O Ansel, Ansel! Wherefore Art Thou Ansel?

Yosemite Valley as seen from the Tunnel View on State Route 41.

Lower Yosemite Falls

Lower Yosemite Falls

Freshly snow-covered tree in Yosemite National Park in Wawona.

The Chilnualna River.

Melting snow falling past the last leaf.

A set of handprints left on a snow-covered boulder in Yosemite National Park.

Light and shadows play on the trunk of a tree in Yosemite National Park.

The Chilnualna River.

Snow-covered boulders in Yosemite National Park.

This past weekend I visited Yosemite National Park with family and friends. And for three days I pointed my camera and wondered what to photograph. The beauty was simply overwhelming at times and part of me hated the 4 gig card loaded in my camera.

The fact that I could turn on the motor drive and blaze away seemed almost, well, photographically sacrilegious. Notwithstanding, I had in fact earlier in the day, made photos with the Hipstamactic application on my iPhone,

I still felt hesitant to actually...push the shutter release...and...make the photo. I was further challenged by the notion that I should not shoot the same photos as every other tourist in Yosemite that day. And even though I did "make a photo" of the iconic view of Yosemite Valley from atop State Route 41, I challenged myself to find a different Yosemite, a Yosemite that was meaningful to me...defined by the experience of sharing it with my friends and family.

Winter's Coat

Winter wears itself upon the land like a badge of pride. It says, "I've been here for time immortal. I visit each year and lay my coat of hibernation upon your lands. The trees have learned to bend...not break. The grasses have learned to sleep...not die. And the waters have learned to lay still...not ran dry. Life lays still beneath my coat waiting to return.Waiting to blossom. Soon as the days growing longs and the nights shorter, I will return to the North to sleep. My sister, Spring, will awaken the land. She will thaw the waters. She will breath life upon the grasses. She will straighten the trees. And she will restore hope to the lives of those who live off the land.

A Touch of Frost

Right now the temperature outside is 21.6 degrees...Fahrenheit. I'm in Spokane, Washington at Fairchild Air Force Base on a short tour of military duty. More on that later. When I arrived it was doing something between sleeting and snowing. I thought it was all very cool. The taxi driver, Bill, that brought me out to the Air Force base thought I was out of my mind.

"Where you from?" Bill asked. He'd been watching me stare out the window and grinning like a kid on a school field trip.

"Southern California." I replied...somewhat sheepishly realizing this guy made a living driving in this weather.

"Ah huh, thought so. You Californians." He snorted.

"But, I grew up over in Vancouver." I shared, trying to find some common ground.

"Really! Me too! But it rained too much for me over there."

I am starting to lose the point of this conversation.

"So I moved out to Spokane." Bill said, now looking at me differently.

For the rest of the ride we shared stories of growing up in Vancouver, where we went to school and comparing names to see if we knew any of the same people. It was a nice ride and I made Bill laugh when I told him my mom used to make my brother and me scrub the moss off the driveway that had grown on the concrete over the Winter.

"Yeah, it rains a lot there. Damn snow!" Said Bill, looking at me like I'd lost my mind. But, he was smiling.