High Saturation

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…

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?

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.

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.