Chamonix, Mt. Blanc and the Mer de Glace
December 28, 2009
The birds were singing, the sun was shining, and it was time to venture out on a “village perche” trek after so many days of Christmas in our beautiful rented house. My true love gave to me the driving to Chamonix, while I sat and took pictures of the Alps at fairly high speed (both in the camera and from the Daewoo).
Driving into Chamonix was simply spectacular, and it was such fun to see the mountains in the winter time after summers of watching melting snow. There are mountains on both sides of the road, and it’s hard to know where to focus.
From the highway, with a wide angle lens
The first thing that struck us was how much colder it was, and after lunch we put on long underwear…a really good idea. The trip up the train was crowded and fast, and after passing the ski area, we began to notice that many of the pine trees seemed to be in distress. Is it the result of acid rain or something else?
Chamonix
Downtown Chamonix
Sick pine trees
At the top, the views are breathtaking, but the glacier has been shrinking drastically in my lifetime. The first time I visited the Mer de Glace was in 1966. From the top, looking down, it’s obviously reduced in size. After checking out the top spot and all the vistas, we descended on the tele cabine, and then began the 350 step descent to the bottom. I secretly laughed at the people passing on their way up who seemed to be panting. There were people carrying their dogs in arms. It wouldn’t have been easy with Lester and Earl, golden retrievers, but little poofy French dogs do well being carried. Still, while missing Bella, the wonderful wonder dog, we were glad that she as at home visiting her friend Phoebe.
Looking down from the top
Another family portrait
Summit
Previous line of the glacier
Climbers
Entrance to the cave
At the bottom (it takes some time to climb down 350 steps) we realized that we would have to hurry in the glacier caves, since the last ascent of the tele cabine is at 4:00, and it was then 3:30, with 350 steps to climb first.
The color show inside the glacier is fast paced and I was so happy to have a camera that can shoot at 5000 ISO. There is an ice fireplace, and a polar bear sculpture, and I admired the guy taking pictures using his tripod. I certainly didn’t envy him his trip back up those steps.
In the cave
Polar bear sculpture
Light at the end of the tunnel
All too soon, it was time to leave so as not to be stranded on the mountain. As you can imagine, the trip up, with snow, cold and camera gear was difficult, yet exhilarating.
At the risk of sounding political, it is truly frightening to see what has become of the Mer de Glace in my lifetime. It is still awe inspiring, but there is something funereal about signs we saw along the way: the lack of very much snow, the sick pine trees and the glacier itself.
Farges, France: A Holiday Tale, Week One
December 26, 2009
Who would have thought that when we “bought” two weeks in a French house at Christmas last April, that December 19th would finally arrive? From the abstract to the sublime, it finally is now!
It all began with a rushed driving trip from Winston-Salem to Dulles Airport in Washington, D.C. despite all kinds of weather warnings. As it worked out, the blizzard hit the east coast within hours of our departure. Whew!
Geneva was really cold when we landed, and we found about three inches of snow in France when we arrived at our fantastic house, complete with beautiful Christmas decorations and wonderful dog, Bella. It had always been lonely on trips before without a resident canine, so we’ve been in heaven with a small bed/ lap dog. We’re cozily settled in with a fire in the fireplace, but alas, probably no skiing.
Savoy cabbage
Snowy scene
Annecy shopping
Romanian cabbage
Swans of Annecy
Purple Christmas lights in Annecy
More purple lights
Lac d'Annecy
Buche de Noel
Sunrise at home
Bella, wonder dog
You CAN Go Home Again!
August 12, 2009
In two months’ time, we have gone from home in North Carolina to Coeur d’Alene, Idaho, Kent/Northumberland, England, San Francisco/Berkeley, California and New Haven, Connecticut. All of it was wonderful, full of laughter and family and friends and way too much food. It has been a busy whirlwind of old times and new times, of special time with our grown up children and grandgirls, and visits with our mentors. There were obligations along the way, but wonderful activities that we just had to be part of. The days began to feel as if they were spinning out of control.
So…what to do about it, with a week of summer vacation to go before teaching, for each of us? The beach, Sunset Beach, here in our home state of North Carolina beckoned to our long term memories, and amazingly, there was a house, a small bargain house, just waiting to be rented at the last minute.
The instant we got out of our car and smelled the salt air and felt the penetrating sun on our backs, we knew that we had done the right thing. The familiarity after ten years’ absence has been amazing. All of the trips over the years to exotic and foreign places have been remarkable, but we had forgotten about the value of being close to home.
Stairway to Heaven
Sunset Beach Pier at dawn
Pier with Egyptian design
Gone fishing
Sunrise at Sunset
Marsh grass in back of our house
Sun Worshipper
Of course, we miss our family of old when Sage and John came with us, and sometimes brought their buddies here. We have reminisced about the shared dinners and the used up hot water, but right now we’re reveling in working on course syllabi and catching up on books and emails and camera manuals without any responsibilities. Best of all, after a summer of new beds every few days, we’ve totally relearned how to relax.
We CAN go home, and we did. North Carolinians tend to explain away their summers by apologetically saying, “We’re just going to the beach this summer.” JUST the beach?
Summer is Winding Down, Isn’t It?
July 31, 2009
This has been the summer of birds, bikes, brides and brilliance. It is with real sadness that I realize the days are getting shorter, and school’s right on the horizon, but the start up of every school year is magical and exhilarating. I’m just not ready…yet!
Since my last blog about birds, the bird theme has continued. Last week we traveled to Berkeley and San Francisco to visit John and Mattie. While climbing down from Coit Tower, high up on Telegraph Hill, we heard the famous wild parrots. They even flew over the tops of our heads, but it was impossible to take a picture before they were gone, elusive as they must be. Sorry Homer, I couldn’t capture your cousins, as much as I wanted to.
A Family Portrait at the beach
There were brides in our hotel, the wonderful Claremont Resort in Berkeley, and we saw at least three wedding receptions getting in gear in the lobby. I celebrated once again that I’m not a wedding photographer! There were plenty of them all around, looking stressed and serious.
Bikes began the summer with the Ironman in Coeur d’Alene, and bikes, highly stylized ones, were a big part of the four days in California. John, our son, is a journalist and video producer, and he had an important job on Saturday, to videotape and report on a Scraper Bike celebration. The video is finished as of today, and instead of me reporting about it, you must, dear reader, travel through this link to that experience. Mattie (a talented photographer) and I got out our cameras, and our shots are used in John’s video, but it’s his moving shots and music that “make” the experience. I’m in awe of the job he did with this, all while holding a video camera and skating backwards on inline skates. Consider carrying a borrowed video camera worth thousands of dollars on skates… I guess journalists do whatever it takes to get the story, whatever the story.
http://www.streetfilms.org/archives/scraper-bikes/
Other highlights of the trip were a trip to Sonoma, including a visit to a wine tasting, and the giant redwood trees in Armstrong State Park.
Nap under the redwoods
On our last full day, Billy went to Mattie’s French class, where I’m sure he talked too much, and I went to Link TV with John, where I watched him get covered in makeup, and then make a videotape asking for money (some things never change!!!!!)
Asking for money at Link TV
The last night, we took John and Mattie to a four star vegan restaurant in San Francisco, called Millennium, where we celebrated their second anniversary with organic vodka and organic espresso and amazing vegetables and grains. My starter was Fried Green Tomatoes with spicy Creole remoulade, arugula, roasted corn and leek confit salad. Main course was Mediterranean Stuffed Ronde de Nice Squash with bulgur, beluga lentil and walnut farce, sautee of roasted cherry tomato, zucchini and English peas, za’atar spiced tahini cucumber pickle, cardamom and parsley zhug, crisp capers and fried squash blossoms. It was an amazing experience. It certainly eclipsed tofurki. What a wonderful restaurant!
Blueberry glazed smoked tempeh
Seared Potato Scallion Cake
Mediterranean Stuffed Ronde de Nice Squash
Oh, to be starving grad students again…Or, perhaps not starving, after all…
Move Over, Alfred Hitchcock: A Bird Tale
July 11, 2009
Well, it’s been a whole week since the Farne Island experience in Northeast England. “See puffins, terns, seagulls and other nesting birds,” the brochure read. Oh boy, I thought, I’ll take my longest lens, convince my landloving husband to ride on a small boat across rough seas to Inner Farne, natural habitat and bird sanctuary just off the shores of Bamburgh, Northumberland. There will be amazing photo opportunities, a sort of secret place that no one has ever heard of. And, the National Trust keeps it protected from too many tourists, since it’s kind of expensive. I could hardly sleep the night before (actually, that was the case the whole trip!) and I was thrilled in the morning to find sunshine early.
Our boat left at 12:15, allowing us time until the 1:30 opening time on Inner Farne to cruise around seals and the other uninhabited islands in the Farne group. I thought I was so smart with my camera loaded with a 400mm lens, albeit not a great birding lens. We even carried my tripod, a big pain. I should have known, as I looked around the boat, that other people had the same idea. There was a golden couple, the most attractive travelers I’d seen, armed with huge Canon cameras, hiking boots and warm looking parkas. They were Australians, on an 8 week holiday in England and Turkey. The economy must be better in Australia than in the States, I concluded quickly to myself. But, they sure look like they know what they’re doing, I decided.
After circumnavigating the less significant islands, seeing the begging seals and noticing the smell of guano of the seagulls and razorbills, and guillemots, we finally approached Inner Farne. There were four or five other boats in the harbor, but still no alarms were going off in my head. “Wear your hats, everyone,” the boat captain warned us, as we approached the dock.
A view of the cliffs from the boat
The handsome dock hand
An incredibly handsome dock hand greeted us, and told us to be careful not to step on any just hatched baby chicks on the walkways. The nesting terns were in the middle of the hatching season. That was an understatement. Babies were everywhere, as were their stressed and divebombing parents, who aimed directly for our heads and expensive camera equipment.
Tern chick
Hatchlings emerging
Protective parent hovering over the nest
Tern dinner
It took 30 seconds to realize that a major photography workshop (s) were/was going on there on Inner Farne. There were huge tripods and camera lenses covered in camouflage that must cost $10,000! Pride goeth before a fall, I realized, and how insignificant and amateurish I am. I couldn’t even figure out where to try to aim my camera, what with 100 photographers in a very small space, and baby chicks underfoot, and shrieking nesting terns crashing against my head. My husband quickly disappeared, and I wondered if he’d been knocked out by a stressed bird. In fact, when I finally found him, he claimed to be cold, and I began to notice that a blue sky was turning to no color, and then gray at the horizon. At least we aren’t dealing with summer midday sun, I thought.
Wandering up the path, after enduring aerial assaults constantly, there was suddenly a sort of clearing, and then the puffin area! What comic relief. I even tried to ignore the man with the huge lens and a Nikon Professional shirt. I wondered who he is…someone really famous?
The Sigmund Freud model
Very quickly I realized that setting up the tripod would take time on those rocks, and I had forgotten the hex wrench and the foot on my lens was loose. It wasn’t a good time to have an argument with my spouse, who goes through life trying to fix things, especially since the clock was ticking and I only had half an hour left. So, hand held it was going to be, despite his loud protestations. Besides, I didn’t want Mr. Nikon Professional to even notice me.
The island was basically stone, but it was covered with weeds and there were small holes everywhere, which was shelter and egg hatching ground for the puffins.
Sand eels for dinner
Three Little Puffins
Group conversation
Odd Man Out
The weeds became beautiful over the hour or so we were on the island, and the Queen Anne’s Lace and thistles and chicory provided color in an otherwise colorless environment. Most amazing of all was a small church on Inner Farne, an ancient church, with beautiful strained glass and carved pews. What a juxtaposition of nature and culture in a tiny hostile place!
Church on Inner Farne with mist coming in
An unlikely place for stained glass
Ancient church
The guide on the boat over said that a banded puffin from Inner Farne had shown up in New South Wales, Australia. Is that possible? Had I been a bird on Inner Farne, I probably would have looked for a new house, too, what with the overpopulation of avians.
Looking back, I would have done things differently, specifically I would have tried to isolate the puffins more successfully, since a whole field of puffins gives the viewer a difficult time of where to look. I would have changed lenses to my 70-200 midway through, since getting up close to birds wasn’t a problem. Ha! Hardly! They got REALLY close. I would have worn a hardhat, and I would have changed apertures with great abandon. It was an amazing experience.
Just before we got back on the boat, we had to walk through the minefield again of terns. My husband acted totally unfazed by a particularly aggressive tern, and even stuck out his hand and thumb in an uncomplicated gesture showing his lack of fear. I realized at that moment that Billy was missing Homer, his African Grey parrot.
Hat's off to this experience
I have no problem with this
Napoleon did this
There must be something intellectual about this
Oh dear. If Joni could see this...
Head scratch
Homer plays this game with me...
Farne Island sentinel
The trip back to the mainland was shrouded in grey mist, and as we closed the doors of the rented car, the skies opened up. Didn’t the birds find cover in the driving rain?
Hat’s Off to Fascinators (Revisited)
July 7, 2009
Miracle of miracles, yesterday’s lost files of the wedding in England were found on my external hard drive. Jet lag does weird things to me, and I realized early yesterday that operating heavy machinery wasn’t a good idea, nor should I have had anything to do with photography or computers, but after 3 weeks without my favorite vices, I just HAD to download those files. Bad idea!
I decided early on at the wedding to focus on hats and head coverings, particularly because the bride wanted all of us to wear them. Some English hats are enormous, and I’ve always been in awe of the Queen and English ladies at horse races who manage to keep hats on their heads, despite the obvious inclement weather so much of the time. One can hide a multitude of imperfections under a wide brimmed hat. So why is the new trend the fascinator?
Because we were going to the Ironman first in Idaho, and then directly to Kent, I realized early that I couldn’t manage a full sized hat, baggage, and 50 pounds of camera gear. Internet saved the day, and you can imagine the jubilation I felt when I realized that there’s a place in Royal Tunbridge Wells called Felicity Hat Hire. The day before the wedding, armed with my dress, we visited Felicity’s, and it was an amazing experience. The saleslady put on a pair of white gloves, and began putting whipped cream creations on my head.We left Felicity Hat Hire with a beautiful hat box, 25 British pounds ($$$) lighter, with the promise that the fascinator would be returned early Saturday morning. I only regret now that I didn’t buy one!!!!
So, here are some fascinators from the wedding in Kent. Don’t you want one, too??????
Now, just to be fair, here are three full sized hats:
This mom provides shade for her 3 week old baby!
Amen.
Fascinator, terminator or a tale of woe…
July 6, 2009
After nearly three weeks on the road, it’s back to the computer and all the excitement of downloading files onto my big computer and off of the laptop. The monitor sure makes a difference, unless you’re as disabled by jetlag as I seem to be. I think I’ve lost several days’ worth of files, including ALL of the 400 wedding shots in England, which I dragged into Lightroom but seemingly failed to back up. All that I have left are about eight shots that I emailed to Sage, and all of them in my Lightroom “Library”, which indicates that the files are offline or missing! It sure is a good thing that I’m not a wedding photographer!
Fiona, the bride
Champagne reception
Mum with her large hat
The wedding was beautiful, held in a castle in Penshurst, Kent, England. The bride is gorgeous, the groom is handsome, and the bridal party spectacular. The English folks we met were warm and humorous. The wedding began at 2:30 in an ancient church, and when we left at 11:30, the band was cranked up and was still very loud. There was no sign that the wedding would ever end. Perhaps it hasn’t! We agreed that it was the most memorable wedding ever (good thing, since my files aren’t included in my computer’s memory!).
A Fascinator (aka Terminator)
Perhaps the most fun part of my phantom photography was photographing women’s hats, particularly fascinators. Instead of everyone wearing a huge hat, the new trend is toward a frothy creation worn on top of one’s head, usually held by a headband kind of thing. I even RENTED one myself at a store just across the street from our hotel. My heart is broken that I can only show you, my faithful reader, one, rather than the collage I was going to create for these pages. Most fascinators have some sort of feather or spiky effect, many are translucent and have bows or fruit or other embellishment
There were several kilts at the ceremony
and they made me laugh for hours and hours. I certainly hope that they become a trend here in the United States, because we could use some frivolity these days.
Move over, Gatsby
If EVER you have the excuse to travel to England for such a celebration, for heaven’s sake go! And if you take shots, and use Lightroom, be certain that you’ve backed up to your external hard drive. I’d do it all over again, even without the shots.
If life is like a candle bright…
June 24, 2009
This is Sage’s Dad, chiming in at the suggestion of Cindy, Sage’s Mom. I’ve never blogged before, and I probably never will again, although I often teach about words like “blog” in my Linguistics Intro course at Wake Forest: such words are called “clippings” but the funny and perplexing thing about “blog” is that it got clipped at the wrong place, at a spot where no other word I know of has gotten clipped. There’s just no logic in cutting off the first two ingredients of the morpheme “web” and leaving the “b” to attach itself to “log.”
Anyway, when I was called upon to behold Sage’s accomplishments of last weekend, two thoughts came to mind. The first is not maudlin, the second is.
My first thought was that at the age of 13, Sage came home from school and said something like this: “Dad, it’s not fair: in PE class, if you can jump 12 feet you get an A, if it’s 10 feet, it’s a B, if it’s 8, you get a C.” I said “Life isn’t fair. You weren’t meant to jump 12.”
Obviously I was wrong. She just jumped the equivalent of 15 feet.
I was taught by my father never to say “I’m proud” because “Pride goeth before a fall”, said my Dad. So I have never said that to Sage, nor about Sage. However, I am the following: amazed, choked up, incredulous, baffled, stirred, even shaken, with apologies to James Bond.
The second thought comes from a rather obscure Country Song. Here are some of its words:
If life is like a candle bright, Death must be the wind; You can close your window tight, But it still comes rolling in.
So I will climb the highest hill, And watch the setting sun, And pray that I won’t feel the chill, Till I’m too old to die young!!
Chorus: Let me watch my children grow, To see what they become; Lord, don’t let that cold wind blow, Till I’m Too Old to Die Young.
As I sign off from this, my one and only blog, I want to express gratitude to fate that I got to see what my children became. It is all wonderful.
Billy Hamilton, father of Sage.
The Ironman of Coeur d’Alene, aka Iron Woman
June 22, 2009
Tranquil state two days before the race
Splash!
Roiling
Peeling off the wetsuit
Wes's shot of Sage starting bike competition
Sage whizzing by the girls
Finish Line after 13 hours!
After days of anticipation (and months of preparation for the athletes) yesterday’s dawn brought the start of Ironman 2009 in Idaho. Our only daughter was a couch potato in her teens, and it’s mind-boggling to see the transformation of the kid we we’ve always known to an analytical athlete, conditioned and nutritionally savvy. Still, as a mom, I was worried as I watched the sea of swimmers (2,000 plus!) crowd each other into the water, especially as the main PA announcer started talking about the 2 hour 20 minute cut off for the 2.4 mile swim in 65 degree water. I teared up several times. Fortunately, I was busy with my camera and enjoying Rick and Terri, who had traveled a long distance to experience the Ironman, too, after watching the bicycle part from Terri’s mom’s cabin for the past 4 years or so.
As the swimmers were off, the sea was alive, the way it might be with a swarm of string rays or roiling fish. There was no discerning who was passing by, because of the sea of red caps-the men, and white caps-the women, but it was interesting when each athlete came out of the water, and either turned right (they had completed two laps) or left (there was another lap to go!). I was worrying as a mother will about Sage, when I heard the magical words through the PA announce Sage’s name as having finished, and I frantically tried to fire off some shots of her going up the right hand path. By now my hands were shaking, and the tears came anew.
Next was a ten minute transition of changing clothes and peeling off wet suits, before the 112 miles on the bike. The transition teams (wonderful volunteers) slathered sunscreen on everyone, and off each athlete went again. Wes, our son-in-law, began checking splits on the computer, which was tracking Sage’s ankle chip. The wonders of technology! He knew when it was time to pack up the girls and watch for mommy, so off we went to Sis’s cabin right by the side of the road, just before the equivalent of Boston’s Heartbreak Hill, longest and hardest spot for the bike event! About 20 minutes after we arrived at Hayden Lake, Sage whizzed by, smiling and waving! This was her second lap of the bike experience, in her opinion, her worse event. By now things were looking encouraging even for the skeptics among us.
We came home for a while, managed to choke down dinner, and it was time to go watch the finish in the misting rain (and 50 ish degree temperatures). Again, the computer split time told us great information, and Wes, intelligent mathematician that he is, did a great job of calculating where to be and when. It was magical to see her come down the final shute, like watching for a loved one coming off the airplane at the airport after a long absence.
Afterward, Sage said that she felt just like she did when she finished the Boston Marathon. Amazing what great training and discipline can do for a person!
Looking at my 400 plus shots, there was a huge amount of joy yesterday, and yet, some of the faces reflected such disappointment and agony and exhaustion that those are a big part of the images that will remain with me. Teamwork, an Ironman is NOT (except for the families involved) but self-discipline is certainly tantamount to a successful experience. Today I’m more tired than Sage! I’m relieved and she’s matter-of-fact. Our couch potato is no longer a couch potato, but a real Ironman(woman). Amazing!
What do you like to do on your birthday?
June 13, 2009
Yesterday was mine, and anymore I don’t count the years if I can help it. Just looking in the mirror confirms what I already know. Since school just got out, and I have no exciting photographic projects going until later this upcoming week, I was thrilled to take some very informal shots of my most favorite model, EB, whose pictures I have been taking since she was about 4 weeks. She has been well chronicled on my website. When her parents, teacher friends had her, I offered them one year of photography as a baby present. I couldn’t give up after just one year, since she’s such a part of my life now. Her dad proudly told me in the spring that she referred to me as her “best friend.” So…what a birthday present to me, to be able to take some shots of her, and then spend much of the day playing on my computer. While we were photographing, the next door neighbor kids came over, and it just felt natural to want to take some shots of them, too. Sister and brother, they have the reddest hair I’ve ever seen, and juxtaposed with the NC green grass (fed by a whole lot of rain lately) they were camera magnets.
How I love photography…of all kinds!
