Different as Night and Night

I had a rough night a while back, losing a load of building supplies along the way home three times before I could get it all delivered safely. On my last reloading stop I rested a bit after lifting really heavy materials back into the truck...looked up and saw the trees and the sky.

Wow. Click.

Having been so long a city mouse, now that I've become the country cousin, at times it's really apparent what exactly has changed. Life is quieter, food is home-grown, I see the kids more, and all that I've written about before.

What's not so clear so often is how this all changes my pictures. Though I'm aware that there is more rural character to the people here, people are still people. Faces are faces.

Then I got into my Lightroom image library and typed in the word "night" and found such a contrast starkly laid before me.

Night photography is a lot of fun. It's got an easy drama to it, and so becomes a first step of love for photography for many young people. That was as true for me as for anybody.

I am still a night owl and love navigating by moonlight. I guess I always will.

Harvest Volunteer

Today our little Calaveras Farm leaped a new hurdle, as we began harvesting our own oats.

No we don't like hot cereal that much, but we're rather hoping the cows will like our oats. A few pounds of seeds planted and tended a bit for a few months and we've now got about a ten-fold increase. Nature is generous.

Of course we've got to do our part, so I volunteered to help harvest. This is a small field, we're a small family, so we did it as it's been done for thousands of years...by hand.

I got out my nice broad-brimmed straw hat, some boots to protect against snakes, and started grabbing up fists full of oats. It was fun. Poking along and talking to Robin as we gathered the grain was the kind of gentle pastoral scene that I'd always hoped for when we first started talking about this place and what we had in mind.

Throughout the field of oats, we kept finding a different grain that seems to have snuck in with the oats. It is beautiful, it's probably good food, but it is out of place.

And then I thought about myself in the field...in my nice hat, not really knowing what I'm doing there, but happy to be there. So I feel a bit of kinship with the odd grain.

So I gathered up some of this grain volunteer for this harvest volunteer, and added it to what has become my farm hat. I'm still a bit out of place, but I fit in more and more all the time, and at least my hat is more beautiful every day.

Pair o' Parasols

One of my favorite parts of working the Calaveras County Fair was meeting all the other vendors, and having a new set of neighbors for a day. It reminded me of when I was a shopkeeper and greeted all the other shopkeepers each morning as we swept our sidewalks, opened our doors, and hoped the customers would stream in.

So when I went to work the Frogjump (as the Calaveras County Fair is fondly known) each day I brought coffee and got to know people. I was not in that mode with any gain in mind, but people got to like it, and returned little favors...free fudge was popular with the kids for instance.

And there was Mr. Lee. He sold massagers and imported stuff from China. Amongst his other goodies was a popular line of pretty nice parasols. Since the fair is REALLY hot, the parasols were a huge hit. I got a white one for Elizabeth.

I've been telling her since the fair concluded that she couldn't play with it until I managed to get a picture of her with it. She's got to the end of her patience and today made me take the picture.

Actually we took a few. She had a good time. Elizabeth is quite the ham.

Thanks Mr. Lee for making my daughter smile so much. I hope I see you at the Frogjump next year.

Load of Crap

Calaveras County is truck country. Most everyone here has a pickup, even if it's not their primary vehicle. For those of us who will admit to being curious, or even a bit nosy, this gives us an opportunity to look into those truck beds and get to know our neighbors just a little better.

You can tell a lot about somebody by what they haul around. First of course is what they think's worth loading. Sometimes the more subtle and telling point is what they don't think is worth unloading.

If you were to look into the back of my truck, you'd find a mixed bag...fertilizer for the gardens, feed for the animals, sometimes you find the animals themselves, there is usually some kind of photo equipment of course, and sometimes you'll find me sleeping back there. I carry a nice old wool blanket just for napping emergencies.

These two shots were notable for the simplicity of the loads...just one item in abundance in each truck. This is a single-mindedness about loading and hauling I don't often find in my own life.

Simplicity is nice, and makes nice pictures.

Perhaps the changing and mixed nature of my truck's bed reflects the changing and mixed nature of my life...or maybe that's just a load of crap.

Dry me up, Tie you down

It's a bit hard being away from home. I'm off to shoot an out-of-town wedding, so I miss the kids.

And Robin too.

So I look alot at the pictures I have here of home.

Two things come to mind, and since you're here with me, to your eye;

Food...Robin and the kids decided to dry mushrooms and strawberries. I don't know if there's a dish planned for both together, but now that I think of it...that could be really good. Sweet and savory is quite something.

Family...Ellie decided to make her own shoes, so we got slippers from potato sacks.

And pictures of both make sweet and savory memories to carry me until I can get back home.

I love you kids. I love you Robin. I'll be home soon. Save some dried fruit and 'shrooms for me.

Patrick

I AM Martha Stewart

Elizabeth, our youngest, is rather proud of her squash. I don't particularly like to eat squash but find them beautiful. Ellie kept at me to get a photograph of her harvest amidst all the other wedding and portrait projects I've been busy with.

So here's your Calaveras food photography pinup of the month. Squash with daisies.

Calaveras County has had a really odd few weeks of colder than normal weather, including some really strange summer rains. Angels Camp and the surrounding area usually don't see much but sun and very hot days through June, July, and August. 100 is not unusual. 110 happens every year a few times.

So 60 and raining is odd. Up in Arnold, just a few miles up the hill past Murphys Ca, they've even had some snow...at least that's the report; Snow in June in California. Strange.

All this makes us wonder about the crops this year, and makes all my Calaveras farm friends a bit anxious as well. There's a lot of talk in town about weather. Such is rural life.

So while we do have a magnificent pile of food here, some things may have already decided to stop growing or got off on the wrong foot. Potatoes are doing fine, leafy greens are great. We're probably going to lose our corn. So up and down with farm life...but the key really is that a couple of days ago I had lunch and the whole plate was from home. I get this at least once a week.

That's pretty cool.

Show me the FUNNY!

A long time ago working a cafe job in SF I had the rather odd but regular chance to serve Robin Williams. He'd been performing irregularly (does he ever perform any other way?) at a place called the Holy City Zoo on Clement St. and I was working a pizza joint a few blocks away. He was always pretty nice, made a couple of the same jokes, and once broke up a fight in the bathroom using pure force of character, a very loud voice, and much humor.

Having moved to the boonies, I don't expect these kinds of celebrity sightings/encounters to happen any longer. But then some days are odder than others.

The other morning I started on the way to shoot a couple in San Andreas, when I had to pull over. The road was blocked...by a cattle drive. So I did what I do...pulled over and shot the cows and the cowboys. As I usually limit this sort of thing to a camera, the cowboys did not shoot back. Neither did the cows. I was late to my location, but had a good story, good pictures, and a new lesson on how to budget time in cattle country.

Having thought that would be the most surreal part of my weekend, imagine my surprise when less than 24 hours later I ran into Will Durst at Starbucks. He was very nice. Just like the cows, I stepped aside and shot him as he went by. That's what you get for being nice to me.

For the record he left far less manure in the road than the cattle, and though he seemed to be accompanied by his agent/manager/handler/whatever, he required no herding. Well not much.

Mr. Durst's recent blog entry on sfgate.com on the subject of 'staycations' brought about many suggestions in response from his readers to which I should add my own:

Sit in cafes in little tiny mountain towns and wait for celebrities to walk by.

Shoot them.

(just cameras of course...I don't want to read about you in the papers)

This shot of Mr. Durst was posed, though it looks like a grab-shot a paparazzi might do. Like I said he was really nice. Life is more than a little surreal. Thank god for that.