Lens

The Sleeping Lady watches over Anchorage

Fri, 11 Jul 2008 05:49:22 -0900

Mount Susitna is a wonderful feature of the Anchorage cityscape. Also known as the Sleeping Lady for the way its silhouette, well, resembles a sleeping lady, it's visible from practically anywhere in the city. It's so close that newcomers (myself included) often mistake it for Denali because it looks as big as we seem to think the largest mountain in North America should look.

I'm especially fond of Mt Susitna near the equinoxes because the sun sets behind the mountain, casting gorgeous silhouettes. However, it's hard to get a real appreciation for the mountain unless you get outside of the city a bit. I managed to do just that on my hike to Wolverine Peak. The trail offers spectacular views of the city and the angle is just right to catch the Sleeping Lady watching over Anchorage. I love the view so much that this very nearly became the masthead for this summer over on Life in a Northern Town. Alas, it's a real challenge for something that is allegedly sleeping to portray the same joi de vivre exhibited by Sienna, so Susitna was barely edged out of place. Better luck next time to the Sleeping Lady.

If you want to see a larger version, click on the photo to download it.

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Nikon D50

A sheepish hound

Tue, 08 Jul 2008 10:37:55 -0900

It's odd to see anything but frenzied delight on Sienna's face when there's a tennis ball involved. For just this split second though, we see something different. Is she worried? Guilty? Fretting about whether or not my arm will fall off from throwing the ball eighty thousand times in a single session? Either way, it's damned cute.

Nikon D50

A glimpse over the Chugach Mountains

Mon, 07 Jul 2008 23:57:56 -0900

It may very well be that the crippling soreness that's taken up residence in my calves these days can be attributed to my stubborn determination to drag my camera and all my lenses over 10 miles and up a mountain, but really, would a hike like that be worth it if you didn't bring that particular companion along to share the view?

A few of us - accompanied by two most excellent Alaska Adventure Dogs - conquered Wolverine Peak on Saturday. It's a hike I had been wanting to do for two years but had always been deterred not so much by the steepness or length, but by the supplies required by the length. The rapidly changing weather around the mountains plays a factor too. Let's just say that when I finally dragged my totally glycogen-depleted muscles up to that bit where there's no where else to go, only to be greeted by dense cloud cover completely obscuring any view, I was beyond disappointed, and if I hadn't been so focused on getting some fuel to my body I would have been pretty angry.

I sat down to eat a peanut butter sandwich (the cure for all bonks) and lo, before I had finished the clouds had rolled away to reveal a stunning vista into the Chugach Mountains, cleverly hidden from most hikers (including those who've conquered Flattop) by the front of the range. That view was all I needed - that hike was totally worth it.

Nikon D50

I'm begging you with my eyes

Wed, 28 May 2008 21:51:54 -0900

Dogs are famous (or perhaps infamous) for those huge, soulful eyes of theirs, but Sienna's are hardly ever bigger or browner than they are when there is a tennis ball involved. She's totally obsessed by those little green orbs, and occasionally she'll take a break from the manic look and try on the sweet, begging eyes of a doggie who is so neglected that her owner only throws the ball for her three thousand times a day, instead of thirty thousand.

And even though I know she's got everything a doggie could ever want, I still get suckered in by those big brown eyes. Wouldn't you be?

Nikon D50

Young summer and a young happy dog

Tue, 20 May 2008 21:07:53 -0900

This is my last summer in Alaska. I'm not dealing with that bit of information very well. Summer arrived oh, about a week ago, and I've been feeling the urge to spend every glorious, green, sunny, and amazing Alaska minute outside. As soon as I got off work today I took Sienna to our favorite haunt, University Lake, with my trusty camera in tow. It was a sparkling day and I snapped, oh, about three billion pictures of Sienna. So I'll be posting those for a while... The photo that I didn't get was of the moose I ran into. It scared the bujeezus outta me because it's time for the calves to be dropping, and I've already talked about how I don't like encountering moose with Sienna around, especially when baby moose may be involved. Luckily there was a lack of mooselet, so the critter I ran across today was probably still pregnant. I didn't really stick around long enough to tell. But I digress. So to mark my return to the photoblogosphere, I submit photographic evidence that Alaska really is the best place ever to have a furry four-legged friend.

Nikon D50

Last fireweed of the season

Thu, 17 Jan 2008 21:51:36 -0900

Contrary to what quantum physics tells us, when late summer rolls around, time seems to move at an accelerated rate at higher elevation. Even if you just go into the Chugach Mountains outside of Anchorage in late August, you'll find the foliage changed by the ravages of fall: the fireweed is past when it goes to seed, the flower-bearing stem is completely gone, and the leaves appear, fittingly, to be ablaze. When I saw this on my lone Flattop expedition this year, I was upset - how could fall be here already?

Fortunately, I came back down to sea level and found that life was as it should be, and some fireweed still had blossoms that hadn't reached the pinnacle of the stem. These were the last fireweed that I photographed for the season, and though we're in the best part of winter with lots of fresh snow and temps in the mid-20s (perfect!) seeing them makes me nostalgic for summer.

Nikon D50

El Capitan, late afternoon, Yosemite

Thu, 29 Nov 2007 19:33:35 -0900

There are two things one must see when they visit Yosemite: Half Dome and El Capitan. Luckily, they're both really big so they're really easy to see. There is even one viewpoint that gives you a magnificent view of the two of them next to each other. Unfortunately there were a couple of mild wildfires while I was there so that view was pretty hazy, but other views, while they didn't squeeze both landmarks into a frame, proved very fortuitous. This shot of El Capitan was taken from the valley floor. It was late afternoon, the sky was an amazingly deep blue, and the light was painting a most flattering portrait of the monolith.

Truly this is a majestic piece of earth.

Canon PowerShot S500

Half Dome in the fall

Wed, 14 Nov 2007 02:02:26 -0900

I've always wanted to go to Yosemite. Even before I knew I wanted to go to Italy, I knew I wanted to go to this national park. It's hard to resist - Ansel Adams was a phenomenal ambassador for the place and my parents have talked it up for ages. My Dad even conditioned me to chant "Drain Hetch Hetchy! I'm pissed off!" on cue.

So this year, when it became apparent that Cory and I were actually going to be able to spend one of our birthdays in the same place, he started scheming to take me to that very same national park while I was in California for a visit. What an amazing birthday present to get to spend an autumn day there - the place is truly magnificent!

Unfortunately I made The Rookie Mistake Of All Rookie Mistakes and left my camera in Alaska (and yes, I've already banged my head against the wall hundreds of time as penance), but luckily Cory had his point-and-shoot and it actually allowed you to exert a modicum of control over exposure settings. So, long story short, I was able to get several shots worth keeping (but not good enough so that I could say I don't have to go back!). My favorite is this shot of Half Dome, and it wasn't until I was sitting down on my couch editing the photo with a straight view towards my framed Ansel Adams Half Dome print that I realized... we took our photos from practically the same place. Funny how that works.

So here's to Yosemite, an incomparable natural wonder, and here's to forgetting your camera and therefore having a darn good excuse to visit again.

Canon PowerShot S500

Back soon

Mon, 05 Nov 2007 02:15:00 -0900

I have heard grumblings, but fear not, this blog has not been abandoned! I've a lot on my plate these days but still have many, many photos in my repository to post. If you're achin' for some photo love, check out Magnifico, my food blog. I've been going nuts with my camera over there. And please, have a heart - three blogs is a lot for a girl to keep up with!

Once life calms down a little bit (around the new year) I'll be able to focus more attention here.

See you on the flip side.

An autumn sun rises over Anchorage

Wed, 26 Sep 2007 06:42:22 -0900

One of the things I love about this photo is that it could have only been taken in September. Since Alaska is at such a high latitude, the place in the sky that the sun rises (and sets) changes dramatically as the length of the days waxes and wanes. The equinoxes are prettymuch the only time the sun rises in the east (forget that normal sun behavior you learned as a kid, that knowledge doesn't apply in Alaska!), but of course this couldn't have been taken in March -- just look at the leaves and the lack of snow! Anyway, I took this on the grey morning of September 14th, 2006, just as the sun had peeked over the Chugach Mountains and had set alight the fog that had settled over the city. My vantage point was Earthquake Park and downtown Anchorage is visible in the left side of the photo.

Click the image to see a larger version.

Nikon D50

Thank you Mario! But our princess is in another castle!

Tue, 25 Sep 2007 01:30:49 -0900

There's something magical about the late summer/early fall crossover in Alaska. You'll be in a park, walking through a forest, throwing a ball for your dog or chatting with a companion, and all of a sudden something will catch your eye. Your first instinct is to brush it off -- no, you couldn't possibly have seen that! But as you continue on your stroll it happens again and again, and finally you can't ignore it. You approach it, and all of a sudden, your entire childhood comes rushing back. You hear an infectious tune ephorically bopping across twenty years, you have the sudden urge to jump on a turtle and smash bricks with your head, and you know, just know, that if you try to eat the thing you're staring so hard at, you'll instantly grow very, very tall.

Looks like those wacky video game designers were on to something after all.

Nikon D50

Float plane, Trail Lake, Moose Pass

Mon, 24 Sep 2007 23:53:01 -0900

Sure, it's a sleepy, tiny little down, but I absolutely love Moose Pass. It's got attitude -- as you drive through the town you see signs declaring "Come in just for the halibut!" -- to go along with its mountains, lakes, and very high ratio of float planes per capita. I always stop there on my way to Seward for the pie, the halibut quesadillas, and the views. Trail Lake, which borders Moose Pass proper, is a beautiful glacial lake, stained green by the deposits that the ice has left behind. When juxtaposed with a mountain, a deep blue sky, and, of course, the requisite float plane, the scene is quite nice.

Nikon D50

Fireweed along Turnagain Arm, mid-summer

Mon, 27 Aug 2007 14:33:40 -0900

To Alaskans, fireweed is more than just one of the most recognizable parts of our landscape, a pioneer plant, one of the first bits of life to return to a glacier-scarred landscape or to revegetate a land ravaged by forest fire. It's also a warning of how much time you have left before winter hits. See, the blossoms start at the bottom of the stalk and work their way up as the summer progresses, and once they've reached the top you've got a scant six weeks until winter.

Though termination dust, the harsh harbinger of the coming of winter that I noticed last year has yet to appear, the fireweed is about spent. There are a few plants scattered about that still have a few blossoms stubbornly affixed to the top, but most have gone to seed and others' leaves have turned a bright, fiery red. Many of us have started lamenting this unfortunate fact, as though by culturing some fireweed in a greenhouse whose blossoms have just burst open at the bottom of the stalk we could buy more time.

So, in lieu of turning back the clock or vainly wishing for summer to last forever, I present this photo taken in mid-July, when the fireweed was still telling a more hopeful story.

Nikon D50

Bald Eage, Holgate Arm, Kenai Fjords National Park

Fri, 17 Aug 2007 22:16:08 -0900

Even on its coldest, wettest, most miserable summer days, Alaska is still a place that impresses and inspires awe.

On Cory's most recent visit we took the same wildlife cruise I took last year with my parents, and the weather could not have been more different. But even though it was rainy and foggy, the scenery was still amazing. The mountains all around were hiding their peaks in wispy fog, providing what may have been an even more interesting landscape.

Luckily, when we pulled into Holgate Arm to view the eponymous glacier, the glacial winds gave us a respite, which is good because my hands were almost so frozen that I couldn't use the camera in the first place. While we were viewing the massive ice formations around us, enthralled by the lone seal chilling on an ice floe just feet from the glacier, someone spotted a bald eagle above. I just started snapping pictures like crazy(er) and was very pleasantly surprised to capture this stunning, beautiful, and understated result.

Nikon D50

... And Sienna emerges

Thu, 09 Aug 2007 10:03:49 -0900

This is just about the only time you will ever see this hound looking graceful!

Nikon D50