, seen here

from my computer window:

Here is a good example of the part of a sunset that we see from our front porch, zoomed in .

The clouds show uncertain weather was approaching:

And this is the normal front-yard view with the leaves screaming just before they dropped:

A drive up the road a bit offered this end-of-season picture:

WATERCOLORS

2011-11-05T13:28:00.000-07:00

I also considered titling this post "Upon Further Reflection..." because of the nature of the following photos, and because I said that I had completed posting for the Pass Ramble.

Well, giving further thought, I realize I had forgotten to include

these photos, taken at river's edge.

The sky was blue; the rushing water was clear enough that river-bottom rocks projected copper and gold colors to the water's surface.

By zooming in to the opposite bank, reflected golden leaves, and then nearly-bare young trees become abstracts:

This reflection in a mud puddle at the camp ground is only partly abstract:

END OF THE ROAD

2011-11-01T16:19:00.000-07:00

Leaving Roslyn for the return drive, we had to try one more "side road".

That ended with the option to turn onto a dirt road labeled, "Primitive Road/Caution!"

We found it to be nicely-graded and wide, and so we went to "just around the first corner".

The sun was lowering with a last-strength effort, and golden trees were bright against the dark evergreens.

This is the typical contrast of the northwest. Our forests are thick with fir trees and the deciduous trees are scattered, tucked and hidden by the overpowering dominance of evergreens.

You can't blame them for trying:

On the way back out, we knew we'd be stopping for this barn.

Anyone who knows my love for barns also knows my distaste for tin roofs.

In almost every case, a tin roof invalidates a barn, in my opinion.

However, I loved this shape and the fact that autumn was in the spotlight in the background.

So, I tried different camera settings to capture only the barn's shape, and the pop of colors:

On top of the Pass, we stopped for photos. I turned around and Lo! There was "our mountain"!

Through the fog, there stood Guye Peak where we lived for several years.

Our home was on the flanks, behind the horizontal tree-top line in the picture:

Just about home now, looking up to where we used to pick wild huckleberries

while living at the Pass:

This is not commendable photography, but it is included because it is the perfect natural stamp of approval

to the perfect day.

It was blatant and stunning as I turned down our road,

but had faded by the time I got home and grabbed my camera:

This was the last post for "Over the River and Through the Woods" blog

about day's ramble a week ago. There are 6 previous posts connected
to this one.

THE OLD CAMPGROUND

2011-10-30T21:21:00.000-07:00

There is nothing like the appeal of a walk in the forest, and it is even more enticing when it is "asleep", so-to-speak, settling down for the winter. Fir needles have softened to a plush, aromatic carpet, squirrels and chipmunks grab pinecones with urgency, rivers run fuller from autumn rains, and the air seems more still all around.

We pulled into a campground to get close to the river. Sturdy picnic tables had cloths of fallen leaves in tapestries of gold and red; fire pits were filled with cold ashes. It was all ours!

Just a little bit of orange-red remained at river's edge:

We kept an eye out for bears that might have a hankering for a berry and a cool drink.

(but what would we have done if one came?)

The view upriver:

The literal end of the road is at Salmon LaSac, which is just a wilderness area with many trailheads.

Walking a bit, we came across these old vacant cabins. It was river-rock chimney that caught our attention.

I wonder how many generations have kept the homefires burning here, come summertime?

The view from the front porch:

POSTING THE COLORS

2011-10-30T17:11:00.000-07:00

Here is another chapter in the Over the Pass Ramble.

The higher we went on the mountain road and the later it got in the day, the more fickle the sun became.

Or rather, the clouds with the breeze became more unpredictable.

We spotted bright statements of color across CleElum Lake and would quickly pull off the road

only to be frustrated because clouds suddenly covered the spotlighting source.

What we wanted to "shoot" would look dark and plain.

The bright exclamation points of gold punctuated first the near side, then the far side of the lake, and we couldn't capture either one in time!

Our side of the lake:

The far side:

Then our side:

Then a little bit of both, but not as stunning as we had seen it to be seconds before:

In the northwest we do not have Spanish moss, but "Goat's beard":

We pulled into a remote campground and set up our cameras on the banks of the river,

with the enthusiasm of fishermen. Only we hoped our "catch" would be a moment of sun on the trees:

WEATHERED WOODS

2011-10-29T08:09:00.000-07:00

I could lose all track of time in the back streets of a little old town, if I have my camera.

Pat and I were so alone in Roslyn, we could hardly find a place for a cup of

hot chocolate.

But it was easy to stroll a block or two off of main street to find these treasures.

I love not only the geometry here, but how each board has aged to a different shade:

The same structure:

This is someone's back porch. Hmmmm....

Aged doors never disappoint:

But in all my rambles, I have never seen anything like this, just left outside!

I thought of naming it "Dirty Drawers", but I have too much respect for this charming piece.

I can imagine its use, perhaps behind the counter of an old wood-floored store.

I can also imagine putting it to use in our own home, had I been here when it was first tossed out back; before it got warped and ruined!

A lone window, as actually reflected in aonther window across the street,

so this is taken through glass:

Shades of New England:

This looks like a Hollywood set, but it is just a side street of Roslyn:

After visiting Roslyn, we headed up the mountain road, so there is more to come.

A GOLDEN STAIRCASE

2011-10-28T10:27:00.000-07:00

Just leaving town, Pat and I shrieked at the same time. Oh! This house, or rather these leaves made us stop in our tracks. I parked hurriedly in a bus zone. ( I mean, how busy could the route be, when we had so far seen no one?) The house was on a corner or we never would have been lucky enough to spot it.

We were all over this place like bees on honey, taking our shots while trying not to disturb any leaves.

Now, that was hard, being as they were so crunch-tempting!

And this is the one tree that caused such a scene.

So many more leaves to go!

(On the way back through town a couple of hours later, we saw these leaves

had been raked into piles. Made us wish we had crunched and kicked through them!)

More to come on this ramble.

COLORFUL! HISTORY AND EXTERIORS

2011-10-27T21:57:00.000-07:00

This is the 2nd post for the Autumn Day Ramble with Pat.

Here in Roslyn, we were completely alone as we walked main street.

The buildings are historically original. We loved this one-block-long huge building, but there was no indication of its purpose.

These windows were on the street level:

And these were bordering the length of the building, up under the eves.

I took many different angles of them.

This place looks quite well-suited for a Halloween party:

Yes, Roslyn has a colorful past, including reknown robbers successfully

getting the bank funds and numerous payrolls at gunpoint.

But nature was colorful that day too.

I really like the weathered wood and brick as the background to these leaves:

From happy experiences, I know that walking the alleys and back streets of a little old town can be rewarding.

Who needs curtains?

There was no explanation for this building either, but the door was certainly rich:

A secret entrance?

This was the reddest barn we have ever seen.

It wasn't so garrish when reflected in a mud puddle:

The day was only just beginning. Other posts will follow soon.

OVER THE RIVER AND THROUGH THE WOODS!

2011-10-27T19:22:00.000-07:00

The forecast for this last week was not good, except for Monday, and that was iffy, at least on "our side" of the mountains.

I had to take the chance, feeling there just might be new snow on top, and some bright leaves left, and the possibility of sunshine on the "other" side.

Photo buddy Pat is ever-ready, so she helped me follow my whim.

Our day was perfect in every way imaginable, and some ways we couldn't have imagined!

This stop, below, was on a wide shoulder of the Pass freeway, first looking to the south side:

The sun came and went with the wind in the clouds, highlighting trees here and there.

Then, toward the north side:

Then, we were off the freeway, and on our own to ramble!

We felt like, and so we did: shout "whee!"

Leaves were wheeling all around; the woods had a musky-sweet aroma, and we were in solitude!

One of our destinations was to the little town (population less than 900) of Roslyn.

It is authentically-seasoned, having come to existence as a coal-mining town in the mid-1800s.

It was popularized for awhile in the early 1990s as the location for filming the TV series, "Northern Exposure". It's stage name was Cicely.

Poor Pat was not prepared for the first of my many fast-breaking turn-arounds for the photo op. But she survived, and caught on fast! She pointed to many of her own!

Well, this barn was the first brake-n-turn stop on the outskirts of town.

(Does a town that is 5 blocks long actually have "outskirts"?)

It is hard to tell whether the ancient apple tree was holding up the barn, or visa/versa:

The fun thing about stopping in remote places is to look around for other photo ops in the near vacinity.

These were right across the lane:

I love the wild effect of monotone.

Here came that peek-a-boo sun:

FRUSTRATED PEEPER

2011-10-12T21:59:00.000-07:00

This time every year, D and I take an extended trip to someplace in North America to enjoy our favorite season and see how its glory is manifest in different locales.

We choose to drive back roads; the fewer road markings, the better to "Discover America!"

We stayed home this Autumn, and I got pneumonia.

Today was my 1st day to break free from being a "shut in", and I fled out!

Well, I only went to our post office box - big deal. I decided to take my camera and

pretend that my own little town is backroads "somewhere", as if it were new to me.

So, I rambled and yes, lost track of time practically in my own front yard.

I wonder where this gate originally led; now, it stands alone barely visible in the overgrown forest:

Is this tree "changing" by halves? I will have to check it again later:

Local school administrative center; originally the first school:

It has been raining and windy, so this is what happens to already-changed leaves.

The trees don't get to enjoy showing off their Autumn Fest ball gowns;
scraps of "fabric" are everywhere:

Looking straight up, doing a little peeping:

A charming porch,

And a charming window. Just like what I look for in someone else's village:

Closer to home:

Railroad tressle through the not-yet-changed leaves:

This is un-enhanced green of the underbelly of the RR tressle.

It looks phony!

Natural greens show in the ground cover:

And so does the moss on the bridge and trees, but this is not digitally saturated; it is natural:

I am definitely coming back here to keep tabs on these trees in the background.

If they turn orange, such a better picture this will be!

Here is an alternate route to walking the tracks:

THE GARDEN GATE

2011-10-12T18:19:00.000-07:00

The fresh air was lovely. My town was lovely.

I was getting into the "Visit my Village" ramble!

And I discovered this front gate,

which was too lovely to post just one view.

I had to linger. I hardly took more than 3 steps in any direction to capture

the romantic mood of this enticing entrance.

Secret Garden, anyone?

Summer flowers are dying, but that seems to add to the charm of the weathered gate:

No macro lens, but I wanted to remember the myriad of

clematis seed pods smothering the arch of the gate:

LAST CHANCE RAMBLE

2011-10-09T13:46:00.000-07:00

Recently we had an unexpectedly "open" Saturday, free from a usual weekly committment. Also unexpected was the blue-sky, warm sunny day sandwiched between strings of rainy ones.

It was our only opportunity to drive the "North Cascades Highway" which we had

been hoping to do.

From our place in the west, over Snoqualmie Pass, and other passes, we drove the "loop".

First stop was in the Wenatchee valley apple orchard area.

Local orchards vie for the most eye-catching displays to lure one into the fruit stands:

We preferred to just stop alongside the road to photograph the real thing.

How ancient this one looks:

Methow Valley is along the route; the most eastern part of the "loop".

The little town of Methow may not even have a post office of its own, it is so small, but what does that matter when there are charmers like this:

Winthrop might be the half-way place; it is the only place for a respite.

Because of its location, it is partly a tourist town, but it evolved casually from its genuince historical roots rather than be a contrived destination. Thus, the original buildings are indeed still the real thing.

Winthrop saloon has the distinction of being the oldest remaining one in the state.

The town was established in the mid-1800s, mostly from mining, but today it stays alive from dairy and lumber interests, plus cross-country skiing for tourists in the winter.

Our main goal was to see the magnificent North Cascade Mountains. Washington Pass is north of Winthrop, on the way back west.

To my disappointment, I had forgotten I had left the polarizer lens on my camera from a previous outing. Put that together with the fact that we were headed west late in the day, and the pictures I took were not at all with the right settings!

Another shock and disappointment was that we had never seen so little snow there. Yes, this was the end of September, but this had been a heavy-snow winter, and this pass is always the first one to close and the last one to open, due to heavy snows.

We were almost embarrassed for the nakedness of these slopes!

Is there still snow under that sawdusty talus covering?

Mountains backlit from a setting sun; polarizer lens (by accident), left me with just silhouettes of the peaks, but perhaps some of these shapes display why the North Cascades are called "The Alps of America".

We know that next time we will begin the loop drive north, then east so that we see the mountains in the light of the eastern sun.
This view was on the north side of the highway, so there was a tad more light:

Nature's Totem Pole:

An extremely long waterfall:

Same waterfall, closer by degrees:

And Ross Lake into which it empties:

ALASKA - WHAT A RUSH!

2011-08-25T22:41:00.000-07:00

When we went north to Alaska a couple of weeks ago, it was for gold of a

different sort than the historic kind.

It was our 50th - Golden - wedding anniversary. We always wanted to see Alaska, so in preparation to celebrate, we planned "our kind" of trip. It was to be the whole month of August. We had tickets for Alaska's Marine Highway: the sleek ferry, and routes to remote places all mapped out, with breathing room for being flexible; just us and our SUV.

Family schedules and events changed all that. We joyfully celebrated those things, and opted for getting to Alaska "anyway" via a cruise ship with the time we had left. The "herd mentality" we call it, is not our way of doing things, but eventually we got excited.

Our port was home: Seattle!

Our cabin was one of these, on level 9, with a balcony to starboard:

Fair weather and good-bye to our fair city:

After "moving in", I looked for unusual photo ops as we got acquainted with our vessel:

My favorite peak, Mt. Shuksan, from a new perspective:

First night out. A very good omen!

Two hours later than moon-rise, and that much further north, it was still

this light.

Low-lying fog settled in a phenomenal fashion:

(There are 4 more blog entries following this, of our Alaska trip)

KETCHIKAN

2011-08-25T22:15:00.000-07:00

Maybe the residents of coastal towns paint their buildings so outrageously colorful because

nature's palette is grey with rain nearly every day of the year.

We scurried to an historic place immediately after disembarking, avoiding the main street tourist shops.
This is Creek Street, the infamous district where "women of negotiable affections" had their places (over 37 of them at one time), practically stacked one on top of the other:

Creek street window:

The real adventure from Ketchikan was our little bush plane outing to a remote inlet several islands away from Ketchikan with the hopes of spotting bear at a fishing place.

But how could our pilot spot anything, I wondered, when I tried to look over shoulders, through the soggy, foggy windshield:

Because of engine noise, we couldn't talk, but I saw by Dick's charades that he was trying

to find out how I was doing and whether I had motion sickness.

I couldn't have put my 2 thumbs up any faster!

It was exhilarating from the rushing skim across the water, to take-off, to flying high and higher!

Forty-five minutes later we put down in a secluded inlet and were picked up by our guide for a

short drive through the woods to a trailhead:

We hiked to a lovely river and small waterfalls, and - yes- bears, fishing!

In spite of salmon a-plenty, this one looks disgruntled,

for good reason: he couldn't catch anything:

This big guy almost looks like a beloved dog posing for a portrait.

Our guide's silent hand signals and a glance at his side-arms of pistol and Bowie knife

warned otherwise:

Our float plane coming to pick us up:

TO JUNEAU AND BEYOND

2011-08-25T19:05:00.000-07:00

We get all claustrophobic when crunched in the slow-moving sludge of shoulder-to-shoulder tourists along main street shopping places.

To show we were in Juneau, I took these photos, trying to avoid the crowds:

Juneau, like the other Inside Passage Alaskan coastal towns, is built right into the rocky hillside

and can only spread upwards from the harbor:

Just a photo op:

Off of main street:

BEYOND Juneau was our adventure!

We took a small boat trip up the Tracy Arm Fjord to see the glacier at the end.

The steeply-sloping hillsides were running with water as if they were

massive green sponges being squeezed:

"Fjord" is exactly the right word. Though this was Alaska, it reminded us

exactly of what we have seen in Norway:

The waterfalls look casual from a distance, but are actually power-packed as they enter the water:

It was sleeting. The small boat was rocking. The captain took us within reaching distance of this waterfall.

The stranger who took this photo was, of course, not familiar with my camera.

All these reasons mean this picture is fuzzy:

Astoundingly blue icebergs began to appear as we neared the glacier, even though we could

not yet see it:

First sight of the Tracy Arm Glacier, a wild, walled,

rugged one as compared to the sloping Mendenhall Glacier:

I had hoped to see a seal on an iceberg.

Ha! Oodles of them - what a surprise!

Just one of hundreds:

We were close, and experienced several calvings:

The blue ice is the most wondrous sight:

SKAGWAY

2011-08-25T17:53:00.000-07:00

Skagway's backdrop:

Right off the ship, we knew this was going to be a good day when we saw the color of the water!

Just to show we were in Skagway, this is part of main street:

But our system is to avoid the tourist places and go about 3,4 blocks off of main street at the "back" part of town, and down the alleys.

We see such intriguing structures! And we are usually completely alone

in our ramblings:

Skagway, "behind" main street has boardwalks instead of concrete sidewalks:

You don't see these charming things in "town"!

So, that was our "view" of Skagway - completely tourist-free!

TO THE KLONDIKE

2011-08-25T17:32:00.000-07:00

We boarded the White Pass and Yukon narrow gauge RR to experience a little history.

There were 2 routes to the Klondike, blazed by those intrepid, gold-seeking 49'ers. The steepest, hardest route was also the shortest: Chilcoot Pass.

The slightly "easier" way was White Pass, but it was longer. (Also, it was pre-railroad!)

Our RR trip today was up White Pass:

I stayed as long and as often as possible out on the connection between RR cars.

This was taken straight down - a long way down:

And this, so close as we whizzed by, I got wet:

I was inside the car when the conductor announced "Caribou on the left!"

The windows were steamy, and I was standing, trying to keep steady against

the perpetual rocking. Plus, the caribou were on the move. I was lucky that they are

even half-way identifiable through the lens:

Outside again, and obviously, I got my head, shoulders and camera back in time:

Near the top, the landscape changed to scrubby trees and lots of rocky, mossy ground:

Looking for a moose!

At one point, the original Chilcoot Pass was visible:

WHERE THE WILD THINGS ARE...AND ARE NOT!

2011-08-25T16:37:00.000-07:00

Important note: meeting good folks, having someone else do the "driving", spectacular food and entertainment, plus a high degree of "relaxation factor" made cruising a very nice "compromise" indeed!

Our last port of call was Prince Rupert, BC.

Compared to the other places on this trip, we feel it did not have much to offer.

The best part was the bay and the entrance to the city's harbor:

A couple of reflection photos in the harbor itself:

Forgot to add in earlier posts a representative of a very important

wild thing of Alaska which we have seen; here, watching over Prince Rupert:

Totem poles, of course, are an important icon of Alaska, and I "collected" many.

This very old one was my favorite:

Our last day at sea was just that - completely at sea. Since our cabin was on the starboard side and we were sailing west of Vancouver Island, we settled in, not expecting to see land or any significant sights as we had been fortunate to do every other day of our cruise. When what to our wondering eyes should appear, but a stirring of the blue waters, right alongside the ship, and out...and out...! More than a hundred dolphins!

What a show they displayed!

We could almost hear their "Whee! Whee!"

as they scuffled the sea's surface and cavorted:

Alas, my answer to the continuing queries has to be: "No, we saw NO moose!"

Frustratingly, in all our latest travels, including to the remote Northwest Territories above B.C, the Maritime Provinces,

repeated trips to the Canadian Rockies and Glacier Nat.'l Park and northern New England states, my one wish was to see a moose in the wild. "Surely you will when you are in ....." (all of the above) we are told, always with confidence. Same thing before we went to Alaska, Loved Ones and Those Who Care,

wished me a moose sighting.

It didn't happen.

The closest we got was when our heads were on the pillow cases I made for this trip, made from a moose print fabric, here in our capacious cabin:

The best "sighting" of all! Just a few days after we returned home,

Leslie (our 2nd oldest granddaughter) and Andrew had their first baby!

Introducing precious and perfect Reagan Marie, here just 8 hours old:

TALL SHIP IN TOWN

2011-08-12T22:14:00.000-07:00

Yesterday morning at Seattle's waterfront we lucked out that a Russian Tall Ship was moored,

and open to visit

There is something very romantic in getting up close and personal

to a Tall Ship. Tales of adventures on the high seas, the very beginnings of Seattle's own historic port

make one immediately respect and be in awe of these brave and beautiful ships.

The Russian "Pallada" is swift; the fastest in the world of

its class

I thought I might topple over backwards in order to take these shots, looking aloft, straight up:

Ahhh, a more relaxing shot, off the port side:

And to starboard, my city!

A common mariner's language:

How do they know which is what?

Looking up again, from down below:

To us, the entire crew looked just like boys

but they must be burly to handle the bulk and hulk of such a ship:

I studied Russian ages ago, but I never learned how to say "Bon Voyage!"

It was the perfect place to be on a perfect day:

BUMBERSHOOT

2011-07-31T10:24:00.000-07:00

“Bumbershoot”! Seattle’s answer to New Orleans’ Mardi gras, and now I have a whole new interpretation of the term. The title fits, for obvious reasons. And Northwest rain, traditionally, is a good thing to celebrate because of the richness of green beauty it produces; the temperate climate; the ‘ooh/ahh” factor of all surrounding landscapes.

I had my own Bumbershoot yesterday! But my private celebration reads “Bumber Shoot”: a time to photograph umbrellas! I remembered that a friend has a collection of deliciously-colored golf umbrellas; the colors of rainbow sherbet, intensified. This next week our grandson is getting married and his fiancé has chosen the colors of gerbera daisies for the wedding. Gerberas are the life of the garden party themselves! Well, I fairly itched to take photos of those gerbera-colored umbrellas in order to make M’s bridal shower gift card.

My friend was more than accommodating! Not only did she offer the umbrellas, she welcomed me into their paradisiacal property on a private lake! I was there alone; I felt like the woodland fairy version of Mary Poppins, running here and there with “my” bouquet of umbrellas. I have never “staged” photos before. I am usually the one moving acrobat-like and getting into awkward positions to frame and shoot the picture I want.

I call this one "The Gossips":

I didn't think of captions while I was running about. That came later, with the download.

"You go first!" "No, you go first!":

I took advantage of a charming weathered plant holder:

"Wheeeeee!":

"Did someone remember the sunscreen?":

Debussy composed a little prelude he titled “Morning Mist”. The lake was unruffled as the sun came up, trying to punch its way through the steamy vapor, and now whenever I hear or play that piece I will have a mental image of this enchanting morning at the lake. And – yippee! – the sun back-lighted the umbrellas.

The intensity of colors changed as the sun got more brave:

Morning fog cleared and there also was Mt. Si:

Thanks again, dear friend, for your gracious hospitality!

ISLAND-HOPPING

2011-07-09T11:56:00.000-07:00

Island-hopping, Northwest style! And I don't mean going from one island to the other, but staying on Camano Island, hopping for joy every moment!

Photo buddy Pat and I picked the ideal day and destination.

When I downloaded my photos, I did more jumping for joy at having made all the right settings.

They all looked like I had photo-shopped for the intense color, but I do not

believe in that, and never, ever do it. It was simply, a "saturated" day, by nature!

We also found the perfect beach; part sand, part combing-conditions, with a view of the Cascades.

I did not use my telephoto, so Mt. Baker is very distant:

All my growing-up years we had property on Makah Bay.

I was free to roam the private Pacific beaches, taking only my sense of adventure and imagination.

This driftwood beach was reminiscent, adding another dimension to the "perfectness" of our outing this day:

It was also warm enough, even in the morning, to be in short sleeves.

Mt. Baker:

This old fallen sentinal was large enough to stand in.

I wanted to be a child again!

Clear jellyfish magnify the rocks:

MOVING ON

2011-07-09T11:33:00.000-07:00

We knew how lucky we had been to have the endless beach and view all to ourselves

(except 2 locals on their morning walks) the entire morning.

The first sign of "encroachment" sent us scampering elsewhere, though I did see

this nice photo composition on our way out:

(We admit we are beach snobs!)

The exit route we took was beyond the marshes, through old growth

forest and cool breezes.

Our "Hobbit Trail":

Sunbeams and wild Nootka roses:

Okay, spotting the first eagle validated the day!

King of all he surveys, including the Olympic mountains:

We found a rather isolated picnic table on a different beach and hauled out our picnic lunch.

This eagle was not far away, and he allowed us to get closer.

When he focused on me, personally, it was quite disconcerting.

Now I know what getting the "eagle eye" really feels like:

Cama was once a fishing village, and the old cabins have been restored.

This kind of "beaching it" is definitely not for me, but

they did make for a nice geometric composition:

HEADING HOME

2011-07-09T11:06:00.000-07:00

Ever on the hunt for photo ops, even when off the island, both Pat and I knew an

opportunity when we saw the cluttered antique shop.

It had an outside display - more cluttered than the inside.

But what a fun challenge!

"Color spots" were everywhere, but I just had to do acrobatics

to get the shots composed in order to minimize the background junk 'n stuff.

"Red, white 'n blue":

Crab a chair!

Wanna' hang out with me?

We visited a wooden boat center.

These canoes are hanging from the high ceiling.

"Old and new".

The ones in the background are ancient; made from Maine woods,

and are called "Old Town":

Farewell to the perfect day on Camano Island:

EAVES-DROPPING(s)

2011-06-29T11:26:00.000-07:00

We tried to dissuade them in April, being as the real estate Mr. Robin selected is in a busy place near our patio door. But while we were gone in May, he built his home for Mrs. Robin right here anyway.

"Just two of us

in our home of sticks":

"Before we knew it,

babies make six!"

Mama looks more exotic here than a robin because

of the filtered sunlight dappling her feathers:

Anyone who knows me well will be shocked to see this pic.

Yes, I actually post Papa with his ~~worm~~ offering!

(Shudder, shudder!)

But the babies were too cute to pitch this photo:

"Lookie over here! It will fit better in my beak!"

Do birdlings' beaks ever come unhinged?

I can't help but imagine this little guy is a Tattle-"tail".

"Waa. She pinched me!"

This photo is dedicated to my patient sister-in-law, Barb.

She didn't think me rude when I dropped the phone while she was talking

to grab my camera for this:

GARDEN "PURTY"

2011-06-19T22:03:00.000-07:00

Cabin fever is at epidemic proportions. Photo buddy, P, and I went out a couple of days ago when there was merely a possibility of "sunbreaks". We will take it on a promise these days!

The botanical gardens always beckon. This time we went with a self-imposed challenge to experiment with our macro lenses, using aperture settings that would "float" most of the flower and focus on only a small part. I could not really get the hang of it.

This and the following 3 posts are from the same outing.

I tried to like the results, but I can't help judging that it is simply

"out of focus".

THEY DO NOT STAND ALONE

2011-06-19T21:49:00.000-07:00

It did not take me long at all to determine that I do not like the effect of almost an entire flower looking out of focus, even if it is on purpose. To me the result feels "unfinished", like I want to adjust the lens and bring it all to clarity.

The following photos were in the pitch pile until I noticed the effect the settings had on the backgrounds.

They each look as if they have been watercolored, or even digitally tweaked.

Eeek, no! I never, ever enhance or ditz around with my photos.

If I can't "take it" the way I want, well, out they go.

I love the coloring of these backgrounds. Maybe I will use these settings after all, just to

capture great backdrops!

Gotta' have that bee!

WILLING SUBJECTS

2011-06-19T21:38:00.000-07:00

I didn't want all my photos to have this "new look", especially since I am not really sold on it.

I like the etherial look with some flowers, but I am not ready to

adapt the style.

In fact, most of those with the aperture adjustments I will

simply pitch out.

So, I tried some with a compromise focus:

I think these blossoms look like they have a case of the giggles!

Mr. Bee must know that his outfit is enhanced by his choice of surroundings:

STILL EXPERIMENTING

2011-06-19T21:30:00.000-07:00

I started to tire - yes! - I admit it. We were snapping photos at every turn, and turn again. I opted out of using my monopod, so I was toting that separately and it became a hindrance. The settings I used at the end were for trying to get a subject to look like it was immerging from the dark.

Conclusions from all my efforts today:

I have a lot to learn.

and:

I love the learning process!

The token bee:

THROUGH THE PALOUSE

2011-06-05T10:12:00.000-07:00

The last days of our trip were spent with our oldest grandson and his wife who are at WSU in Pullman.

We have come to love it there, enlarging our appreciation of geography to include

the "wide open spaces" of the Palouse.

The clear definition of rotated crops offers a very satisfying, soothing composition:

And barns are set in wide open spaces too:

Contented cows, in pastures flank-deep:

This saddle-backed barn needed closer inspection:

Another view of the striations in the landscape,

and a person with a real view:

LEWIS AND CLARK

2011-05-29T10:04:00.000-07:00

Instead of heading home from Boise the usual route, we drove due north through the western part of Idaho.

The scenic byway we selected was the windiest road we have ever driven.

That says a lot, given all the backroads we have traveled.

That is because we were already into the next curve as soon as leaving one, plus the ups and downs of following river routes to farm plateaus.

Part of it was called "Devil's Elbow" route.

I think we did the entire skeleton by day's end.

Near New Meadows, Idaho, on Stonebreaker Lane:

A contributor to the Little Salmon River:

High above Lewis and Clark's Clearwater River:
(Yes, it has a tin roof, but it is near Cavendish, which is a direct-line family name for me.)

If you know me, you know that a tin roof nulifies the whole barn for me.

But the late afternoon light sort of washed away the tackiness on this one:

Plus it was the cupola that really charmed me:

PINE VALLEY

2011-05-27T21:44:00.000-07:00

I am going in reverse here, chronologically, because these shots were on the end

of the desert plants memory card.

One of the outings my cousin and her husband took us on was up to Pine Valley.

Here, we begin at their home at the opening to the canyon:

This area has not been exempt from record rainfall and late mountain snow, which means

we were fortunate to see the Santa Clara River. In a few weeks, there

will be no water here at all:

It is always a thrill to me to come across a pioneer-era

homestead:

The place was abandoned, but this horse was very much alive
in a tumble-down enclosure:

At the settlement of Pine Valley is an LDS chapel, which

is the oldest such building in existence that is still and has

been in continual use since it was built in 1868:

We made the loop from the town of Pine Valley back down

through Snow Canyon - a favorite place from my earlier visit:

BLOOMING LIKE A ROSE

2011-05-27T21:26:00.000-07:00

While staying in St. George, it was exciting to see what a difference a month had made.

When I was there in April, no plants were yet in bloom.

Some of the cacti showed signs and promise of color, but I had no

idea what could happen as a result of the season -end's rain and

just the right temperatures, and 4 weeks!

This time we experienced every possible growing thing in its fullness!

I know absolutely nothing of these desert growing things, except for their exceptional beauty:

I cannot give a name to any of them, and that frustrates me.

One other thing I know is that what might resemble something that blossoms in the Northwest is

definitely not the same plant at all. Everything pictured here has spines someplace

on its make-up.

This is NOT a wild rose:

A desert cousin to the hydrangea?

Whoever painted this one was definitely a novice, but

I like its character anyway!

And no, it is not a daisy because here again, it has a prickly stem:

How would you like to pick this bud?

Or this one?

These stalks were over 12 feet high:

And here is a close-up:

Lastly, my favorite. This plant looks like something that

is living under water, or that belongs in "Fantasia". In the morning breeze, its feathery heads were lighter

than dandelion seeds. They swayed as if affected by a tidal current:

COLORADO RIVERWAY

2011-05-27T20:43:00.000-07:00

Leaving Moab, we sadly thought we were also leaving all of our red rock "ooohs" and "ahhhs".

What a nice surprise that by choosing to drive the Colorado Riverway we

could enjoy yet more astounding sights on all sides:

This was the first time we saw this section of the real Colorado river; not just

the canyons and formations its flow has created over

eons of time. The river is nearly as red as its "banks":

To the east of the river is "Castle Valley", and it is easy

to see why it is thus named:

These formations reminded us of our trips down the Mainz and the

Rhine rivers in Germany. Just like there, we saw "castles" on every promontory:

I don't know what river is indicated in the song,

"Red River Valley", but I have to think it is

the mighty Colorado:

UPSTAIRS, DOWNSTAIRS

2011-05-23T22:19:00.000-07:00

"Canyonlands"! We had no idea what was in store for us when we visited that national park yesterday.

We entered at the north portal only to learn that there are two completely different parts to the park.

The northern end is the "overview". "Everything you see here will be from above" the ranger explained.

"You will be looking down on all the formations."

It was like seeing a thousand smaller Grand Canyons in one place.

Here is the Colorado River basin, ala millions of years ago:

Looking over a sort of prairie, with the river basin in the background.

I was standing on the foreground ledge, barely visible here by a slight color difference.

"Below" is a thousand feet down:

Little purple wildflower survivors:

Just on the other side of this arch is a shear dropoff of hundreds of feet:

This arch is on a plateau too, but the edge was not so precariously close:

To see the southern part of the park we had to drive back to Moab and south for 2 1/2 hours - there

is no way to connect within the park.

Before the entrance is a rock face as big as 2 garage doors, completely covered

with prehistoric petroglyphs.

It is called "Newspaper Rock" for a good reason:

There is hardly a hand-print-sized space that is blank.

I chose to show here my favorite pattern as a close-up rather than the entire wall:

Now we were back on the "bottom" and once again all the formations were high above us:

This looks like a milkweed pod, but it grows straight up on a single, tall stem from a type of cactus:

These formations were different from any we had seen all week.

I called them "steam tops" because I imagined how, after all the cataclysms

happened which formed the other shapes, these little mounds popped

open to let out all the steam. I could almost hear the

"blup, schlop, blup" boiling on the tops:

The southern park is called "The Needles", for this reason:

I scrambled up a boulder to see what I could see from

this little "window".

Nothing, really:

We had ideal weather in all the parks, but as we

left The Needles, a storm boiled in, with lightening and

thunderous clouds:

ARCHES AND ACHES

2011-05-22T21:33:00.000-07:00

A glorious day it was, on Saturday the 22nd, and we spent the entire day in Arches National Park.

Just ask our own foot arches how much we hiked and walked!

At day's end our muscles ached somewhat, but our senses were rejoicing!

Because the "Delicate Arch" is Utah's icon of sorts (the one pictured on license plates and postage stamps, etc) I had the idea that it was something to be viewed alongside the road through the park.

Uh-uh!

To see it, we hiked for 3 miles on a somewhat strenuous, steep trail. At times the trail hugged overhanging rocks and it was narrow; other times we could scramble just about anywhere over the smooth rocks. But it was always upward.

This photo does not show the perspective, but it is one of the steep rock passages, and the view is straight upward here. I thought if this little blossom could make it, so could I (of course, it is resting!):

The Delicate Arch is immense and stands at the edge of an even more immense red rock natural amphitheater.

Exhausted, hot (it was 81 degrees at the bottom) hikers sat all around to view the reward:

Here Dick starts down to the base from high on the steppes:

Dick and I:

This view is from the side, taken from near where the rock plateau drops away for hundreds of feet:

We are so lucky that the desert is in bloom:

Back down near where the Delicate Arch trail starts are the remains of an early settler's cabin and corral:

Typical panorama:

Though the park rocks' color is predominately red-orange,

there is contrast:

I call this style "Fallen Arches":

The beginning of another trail we hiked:

(Imagine the anticipation; those majesties saying, "Welcome to my kingdom"!)

"Balanced Rock":

A short hike took us to "Landscape Arch".

It is longer than a football field and frighteningly high overhead:

It was bright-hot, so I looked for any kind of shadow from which to snap a photo.

The rocks really are that burning color, and moreso here because of the sun's angle:

There are hikers in this photo, so it shows the immensity of this arch:

Two peaks. The one with snow is in the Lasal Range:

And lastly, a wildflower backlit by the setting sun:

ALL IN A DAY'S DRIVE

2011-05-22T06:41:00.000-07:00

There are a few different ways to get from St. George to Moab, Utah, and on Friday the 20th we selected 3 scenic byways and connected them.

What a variety of topography and weather!

These pics are a pot pourri of what we experienced in our 10-hour drive.

I have drooled over the snow-on-red-rock photos I have seen in magazines.

This day we had snow, and we had red rocks, BUT

we also had low clouds - too thick for the photographer's dream effect:

It was snowing while I took these pics.

During my whining about the low clouds ruining my photo ops of the astounding red rocks with snow, this little guy flitted by, as if to say, "You want color? Just watch me!"

Close-up of the "fabric" of some stone:

The following few pics show a plain grey landscape. These formations looked like the sand heaps the road crews use for icy roads. No, they are hard as....well...rock; and close examination shows they have the texture of elephant skin:

It was as if we spent the day in an immense stock pot, and each of the geological formations were parts of a yummy stew. So different! Such variety - chock full of goodness and surprises.

At a shoulder driver-switch stop, this meadowlark performed so loudly we thought he had landed on top of the car. No trees for him anywhere - he alighted as the final spice to our stew:

GARDEN AT DUSK

2011-05-16T17:51:00.000-07:00

Last evening I treated myself to another wander in Barb's garden. To be able to do that morning and night - well, one could be stress-free, always!

I am enamored by, not only the color of agapanthas, but the budding process.

Occasionally a white agapantha dares to sneak out amongst the field of blue:

This was one of my last shots in the waning light:

Setting sun made for shadows in the folds of rose petals:

Not much light left in the day to accentuate this refraction on a gladiola:

Even thistles are lovely in the right light:

Ahhh.... agapantha in the dusky light looks like it has been dipped in indigo:

And this one, at pool's edge, looks quite Egyptian:

Roses a-fire in the last light:

...and putting on a comforter when the light is gone:

TIPTOE THROUGH THE GARDEN

2011-05-13T20:52:00.000-07:00

Sunshine in the morning! Sunshine all day! That's what makes these beauties glow; it is D's sister Barb who makes these beauties grow.

A stroll through parts of her garden warmed my heart this morning.

This is an Iceland poppy - a cup of morning cheer:

And glad-faced peonies, so bright it hurts the eyes:

It is always hard for me to believe orchids grown outside! This refraction was clear, but

the orchid too close to define it as such:

These drops do not come from dew in this southern clime, but from the early-morning sprinkler system.

These droplettes are skewered by miniscule fuzz on a poppy stem:

A frosty-white Iceland poppy:

And another poppy with cast-aside bud hood:

I call this "dew-dew" because one droplette is resting atop another water drop:

Agapanthas are periwinkle blue! Here, a water drop has a refraction, but it is of a petal so slender that it appears the drop is outlined in blue:

Trio of crinkly Iceland poppies looks almost to be singing into the morning:

The center of an Iceland poppy in all its intricasies:

PEAKS AND PEEKS

2011-05-10T21:59:00.000-07:00

Because of the extra long winter/spring, there is more snow on the California mountains than usual at this time of year.

Mt. Shasta was glorious from the road on this blue-sky day:

We took a short hike above the Castle Crags State Park in the

Siskiyous:

The rewards: a view of Castle Crags along the way:

And from the top:

Turn around at the top, and - Ta-Dah! - Mt. Shasta:

Looking absolutely straight up into the blue, blue sky, here is a

spring-green canopy bringing to life gnarly, ages-old trunks:

Back at the bottom, my favorite flower, lilacs, straddling an old split-rail fence:

(I straddled it too, to get a sniff, and well... I admit, a sprig for the car)

Deep in the dark parts of the trail - fresh-faced dogwood illuminate the shadows:

BREWING

2011-05-08T21:27:00.000-07:00

There is nothing to recommend these pics as credible photos.

What they represent, however, is quite incredible weather, which displayed

itself as quickly-moody as a two-year-old.

I had just gotten home from bright blue-sky weather in southern Utah, and I was hopeful that

our local weather had turned to a pleasant spring while I was gone.

Not.

A few evening ago, an eeriness set into the atmosphere; skies churned, mixing black and navy blue and violet - having an all-out tantrum.

These trees in our yard, which had not yet even turned a tiny bit green, became illumanted as if from within. There was certainly not any visible sun to do the job:

These are the forming leaves of a big red-leaf maple. Here, the young leaves are less than palm-sized, where they will become the largest of all maple leaves.

NO sun, just an "electric" atmosphere made the leaves look like red-lit bulbs:

It was definitely the kind of mood when someone notes, "There has got to be a rainbow out there somewhere!"

And there it was, right in my normal view:

A double one tried to appear:

Like the last chord on an organ, the "swell pedal" was pushed, and the whole spectrum

blasted forth before suddenly disappearing:

IN THE PINK

2011-04-11T16:21:00.000-07:00

I had local errands to do, and since we were having a psuedo-sunny day, I added a few minutes and stalked North Bend.

I can't bring myself to call a beautiful blossom a "sucker", so I will name it an Upstart Bud. It is growing from old lichen on a trunk. I didn't have my macro lens with me, but the bud was so bravely pink and sturdy:

I have to chuckle at what my friend P calls the Snoqualmie caboose: "Pepto Bismal Pink".

We both groan at how ugly it is and that it should be red. and that we need to take Pepto Bismal when

we look at it.

However, this morning it was worthy of a closer look because of the pink blossoms that matched and softened the effect:

This horrid pink is not enhanced; that is, unfortunately, the painted color of the caboose.

Perhaps it is blushing with embarrassment:

This was a "turn around and go back!" statement, outloud to myself.

Not pink for my theme here, but these old painted stairs are charming and add a touch of whimsy

to my blog for the day:

BREATHING LESSONS

2011-04-09T08:23:00.000-07:00

This is a slightly-out-of character blog for me.

This time it is less about photos and more about memories.

Our youngest grandson (12 years old) was here with us part of this past week, which was his spring break.

Unfortunately, it rained in a full-blast stormy way the entire time.

But, we surely did benefit from his visit!

He loves to cook, and so he prepared individual omelettes for us every morning. Everything

smelled and tasted so good!

Poor guy was stuck with doing a school project instead of

hiking, and flying the sophisticated kite he brought.

But he and I had fun with his assignment. The project was supposed to show 101 ways to better health

in several categories, using a "theme" that showed his character and interests.

Plus, we got to hear him practice. Now, that made my heart smile!

One day of spring sun came after he left. This was a breath of fresh air for sure,

but so was G while he was in our home.

SOGGY BUDS

2011-04-03T16:41:00.000-07:00

If I can't beat 'em, I will join 'em!

Still raining; new buds still drenched.

I got wet while trying to see what I could see in our cherry tree budlettes, but if I waited...

This one looks like some sort of embryo, the way the rain drop encases it. No refraction, but the bud casing is enclosed. These buds are no larger than the head of a map pin:

Since the droplette is so small, it is hard to see that the refraction is actually of Mt. Si:

Bell clapper "under glass":

GRASPING AT STRAWS

2011-04-01T07:35:00.000-07:00

March came in, not just like a lion, but a lion, a badger, and a crocodile!

It went out like a whole pride of lions, a colony of badgers and a bask of crocs - all fighting!

Desperate to find a blooming thing amidst the soggy surroundings, I drove out and about, close to home.

No green buds, even next to a barn, which is where they usually first evidence themselves.

The river caught my attention with this pure aqua color. It must have been something in the atmosphere because it was raining, and so dull everywhere else. This color is unusual here; we have seen it only in the Canadian Rockies:

Daffodils are up! No, wait. They are down...weighted by rain, their heads are all drooping:

To find color, I resorted to going inside!

WEARIN' 'O THE GREEN

2011-03-18T12:39:00.000-07:00

I am a day late, but I wasn't home to do this until now.

There are so many greens in our natural world, especially here in the northwest.

I got carried away here, but I did actually restrain myself.

Some creatures wear green all the time:

Teasle, still in the green:

Douglas Fir new growth:

In the end, no one wears it better!

SAME 'OLE / SAME 'OLE

2011-03-05T14:01:00.000-08:00

As I sat at my computer to start downloading the puddle photos of the following blog, a brightness (not the sun, phooey!) burst through the window and back-lighted a bouquet of tulips on my desk.

It was only momentary, but just long enough for me to pick up my camera before the downloading had started.

Yes, every single year I photograph tulips on my desk!

But hey - they bring spring to my heart long before it has occurred outside!

I am so thrilled that the auto-turn glitch has been fixed and I can post my photos as I have taken them, and without distortion!

I love that this one seems to be filling with the color of the yellow tulip underneath:

FINGERPAINTING, ANYONE?

2011-03-05T13:47:00.000-08:00

Yesterday while D and I were on our early-morning bike ride, the temp was below freezing enough to put a thin layer of ice on the bike trail puddles.

Not a thing of beauty, a shallow mud puddle; I would much rather come across a nice backyard garden pool for ice photos.

Mud below, and no macro lens meant I shouldn't have even bothered.

However, it was fascinating that such varied patterns could occur on barely one-inch-deep water.

This one does indeed look like finger painting:

Fascinating how little pebbles could cause a rift in the freezing process:

This one looks like it was tossed in at the very second of the freezing point, creating a "splash" of ice:

And waves, in thin ice?

Why straight lines here instead of curved like all the others?

MORE SNOW OVERNIGHT!

2011-02-24T17:19:00.000-08:00

I was the first one "out there" this morning! More snow fell overnight, it was 22 degrees, and I wanted a solo tromp more than I wanted breakfast! I drove fairly close to home on back roads - pristine, and hub-cap deep in unbroken snow.

In the early light, the lamp posts of nearby farms and estates were charming:

Barn berm:

Brambles and barn and a peak of Mt. Si:

This would be a mighty cold seat!

Natural "black and white" scenes are catching my eye lately:

And then, there's contrast! This is actually one of my favorite North Bend barns, which is also featured in a barn book I have made. I haven't ever seen it this way though:

I ended my outing discovering this serene farm, ermine-white in every aspect:

AND THEN ALONG CAME ANOTHER OFFER

2011-02-24T17:00:00.000-08:00

After I got home and warmed up, photo buddy P called to suggest we check out the mill pond and Falls. Couldn't keep me in!

Here is the mostly-frozen mill pond with a less-than-perfect reflection because of a slight breeze and those low-slung clouds.

Snoqualmie Falls was furiously creating an icy mist which stuck to the camera lens, but also, because of the sub-freezing temperature, clung to the flora, making frosty fingers. These are reaching over the Falls, barely seen as a blur on the left:

More patterns in "black and white" at the Falls:

On the way home, we stopped at the Snoqualmie train station:

Tangled tendrils encased in ice, hanging over the Falls:

I... JUST... KNEW IT!

2011-02-23T17:37:00.000-08:00

In my snow-loving-soul, I could feel that we had yet another winter storm to come. Even when the sun brightened a clear, icy-blue sky earlier in the week, I had strong feelings of the "next one" on the way.

Yes! The photos here are when the snow just barely started to fall. Snowfall was not the reason for the pics, but rather the elk. A faction of the North Bend herd came closer to us than ever, shown here in the pasture across the street from us. They look filmy and out of focus because it was snowing pretty hard.

Camara-shy?

Hunkering down, this big one looked more like a llama:

I think I now know how to rectify the turning-upon-posting problem I have had. But I can't start fixing it with photos I took prior to this afternoon. This one (and better ones I really want to post, but which are too distorted by Blogger) is turned:

Snow fell more furiously as I was out for errands, so I stopped at the local RR graveyard to see what I could see. I call all the rest of these, " Natural Black and White" strictly because of the contrast between Things Railroad and the Snow:

I hope this is the very last photo that will be turned sideways. At least this one did not get distorted in the process:

THE ACCIDENTAL PHOTOGRAPHER

2011-02-17T16:19:00.000-08:00

It tried to snow this morning, so I stuck my camera in the car. No snow. In fact, no interesting weather at all. Then I went on an errand to a friend's home not far from here, but around the other side of the mountain from us. The sun blinked for just a moment as I rounded the corner from home, and I snapped this, glad that the camera was still on board. An overabundance of recent rain has left puddles with a view:

Rounding the bend to my destination - what? Did I see the patches of high, new snow moving a bit?

Be still my heart! Better yet, be still my hands! Oh, for a better telephoto lens! This was the best I could do with what I have:

More weather changes yet! As soon as I got home, this is what I saw from my computer desk. It is rare that we see Little Si distinguished from Mt. Si behind it. From our perspective, it usually blends right into the flanks of the larger mountain:

And here is their relationship, but very defined:

Well, as long as I am posting the fresh rainbow, here is one from 2 weeks ago at Snoqualmie Falls where the colors formed in the icy mist of the Falls: (I have that old nemesis directional switch going on here. Hummphhh!)

These photos were not thrilling to me. I would normally not have even posted them. But to view the goats was indeed thrilling, and I know my family and friends would want to see the experience more than prize-winning photos.

MICRO WEATHER PATTERNS

2011-02-08T22:15:00.000-08:00

This afternoon my photo buddy, P, called to say, "Let's go to Rattlesnake Lake while the sun at last is shining!" "Uh...it's raining", said I. "But I see nothing but blue, blue sky all around." P lives just 10 minutes away...around the flank of the mountain. But if there was a chance for a window of sunshine, who was I to stay home? Yes, we went, and yes it rained, it sunned, it clouded - within yards of each other as we walked the edge of the lake.

Looking up I saw clouds. Looking down, into the puddles, there was a hint of blue:

What looks like a shallow, rocky place in the lake is actually a reflection of Rattlesnake Peak:

Gander guarded the lake edge with puffed-up authority:

Once again we practiced waterfalls. I am still very upset with Blogger that my vertical shots get turned to horizontal right before I transfer them here. They were my best 2 waterfall shots, but got distorted in the turning, so I can't use them.

With this cascade I am looking downward:

We were teased with "almost sun" on our outing, but Lo!

Later this evening, back at home, Mt. Si looked like this, slashed by the sunset, from our front porch:

IN-BETWEEN

2011-02-07T18:16:00.000-08:00

This is the time of year when anything can happen, weather-wise. However, it is normally more exciting and dimentional that what we have had lately. I have come to think that Mother Nature has the "blahs".

Here is the near-by mill pond, mid-day:

Maybe she has more than the "blahs"; maybe this is "straight-line" on the chart:

In any case, all our surroundings are monochromatic:

Except one recent morning! Before the gray set in, sunrise looked like this

from our back porch. It was not actually a bona-fide sunrise, because those colors would have shown

from the front side of our house. For an eye-blink moment there were lavender and gray waves of clouds.

After getting my camera, the "side effect" had turned this odd color. (Hmmm, could I call that "periwinkle blue", do you think?)

SHUTTER SPEED PRACTICE

2011-01-31T12:43:00.000-08:00

A couple of days ago the boring weather actually relaxed with a sigh and let the sun brush in. My photo buddy P called, and I knew right away why: "Let's get out there!" Turned out to be a momentary temptation; the sun left as we left the driveway. So we just went close-by to practice getting waterfall shots. Even for that, the sky made for blow-out pics in our practice. So, I post only one in order to remember that we tried:

Okay, I am really upset with the posting process here. I call this shot, "Bubble Beetles", but it is supposed to be horizontal, not vertical. This blog insists on making it vertical. To see the "beetles", you have to turn your head sideways. These little guys were scooting around in the pool at the bottom of the little waterfall:

I gave up on the waterfall because the pool at the bottom caught my attention. The sky was changing moods like a chameleon and so did the shadows and colors in the pool. Here, the sky was momentarily brighter:

And this reflects a sudden change to a darker mood. Same camera settings; same place; different sky colors:

Looks a lot like water and oil. But the water was clear.

A DAY AT MOLBAK'S !

2010-11-04T19:08:00.000-07:00

Do I love front door decor? On our recent trip to New England, it became one of my favorite photo subjects! I spent most of the day with photo friend, P, and we giggled with the pure joy of all that Molbak's has to offer at this time of year!

Same door, taken through a wrought iron gate:

Up close to some Christmas trees:

It was actually sunny and warm (in the high 70s!), so we broused around in the outside nursery as well. What with the weather forecast, it was probably the last time we could do this. How lucky we felt!

I think this bee has his seasons mixed up. Well, it did feel just like spring, after all!

The last coneflower:

Well, maybe not quite the last, but this one was on its last, um, petals:

And this wonderful species of Japanese maple - so delicate! - looks like a hanging Christmas ornament:

Ahhh - poinsettias! Molbak's is getting ready for their annual, unbeatable poinsettia display. This is my new favorite variety, "Ruby Frost":

To end the tour on a jolly note, items like these just make one want to sing "Jingle Bells!"

What a blatant jump from holiday red and green, to blazing autumnal colors!

The next 2 photos are from Molbak's also, outside. On one I focused on the maple trees, and on the other I focused on the rusty gate. Not sure which I like the best, but the colors didn't change!

Somewhat on the same theme are the last 2 photos. These were taken yesterday from inside an office building. Outside, the parking lot is rimmed with trees, and this was the perspective from an interior stairway. Sure did light up the way!