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Showing posts with label California. Show all posts
Showing posts with label California. Show all posts
June 24, 2013
Photo a Day - Last Week of May
Lately, I have been taking a close look at what I spend my time on and one of the thoughts from that is - why I do this "Photo A Day" project. Unfortunately, I don't yet have a good answer. Part of me thinks it is laziness, or lack of "time" to tell you the real story behind the photograph, the one I really want you to know. In the meantime, here are some images from the last week of May.
May 24, 2013
Poppy on a walk through the Anza Vista neighborhood.
May 25, 2013
Poppy, Paul and I on a very windy day at the beach near Crissy Field.
May 26, 2013
A guided wild food walk plant identification class in chilly Golden Gate Park. Apparently clover is edible in small amounts!
May 27, 2013
Wild radish, in its prime. On my own wild food identification in the Presidio.
May 29, 2013
Another walk in the woods, I like the one thread of a spider web trailing off of this plant.
May 30, 2013
In the area around Mountain Lake I spot a bird who poses for me.
May 31, 2013
I am on my way to Oregon through the dry rolling hills of California, west of Sacramento on Interstate 505.
May 24, 2013
May 25, 2013
May 26, 2013
May 27, 2013
May 29, 2013
May 30, 2013
May 31, 2013
April 10, 2013
April 3, 2013
Wednesday
My mother is here with Beth for a few days before they fly to Hawaii where they meet up with my dad to spend two weeks with Christine. So, I try to dazzle them with what I can compete with here in Northern California. My mother and Beth both being gardeners, I take them on a wild food walk in the East Bay, which they are both looking forward to. We respectfully collect Miner's Lettuce, Mallow, Star Thistle, Chamomile and Sorrel. It is beautiful and warm. That morning it had been cold and foggy when we had done a city walk at the Japanese Tea Garden where the cherry blossoms there are in perfect bloom, a few petals just beginning to fall. To end our long day, we eat Cioppino at Sotto Marre and I can't wait to go to bed.
August 11, 2012
The Great American Road Trip - Driving to Hood River, Oregon
Continued from The Great American Road Trip.
Despite baking in the sun, I do like the drive to Oregon. My sister mentioned to me that I seem to drive to Oregon every month and actually, she is pretty close to correct. Once you get away from the Bay Area and past the Sacramento Valley, the landscape becomes more interesting along Shasta Lake and through the Siskyou Mountains. My favorite part is always the appearance of Mount Shasta on the horizon.
After getting off the interstate in a town called Weed (go ahead, giggle), California, the road continues north and east toward Oregon. On the way, is the grasslands of Butte Valley, green and watery in the spring and dry and golden toward the end of summer. I find many people are surprised to learn that Central Oregon is actually quite dry, unlike the rest of the state on the west side of the Cascade mountains.
I could almost do this drive in my sleep, but this time, unlike most, my final destination is not Bend, Oregon. For the first time, I continue past Bend, without even stopping. The sun is setting in velvety waves of color behind the silhouette of several dark and pointy Cascade mountaintops. We are just outside Madras, Oregon driving through lovely countryside, with large irrigation sprinklers spraying rosy sprays of water over golden fields.
The first stop on our Great American Road Trip is Hood River, Oregon. Hood River is about 60 miles east of Portland with a population of about 7,000. It is on the banks of the great Columbia River, along the Columbia River Gorge, some of the most scenic landscape in America. We arrive at our motel late and a less than full moon is hanging low and golden orange in the sky. Tomorrow, we explore Hood River.
Despite baking in the sun, I do like the drive to Oregon. My sister mentioned to me that I seem to drive to Oregon every month and actually, she is pretty close to correct. Once you get away from the Bay Area and past the Sacramento Valley, the landscape becomes more interesting along Shasta Lake and through the Siskyou Mountains. My favorite part is always the appearance of Mount Shasta on the horizon.
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| Mount Shasta |
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| Poppy |
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| Butte Valley |
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| The California-Oregon border |
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| Dry Oregon |
I could almost do this drive in my sleep, but this time, unlike most, my final destination is not Bend, Oregon. For the first time, I continue past Bend, without even stopping. The sun is setting in velvety waves of color behind the silhouette of several dark and pointy Cascade mountaintops. We are just outside Madras, Oregon driving through lovely countryside, with large irrigation sprinklers spraying rosy sprays of water over golden fields.
The first stop on our Great American Road Trip is Hood River, Oregon. Hood River is about 60 miles east of Portland with a population of about 7,000. It is on the banks of the great Columbia River, along the Columbia River Gorge, some of the most scenic landscape in America. We arrive at our motel late and a less than full moon is hanging low and golden orange in the sky. Tomorrow, we explore Hood River.
March 28, 2012
Poppy's First Day at the Beach
Poppy has been driving us CRAZY. The vet said that next Monday we can start taking her out to the parks but until then we could take her to some of the cleaner beaches north or south of the city.
It has been raining and raining. I decided, after she drove me out of my mind, that rain or shine we were going to the beach the next. Fortunately for us, it was a beautiful day and unexpectedly warm at the ocean. We headed south of the city to Montara Beach. It was great. She was reluctant about the water (the surf is rough and the water cold) and I had to pick her really fast up one time when an unexpectedly large wave came crashing in, soaking most of my legs. Now, she has been curled up in her bed most of the evening!
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| I like this running around. |
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| Get this sand off of me! |
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| Do we really need this 30 foot leash? |
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| I'm tired. I just want lay out and listen to the ocean. |
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| I found a beach toy! Are you going to take it from me? |
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| Chewing while being photographed. |
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| You can't take away this toy! |
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| We did lots and lots and lots of running today! |
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| Right when we were about to leave I remembered I love to dig! |
February 05, 2012
Foggy Morning Along Tomales Bay
The alarm went off at 5 a.m. I jumped out of bed, turned it off and went back to bed where I lay, not sleeping, battling with myself.
Do I really needed to get out of bed this early to see the early morning light along Tomales Bay?
Isn't it going to be just as rewarding if I get there later in the day?
You said you wanted to do this, some voice reminded me.
I did, I did, but that compelling other voice in my head is tempting me with more sleep.
This is what happens every time, the voice said again, and you always regret it.
I jumped out of bed, it was 6 a.m. I rushed around and was out the door with my camera equipment, coffee, and packed lunch by 6:30 a.m. From my front step, I could see the light already emerging from somewhere behind the buildings of downtown to the east. This is still too late in the morning to get started, 5 a.m. would have been a better time. I head over the Golden Gate Bridge and then on back roads through Lucas Valley and Nicasio Valley (I stopped here for some foggy photos that counter my previous post, I will hopefully post them soon) and the town of Point Reyes Station and finally on Sir Francis Drake Boulevard along Tomales Bay.
I stopped at several pullouts, clustered near the town of Inverness. The fog was lifting from the long, narrow bay. The sun was rising through and above the fog. Morning was already here. I was a little too late, but it was still great. I made a mental note of this and reminded myself I will only have to get up earlier and earlier until June to really have the opportunity for the best light of the day.
Its worth it.
The rest of my day was spent on the eastern edge of Point Reyes National Seashore. More to come on that.
Do I really needed to get out of bed this early to see the early morning light along Tomales Bay?
Isn't it going to be just as rewarding if I get there later in the day?
You said you wanted to do this, some voice reminded me.
I did, I did, but that compelling other voice in my head is tempting me with more sleep.
This is what happens every time, the voice said again, and you always regret it.
I jumped out of bed, it was 6 a.m. I rushed around and was out the door with my camera equipment, coffee, and packed lunch by 6:30 a.m. From my front step, I could see the light already emerging from somewhere behind the buildings of downtown to the east. This is still too late in the morning to get started, 5 a.m. would have been a better time. I head over the Golden Gate Bridge and then on back roads through Lucas Valley and Nicasio Valley (I stopped here for some foggy photos that counter my previous post, I will hopefully post them soon) and the town of Point Reyes Station and finally on Sir Francis Drake Boulevard along Tomales Bay.
I stopped at several pullouts, clustered near the town of Inverness. The fog was lifting from the long, narrow bay. The sun was rising through and above the fog. Morning was already here. I was a little too late, but it was still great. I made a mental note of this and reminded myself I will only have to get up earlier and earlier until June to really have the opportunity for the best light of the day.
Its worth it.
The rest of my day was spent on the eastern edge of Point Reyes National Seashore. More to come on that.
January 31, 2012
My Unexpectedly Short Trip Through Nicasio Valley
My steering wheel was shaking. That's what you can expect from a 14 year old car with no power steering, right? Its been doing this for a while but last Tuesday it started to concern me and I got a tire blow out later that day. It seems like it has gotten worse. I continue down highway 101 north anyway and exit at Lucas Valley Road. My car roughly rounds the tight curves, winding its way up into the hills. Each shake of the steering wheel creates a loud thud, which is worse when I pull the wheel to the left. I take it slow.
The road makes its way out of the large waves of grass covered hills into a magnificent stretch of tall redwoods. It is dark and quiet and mysterious, where we might discover the secrets that our soul may not reveal, even to ourselves. Here, these things can find their way out.
The road exits the redwoods to sprawling, rolling hills and a layer of fog. I turn down Nicasio Valley Road and stop in the tiny village of Nicasio. Fields meet village, coming right up to the edge of town.
There are less than ten buildings here, in the middle of nowhere, and one of them happens to be a church I like. I ask myself why I have always been enamored by this church. It is quaint and charming and dropped into the middle of poetic landscape.
The rest of the town is also intriguing, a hint of an older time, perhaps, and a contrast to the way of life just ten miles away. There are men exiting from a restaurant and getting into their trucks and I wonder what they do here, what is their day like?
There is an oak tree and a field that intrigues me, so I creep along the edge of the fence and try to make some images. This is why I came out here, to discover what might be waiting.
Back on the road, it takes me around Nicasio Reservoir and eventually to the town of Point Reyes Station, where I stop for a quick snack at the bakery. I linger and wonder if I could live here. It is beautiful and rural and quiet and not too far from the city. We are looking for a quieter place where we feel at home.
Continuing towards the coast with increasing fog and decreasing chance at any vista at all, I finally stop at a gravel lot, worried about my car, and call my Dad. Yup, I still call my Dad about car trouble as he is an excellent source of information. His diagnosis: its either a ball joint or a wheel bearing and I should probably turn around.
I am disappointed and worried as I slowly make my way back. I am, however, lured to stop a couple more times in Nicasio Valley to capture a few more images for the day. It often happens that I see something when I am driving and I let it pass. I regret this, as I am not sure where I am in such a hurry to get to, and isn't this what I out here today to do?
I make it safely back to the city, relieved. The next day the mechanic informs me that the wheel bearing needs to be replaced and the tire is beginning to separate. Different and unrelated issues, since the tire was probably damaged after hitting a bad pot hole and explains the blow out of the other other tire on the same side. Thanks Dad for your wisdom.
All in all, it wasn't the day I had hoped for, but it was a day and it had its upsides and here it is.
The road makes its way out of the large waves of grass covered hills into a magnificent stretch of tall redwoods. It is dark and quiet and mysterious, where we might discover the secrets that our soul may not reveal, even to ourselves. Here, these things can find their way out.
The road exits the redwoods to sprawling, rolling hills and a layer of fog. I turn down Nicasio Valley Road and stop in the tiny village of Nicasio. Fields meet village, coming right up to the edge of town.
There are less than ten buildings here, in the middle of nowhere, and one of them happens to be a church I like. I ask myself why I have always been enamored by this church. It is quaint and charming and dropped into the middle of poetic landscape.
The rest of the town is also intriguing, a hint of an older time, perhaps, and a contrast to the way of life just ten miles away. There are men exiting from a restaurant and getting into their trucks and I wonder what they do here, what is their day like?
There is an oak tree and a field that intrigues me, so I creep along the edge of the fence and try to make some images. This is why I came out here, to discover what might be waiting.
Back on the road, it takes me around Nicasio Reservoir and eventually to the town of Point Reyes Station, where I stop for a quick snack at the bakery. I linger and wonder if I could live here. It is beautiful and rural and quiet and not too far from the city. We are looking for a quieter place where we feel at home.
Continuing towards the coast with increasing fog and decreasing chance at any vista at all, I finally stop at a gravel lot, worried about my car, and call my Dad. Yup, I still call my Dad about car trouble as he is an excellent source of information. His diagnosis: its either a ball joint or a wheel bearing and I should probably turn around.
I am disappointed and worried as I slowly make my way back. I am, however, lured to stop a couple more times in Nicasio Valley to capture a few more images for the day. It often happens that I see something when I am driving and I let it pass. I regret this, as I am not sure where I am in such a hurry to get to, and isn't this what I out here today to do?
I make it safely back to the city, relieved. The next day the mechanic informs me that the wheel bearing needs to be replaced and the tire is beginning to separate. Different and unrelated issues, since the tire was probably damaged after hitting a bad pot hole and explains the blow out of the other other tire on the same side. Thanks Dad for your wisdom.
All in all, it wasn't the day I had hoped for, but it was a day and it had its upsides and here it is.
December 14, 2011
View From Above
I have a lot of flying dreams. They are so vivid that I swear my body remembers the sensation of flying (which is always like swimming through the air). My father's passion is flying airplanes. He wanted to be a fighter jet pilot and was forever scarred the day he was twelve and got eyeglasses. Even to this day my father is affected deeply by this turn of events in his life and still talks about how much he wished he could fly in a fighter jet, just once, and experience what it is like to do a roll in the air, just because you can.
As kids, my father would take us up in small two-seater airplanes and sometimes we would fly over our house. That was the coolest thing. A couple of years ago I went up in a helicopter for the first time at the helicopter museum in West Chester, Pennsylvania. My grandfather, who built and worked for helicopter companies the vast majority of his career, helped start the helicopter museum. That helicopter ride was an amazing experience.
I travel to Bend, Oregon many times a year. I usually drive except in the winter when conditions can be too wintry for such a long journye. A couple of weeks ago I flew from San Francisco to Bend. I love this flight because you fly in a small jet at such a low altitude that you can experience all the sights (and more) you see on the drive, from above. For me, it is magical. I hope you enjoy the journey in photographs. See the map below for a sometimes rough estimate of each photograph point.
View Larger Map
I turn on my DSLR the second after the attendant announces, "It is now safe to use approved, electronic devices." This was the best shot of San Francisco I could get at this stage in the flight. I like finding my street and all the familiar places in the city. Here, you can see the long stretch of San Francisco beach, the Bay Bridge, the Golden Gate Bridge, the rectangular Golden Gate Park and Alcatraz, which looks much smaller than I pictured from the ground.
We head north and east and pass over the East Bay where you can see Golden Gate Fields Racetrack, part of the Berkeley Hills, Richmond and towards San Rafael.
It took me a little while to realize that this is Napa Valley. The rectangle at the bottom left corner is Yountville and the body of water on the right, center is Lake Hennessey. You can see north up the valley all the way to St. Helena. The vines would probably have leaves on them that have turned fall colors or maybe they have shriveled up by now.
This is the edge of Lake Berryessa where Berryessa-Knoxville Road crosses two bridges. The surrounding hills look relatively vacant over Napa County's largest lake.
Between Clearlake and Interstate 5 is this small mountain range. I drove through some of these hills last spring in search of wildflowers.
On my drives to Bend, I often get glimpses of the Sacramento River and I am always amazed at how long it runs. One of my favorite parts of the drive is around Lake Shasta. I always make my halfway stop in Redding for gas and a break. Then I get to enjoy the amazing scenery around the blue waters, mountains and inlets of Lake Shasta. I think it is actually more beautiful from the ground.
When Interstate 5 gets to the town of Weed (yes there is a town called Weed) you get on Highway 97 to drive to Bend. This is where the drive gets really remote, but it is here that you are treated to the vistas of the looming Mount Shasta.
After leaving the hills around Mount Shasta you enter Butte Valley, a dry valley of irrigated farmland.
Just over the Oregon border, the farmland changes a bit and you can see the difference a state funded irrigation program makes in the landscape.
Continue on and soon you will be over the city of Klamath Falls, the first city since Redding.
The most amazing sight for me on the whole trip was seeing Crater Lake from the plane. It was truly amazing. When you visit the lake and look down from the rim, it feels like you are looking so far down. I never realized that the surface of the lake is actually at such a high elevation.
Between Crater Lake and Bend, there is a lot of pine forests and then lava fields. The most striking thing in Bend is the view of Mount Bachelor and the Three Sisters, one of my favorite vistas!
As kids, my father would take us up in small two-seater airplanes and sometimes we would fly over our house. That was the coolest thing. A couple of years ago I went up in a helicopter for the first time at the helicopter museum in West Chester, Pennsylvania. My grandfather, who built and worked for helicopter companies the vast majority of his career, helped start the helicopter museum. That helicopter ride was an amazing experience.
I travel to Bend, Oregon many times a year. I usually drive except in the winter when conditions can be too wintry for such a long journye. A couple of weeks ago I flew from San Francisco to Bend. I love this flight because you fly in a small jet at such a low altitude that you can experience all the sights (and more) you see on the drive, from above. For me, it is magical. I hope you enjoy the journey in photographs. See the map below for a sometimes rough estimate of each photograph point.
View Larger Map
I turn on my DSLR the second after the attendant announces, "It is now safe to use approved, electronic devices." This was the best shot of San Francisco I could get at this stage in the flight. I like finding my street and all the familiar places in the city. Here, you can see the long stretch of San Francisco beach, the Bay Bridge, the Golden Gate Bridge, the rectangular Golden Gate Park and Alcatraz, which looks much smaller than I pictured from the ground.
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| A: San Francisco, the Bay and the Marin Headlands |
We head north and east and pass over the East Bay where you can see Golden Gate Fields Racetrack, part of the Berkeley Hills, Richmond and towards San Rafael.
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| B: The East Bay |
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| C: Further north at the edge of the Bay, near American Canyon. |
It took me a little while to realize that this is Napa Valley. The rectangle at the bottom left corner is Yountville and the body of water on the right, center is Lake Hennessey. You can see north up the valley all the way to St. Helena. The vines would probably have leaves on them that have turned fall colors or maybe they have shriveled up by now.
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| D: Napa Valley |
This is the edge of Lake Berryessa where Berryessa-Knoxville Road crosses two bridges. The surrounding hills look relatively vacant over Napa County's largest lake.
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| E: Lake Berryessa |
Between Clearlake and Interstate 5 is this small mountain range. I drove through some of these hills last spring in search of wildflowers.
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| F: Hills East of Clearlake |
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| G: A valley somewhere in the hills west of Arbuckle. |
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| H: Hills and farmland north of Willows |
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| I: The Sacramento River near the town of Proberta |
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| J: Lake Shasta, north of Redding |
When Interstate 5 gets to the town of Weed (yes there is a town called Weed) you get on Highway 97 to drive to Bend. This is where the drive gets really remote, but it is here that you are treated to the vistas of the looming Mount Shasta.
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| K: Mount Shasta |
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| L: Snow fields in the foothills of Mount Shasta |
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| M: Southeast of Macdoel at Robison and Technor Roads |
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| N: A view of the town of Macdoel and Meiss Lake in the distance |
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| O: Oregon farmland just over the border |
Continue on and soon you will be over the city of Klamath Falls, the first city since Redding.
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| P: Just north of Klamath Falls, the Upper Klamath Lake |
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| Q: West of Chiloquin on Sprague River Road |
The most amazing sight for me on the whole trip was seeing Crater Lake from the plane. It was truly amazing. When you visit the lake and look down from the rim, it feels like you are looking so far down. I never realized that the surface of the lake is actually at such a high elevation.
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| R: Crater Lake |
Between Crater Lake and Bend, there is a lot of pine forests and then lava fields. The most striking thing in Bend is the view of Mount Bachelor and the Three Sisters, one of my favorite vistas!
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| S: Mount Bachelor and the Three Sisters |
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