Olmsted Point, Highway 120

If you take highway 120 over to 395 you will come to a turnout a bit west of Tuolumne Meadows, called Olmstead Point. If you are there near sunset it is definitely a place to take a break and bathe in the views. To the west you will see Half Dome in golden hour light.

Across the highway you can climb the hill and get a nice view to the east of Tanaya Lake and the mountains surrounding it.

The views from here are very nice. I believe the peak shown above is Mt. Ritter, a 13K peak.

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White Tailed Kites - A Family Affair

Perhaps you have seen birds fluttering in one place in the air. I have seen Northern Harriers do this as well as kestrels. But most commonly it is the white-tailed Kite. Three years ago there was a family of them in the Laguna De Santa Rosa and I had the privilege of witnessing their behaviors and capturing some of it with my camera. This first picture (above) shows a juvenile in flight and an adult on the branch. The juveniles are distinguishable by the brown markings. This Kite family had three juveniles and one adult, perhaps two adults but I only saw one at any given time. Late one evening I saw this scene with the adult holding a gopher or vole while the three juveniles gathered. I was particularly taken by the orientation of the juvenile's body on the bottom left. As it turned out I got several shots of juveniles in unusual positions. On one occasion I photographed one of the juveniles doing a somersault in mid air (topi...

The East Side of the Sierras is Beautiful

Why “Notes to My Mother”? My mother was the one person in my life who was always interested in what I was doing, what I had to say, who I was. She was never too busy to listen and take an interest. Never critical, always accepting. Even when I was wrong or misguided, there would still be a gentle interested listener present. Though she has been gone over 6 years, I still get the urge to write or call her, to share an image I am proud of or share my latest adventure to some beautiful place. I know she would love to hear about it. My mother was an artist. She painted most of her life, right up to her passing at the age of 96. When I was 4 years old we lived on the east side of the Sierra Nevada Range. She would take me out to paint with her - she with her easel, me with mine - and we would sit together creating our art. While I gave up on the medium she kept at it. Then, in the year she passed I picked up a digital camera and began my adventure into the world of landscape ph...

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Notes To My Mother

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