Notes To My Mother

Indian Beach is a lovely beach in Oregon with the typically gentle slope of the sand out to the ocean. Waves come in spreading out over the beach leaving a wonderfully reflective surface. I will often find myself in the surf with my tripod and camera. To keep the tripod steady I dig the legs down as deep and I can into the sand. This helps to keep the incoming waves from shaking the tripod during long exposures. It also means I will probably take several shots from that one spot, since I went to so much trouble to get things really set and stable. Therein lies a big risk: standing still in the surf you will find your feet sinking imperceptibly deeper and deeper into the sand. The combination of water and sand will hold onto your feet as if it were a giant suction cup holding your feet. Now comes a bigger than usual wave, you begin to lose balance and as you pull up with one foot it is held down by the suction, you wrench free, stepping back only to find the action of ...

One afternoon late in the day I was driving through Sebastopol on highway 12. The sun was low on the horizon, well into the golden hour, when I glanced to my left. I couldn’t have seen it for more than a fraction of a second, but it was unmistakable and it has been etched in my memory ever since. White blossoms set back in the dark of a thicket, framed by the trees and illuminated by the setting sun. Only the blossoms were lit, everything else was dark and undiscernable. I hesitated, should I stop, run back and see if I could get a shot of it? I had my camera, but the traffic, and where to pull off?  In the time it took me to debate it I was well down the road and I let opportunity slip away.  I have returned on subsequent occasions always looking to see if that scene would reappear. I am sure it has, but never again in my presence. Every time I think of those illuminated blossoms I remind myself, “If you see it, stop and shoot it”, even if I am a mile down the road: ...

Over the years, sunrise has become my favorite time of the day.  I remember back to the first time that I really, REALLY, experienced a sunrise. It was some years ago just outside the little town of Escalante in Southern Utah. I had the good fortune to be able to witness these sunrises every morning across the street from the house where we were staying. Awakening in the pre-dawn hours, quietly making a cup of coffee (some might argue with the “quietly” part), I would slip out the front door and cross the street to the edge of the open expanse that lay beyond.  Placing my coffee cup on a fencepost, my camera on the tripod, I would stand in darkness waiting for the first light to makes its appearance. Glowing In Brilliant Saturated Colors It is the evolution from the darkness when there is very little you can see, to the beginning of twilight as forms begin to emerge and birds begin their songs, followed by the gradual imperceptible transition of the light, right up to...

There is about a three-quarters full moon with no clouds. Stars are bright. Jan, my wife, is asleep in the motel. I’m standing next to my car, finishing a cup of hotel coffee, in the parking lot of Horseshoe Bend, just down the road from Page, Arizona. I’m the only one here and I love it! I can see pretty good by the light of the moon so I decide to leave my flashlight behind.  Camera gear in my backpack, tripod in hand I start up the sandy slope toward Horseshoe Bend. I scouted it the day before as far as the top of this first hill, so I have an idea of what is ahead. But I have never been down the other side to the Colorado River’s edge. Horseshoe bend is just that, a big horseshoe like bend in the Colorado River, very picturesque and popular with tourists. I love being in these kinds of places when there is no one else around. I’ll have it that way for sure this morning. I take my time, careful not to fall in any holes along the way. Actually it is a pretty g...