Thursday, June 25, 2015
The infrequency of my posts here recently might lead one to the conclusion that I've lost interest in this blog. Or that I haven't been doing anything worth sharing. Or that I've been uninspired photographically.
Believe me, none of these things is the case, because the truth is I've been doing a ton-o-stuff -- and seeing, and shooting -- but haven't had the time to sit down and post.
So a quick remedy of that situation is in order.
These are pictures from a hike/climb my friends and I did recently up Vesper Pk in the Cascades.
It was a perfect day, beginning with the sunrise I watched from the ferry on Puget Sound, and continuing as we trekked through a lowland forest, then up into the rocky and snowy high country.
Believe me, no moss is growing under this Pacific Northwest photographer's feet.
Tuesday, June 16, 2015
I guess there are many reasons I have climbed mountains over the years:
I climbed Mt. Rainier because she is the highest peak in Washington.
I climbed Mt. Stuart because, to me, she is the most beautiful.
I climbed Mt. St. Helens because she is arguably the most notorious.
And, last week, three friends and I climbed Ruth Mountain in the North Cascades, and it happens that two of us have mothers named Ruth.
After my climb of Ruth Mountain, I called my mother to tell her that I had made the trip to her namesake. Mom seemed pleased about the mountaineering adventure I had done in her honor. But, in true Mom style, she was, more than anything, happy that I'd come back healthy.
We climbers were tiny figures in the vast landscape of Ruth Mountain. Click on the images to see them at a larger size.
Monday, June 1, 2015
I was in Ohio last week, visiting my mother, and, when I returned to the Pacific Northwest, it was as if the forests and big trees went out of their way to welcome me back home with stunning shows of beauty and photographic opportunity.
"Remember us?" the trees whispered, kind of like an old girlfriend temptress. "We missed you. Did you miss us?" The trees did not even pretend to be shy.
One day the dog and I were out for our early-morning stroll. The sun was rising and cast beams of yellow light through a thin veil of fog in the trees. The scene practically shouted "photograph me!"
Another day I took some visiting friends for a hike on a trail in the nearby Olympic National Forest. Rhododendrons were blooming, adding striking splashes of pink in an otherwise green-green-green scene.
My knees buckled and my old girlfriend smiled, knowing I was a goner for her. I'd buy her dinner, take her dancing, anything she wanted. The old flame was rekindled, and, even if I had wanted to, it was useless to resist.