...adventures with a mirror and my 50mm lens. I plan to explore this concept a little further, but this was one of the first successes in this project.
(3.28.10) More
...adventures with a mirror and my 50mm lens. I plan to explore this concept a little further, but this was one of the first successes in this project.
(3.27.10) Reflections on Reno
It sounds like people live here. The Truckee River provides a running commentary, a base layer to the sounds of a city alive. Babies cry. Birds tweedle. The ducks desperately battle the current to swim to that perfect spot upstream (the water is always warmer upstream?). Country music blends with heavy metal as the ambulance blazes past. It is Saturday afternoon. The college students are avoiding homework. Young children quietly complain that the afternoon bike ride is too hard (I was there once...just keep peddling). It is a casino town, but so far everyone I see seems too alive to play a part in the casino industry. They don't try to sweep the homeless under the streets, here. They don't try to sweep ugly under the carpet here. Everything and everyone just is. Real people live here. I think I'm going to like it.
(3.26.10) For Sara, from the Archives
I'm still in the throes of moving, so here's another one from the archives. I took this a few months ago when I was visiting a wonderful family in Kansas.
(3.25.10) Good-bye Vegas!
The Las Vegas portion of my time with the Nevada Conservation Corps is complete. I now live in Reno. Same job, different location. I am eagerly anticipating exploring the Sierras, Lake Tahoe, and other parts of the high desert. If you want my address there, email me.
(3.24.10) Lentil Curry of Friendship
This recipe is guaranteed to bring friends together. It is delicious and it produces a lot of food. Consequently, the bonding that occurs from trying to finish the dish results in memorable moments of friendship, laughter, and food. Also, this dish relies on approximation, so just go with your gut and the wishes of those around you.
Saute:
1 onion
2 cloves of garlic
Add:
2 cups of cooked lentils (note: a little bit of lentils goes a long way)
2-3 tablespoons of tomato paste
diced tomatoes (canned is good, fresh is better)
salt to taste
3 tablespoons of curry powder (more if you like a little spice in your life)
Simmer for 15 minutes.
Serve with rice. If you want to get crazy, I like to put yogurt and more tomatoes on as a garnish. Also, this keeps well as leftovers. I think the flavor really comes out after a day or two.
(3.23.10) Over the Hill
Today marks the six month anniversary of my entrance into Nevada. It is hard to believe that I am half-way through my NCC contract as well as half-way through this blog project. Thank you to all of you who have supported me in my time here. Thanks for reading this blog and providing feedback. The past six months have been a wonderful time of growth--both in muscle and creativity. I would not be here without you.
(3.21.10) The Art of Dressing Oneself
Yes, putting on clothes is an art. Or it certainly feels that way when you wear the exact same shirt and pants during the work week. Any opportunity to dress up a bit (and by dress up I mean brushing my hair and wearing something other than a t-shirt) is a creative event.
I'm in the process of moving, people, so forgive the end-of-the-day pictures with the 50 mm and the mirror. Still ahead: Reno!
(3.19.10) Where it All Began
I am packing up my apartment for my move to Reno next week. The rose among thorns in packing is the opportunity to reflect on where you have been and where you are going. You rejoice in what you have learned, mourn past griefs, and laugh at yourself. These two pictures, taken several summers ago, were the seeds of two aspects of my life that I highly value today. The first--displaying my sister's lovely homemade bag--is one of the first artsy photographs I took. The second, taken by Catie in the Badlands of South Dakota, represents the summer I fell in love with the American West. Like the old receipts and pamphlets I find stashed in my belongings, these photos evoke waves of nostalgia and a somber remembrance of days long gone.
(3.18.10) Invasive Dilemmas
I find it interesting that the majority of our projects with the NCC have revolved around controlling invasive species. Our first fence project dealt with the most controversial invasive species of all: humans. The second fence, a T-post fence, was erected to control a historical but non-native species, the wild burro. This week we concluded our second of three tours of invasive plant removal. Specifically, we have been plucking the ambitious Brassica tournefortii--Sahara mustard--plants from the desert soils this species so dearly loves. Foliage is scarce in the desert and you have to be impressed with any species that can survive the harsh conditions of this climate. So why do we spend so much time, energy, and money to remove plant life and control the movements of well-adapted animals? Furthermore, if one recalls the principle of survival of the fittest, should we not allow such a robust species to continue its rampant population of the desert? The answer is simple: non-native species skew the delicately balanced ecosystem towards itself. As a non-native plant, Brassica draws resources from a web of symbiotic relationships that has developed over eons of adaptation. The presence of Brassica reduces ecosystem diversity and hence impinges the durability of the desert ecosystem. Burros destroy the fragile desert floor known as cryptobiotic crust. For the good of the many, we remove Brassica, we keep humans and burros out of certain areas. It often seems a hopeless task, battling the fields of mustard flowers baking in the sun. Reversing generational mindsets and attitudes towards the desert is daunting. Fortunately, for us, it is springtime in the desert. The full color of the plants we are attempting to protect spurs us (well, me) onward to grasp yet another stem at its base and yank until the satisfying pop of roots bursting from the soil finds my ears. With each day I spend in the desert, I return keenly aware of my role in this grand ecosystem. It is a role of respect and cautious participation rather than rampant consumption. Teaching that to the to greater American population, I fear, will be much more difficult than controlling the overly populous Sahara mustard.
(3.16.10) Defying Gravity
Sometimes it is nice to take a break from life and attempt to break the rules of nature. For instance, a run up a steep incline.
(3.15.10) The Herps are Back
As the weather warms, we are seeing more fauna out and about. The bees noisily fly from flower to flower. Mosquitoes and spiders threaten us with bites. The birds cheerily mark the start and end of each day. The herpetofauna have emerged again for our fascinated enjoyment and handling. This week we found 1 juvenile rattlesnake (never fear, Mom, we did not pick it up), 2 horned toad lizards (see above), and countless lizards of unknown species. One fearless lizard, Frank, took up home under my tarp. He spent the better part of an early morning perched on my shoulder as I ate breakfast and packed my gear.
(3.14.10) Capturing the Impossible
There are no grand pictures of the Grand Canyon, I contend. Only grand moments survive, captured weakly by the lens.
(3.13.10) A Conservation Success Story
Meet the California condor (Gymnogyps californianus). A celebrated symbol of Native American mythology, this magnificent vulture once soared over the Western skies, uninhibited by such nuisances as humans, taunting us with its nine foot wingspan. During the 20th century, however, condor populations were decimated due to a spectrum of anthropogenic forces: zoos, poaching, lead poisoning, coyote trapping schemes, DDT poisoning, habitat destruction, "general harassment", and power lines. By 1982, 22 individuals clung to the skies and huddled in zoos. Forget it, cried the pessimists. The population is too small, the gene pool is too fragile, the species can't recover. Let us accept our shame and move on. Champions of the bird disagreed. Conservations, led by the San Diego Zoo, compelled the federal government to fund a controversial captive breeding and reintroduction program. All 22 birds were captured and held for breeding. In 1992, Fish and Wildlife Service began releasing the birds in California. In 1996, 6 captive-bred condors were released in the Grand Canyon. Since then, the condor population has expanded to almost 350 individuals, 160 of whom are wild. In the spring of 2009, Mexico celebrated its second wild condor hatchling in 80 years. When conservationists and their critics despair, overwhelmed by the hopelessness of the environmental degradation at our doorstep, we must remember the California condor. In the face of great obstacles, a great conservation comeback has taken place in a mere 20 years. It should be noted, however, that the condor conservation program is also the most expensive conservation program in the US. An estimated $35 million has been spent on this large scavenger since World War II. I'm no economist, but I have a hunch that preemptive measures and a holistic ecological world view may have been a slight bit cheaper. And we never would have been deprived of the silent king of the skies for even a short while.
From first hand knowledge, I can attest to the magnificence of these birds. I had the privilege of watching a trio swoop and soar over the Grand Canyon this weekend.
(3.12.10) Memories of My Father
I remember little of living in France as a child. But I do remember my father--exuberant--holding my hand as we jumped to crack the iced-over mud puddles on the way to school. He taught me a lesson in being a kid during those days. Puddle jumping has become a life long habit.
I only have vague impressions of visiting the Grand Canyon as a child. I do remember my father, weary with stress, awed by the immensity before him. The wilderness, it seemed, was a place of healing. In the midst of natural grandeur, peace comes to the aches of the human world. I hold this as truth today.
Thanks, Dad, for teaching me how to enjoy the joys of the wild.
(3.11.10) Desert in Bloom, Part III
Sorry, I just can't help myself. It is gorgeous in the desert. The cactus should start blooming soon!
Creosote, Larrea tridentata. Check out those anthers!
(3.10.10) Desert in Bloom, Part II
One of the great things about working in the outdoors each day is that you get to watch the slow progression of spring. At the beginning of the week, these buds were closed tight. By the end, two flowers had popped out. I only wish I were around for the weekend to observe the unfurling of the other buds. Once again, the species is unknown.
(3.9.10) Desert in Bloom
The desert wildflowers are out, and they are splendid! With each burst of color, a burst of joy touched my heart. Plant taxonomy ruined me forever, however, and I only wish I knew the identity of these beauties.
(3.8.10) My Home
My dear little tent has survived the weather blasts of the desert without even losing a stake.
(3.7.10) Rainbows!
Driving back from California I encountered traffic about two hours outside of Las Vegas. Car after car slowed or pulled over to take in the amazing sky before us. At one point I counted five individual rainbows in the sky. A few minutes later, THE rainbow appeared. A full one hundred and eighty degrees, this beautiful band was too great for my camera lens. Maybe with a little fiddling in Hugin I can produce the effect. Until then, behold this small beauty! I was literally bouncing up and down in my seat with wonderment. This is one of those moments of grandeur that will brighten my day for years to come.
(3.6.10) Join the Farm
For the past few days I have been visiting good friends who are interning on an organic farm near Oxnard, CA. Join the Farm! is a community supported agriculture project designed to bring healthy and nutritious food to all. Visit the site and the Abundant Table Project blog to learn more about this wonderful endeavor. Above all, those involved with this farm are practicing a beautiful hospitality and love. They love farming, laughing, each other, you, cheesemaking, hiking adventures, wonderful food, and so much more. It has been so refreshing to tag along for a a brief period. Thanks, ladies!
(3.3.10) Midlake
My plan for today's picture was to have a sweet rock concert shot. My aspirations to such greatness, however, were tampered by the security at the El Rey theater, who deemed my camera a threat. Here are two pictures to compensate: the first from the theater and the second the aftermath of the dinner before the concert.
P.S. Check out the new Midlake album!
(3.2.10) Adventures in National Parks and Sunstars
On my way to California I drove through the Mojave Desert Preserve and Joshua Tree National Park. Adventures like this one make me fall in love with the West all over again. I also experimented with some photography tricks, like sunstars.
Ooops!
I tried to get all fancy and use a scheduled publisher to put up my posts. Instead I just messed the order of the days up. Scroll on down for 2.27, 2.28, and 3.1.
(2.24.10) Exposed Lake Bed
Historic water levels of Lake Mead place the shore 100 feet higher than its current shoreline. Walking upon the former lake bed produced hundreds of shells, a few old anchors, some fishing tackle, and a box of bones (no joke).
(2.28.10) It is Hard to Complain...
...when your lunch break view looks like this. My apologies to all of you in cooler climates, but I also have to add that I went for a swim and even had some time to tan. I have an awesome job.
(2.27.10) Green
The recent deluge of rain, including a sprinkling this past week, left the creosote bushes afire with brilliant greens. It is amazing how starved for a particular hue one can become.
(2.23.10) Creativity Fail
Blame it on an African upbringing, blame it on a petite (but muscular!) stature, blame it on my gear, but we cannot avoid the truth: I am perpetually cold, particularly in the evening. I quickly learned to bring extra layers into the field and wear them (up to seven at a time). In the evenings bundling to marshmallow proportions is still insufficient, so I typically bring both of my sleeping bags and snuggle down, the zero degree bag cocooned in the 15 degree bag (I'm a wimp, I know).
This week, in a rash disregard for the facts stated in the above paragraph, I left one of my sleeping bags at home. Wrong move, Darth Barbie, wrong move. In a moment of creative inspiration, I heated a rock in the fire, wrapped it in my t-shirt, and placed the rock at the bottom of my sleeping bag. The good news: the rock was still hot the morning. The bad news: within one minute of contact with my sleeping bag, the wrapped rock burned a hole through my bag and my sleeping bag. After a few well placed words of frustration, I wrapped the rock with my fleece and it did keep me warmish throughout the night. Sometimes improvisation backfires, and quite frankly, I have had far too much success for my own good recently in the creativity department.
The incident was also an exercise in accepting myself, frigid toes and all. As the saying goes, there is no poor weather, simply poor clothing.
(2.22.10) A Picture, A Joke, and Some Beauty
Here's a question for you:What do you call a baby burro?
Answer: A burrito!
Yes, we manufactured that joke while we were building yet another fence in Lake Mead National Recreation Area. We erected a 1.5 mile fence to create a burro management area and thus protect a section of the wilderness from the tramplings of these wild donkeys. And let me tell you, this is one wilderness that I am eager to protect. If you ever find yourself driving through Lake Mead, make your way over to Echo Bay and take a hike around the shores of the lake. It is absolutely stunning. For those of you who had conjured images of Nevada as a barren, it is time to wipe those mental slates, my friends. Hopefully, my pictures will convince you that the beauty I see here is not a mirage.
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