The best kind of gift

I had a few minutes before I needed to head into the canyon and drive the last 20 miles to Logan for a family gathering. I had started the trip at the conclusion of a meeting I was covering in Farmington.

I decided to take those few extra minutes to drive over to the newly dedicated Brigham City Temple.

That the few minutes I had happened to coincide with the sunset sky you see here was not something I had planned or could control. It was a gift. The best kind of gift. 

Look closely

At first I watched the turtles.

When breakfasting on a lanai overlooking the rugged Kona coastline, turtle watching is a natural pasttime.

But then I started watching people.

It's ever so irresistable.

I was waiting for them to notice the turtles, because as soon as they did, I knew they'd call their kids or husband or friends over to see them too. They'd bring out their cameras and get as close as they could for as long as they could manage, and try and get a picture of a head bobbing up or a flipper waving out. I knew they'd do that because I'd seen it done. And because I'd done it.

But they didn't notice. They saw the waves. They saw the crabs. They headed back to the pool. They didn't stay long enough to see the turtles.

You have to look hard enough. You have to sit long enough. You have to be still enough.

I'm not judging. Every other minute of my life when I'm not on vacation I'm moving too fast to notice things. I wonder what else I've missed. I wonder when next I can sit down and just watch.

Scrappy little wildflowers

Nobody planted them. Nobody said, here's a nice spot of ground for you to grow and we'll come water you to make life easier. These scrappy little wildflowers just wanted to grow and so they found a place for themselves and did. And not only did they grow, they blossomed. And now the world -- even just this little part of the world that is a road -- is a better place.

Afternoon with a Senator

He spoke of heads of state and powers of Congress and problems in campaigns and working with Democrats and negotiating for Hill Air Force Base and e-mailing Romney and the finance committee and deficits and what happened in '96 and the importance of the next debate.
And I was impressed.

Is this awesome or what?

We got a little taste of New York City life last weekend. How 'bout this view from the roof-top balcony? And then there are plays and biking in Central Park and eating desserts that melt in your mouth and soul food. And concerts in Central Park with 60,000 of your fellow fans.

Nice to know an insider! Thanks, Stace!!

Close to home

We've hiked in far-away places over the past year, but just last week found a pretty little (intense) hike just five miles from home. You look at them all the time, but to be in them is to be surrounded by lots of beautiful surprises. Yeah for  mountains!

Party at the beach

The next generation

The funnest thing about family reunions -- even funner than the games (which were really fun) and better than the food (which was really good) -- is the people. Besides catching up with people we've known and loved for a long time, we got to meet a few new to the world and to us. And they got to meet us. And already we can't wait for the next reunion.

  

Girls' Camp

You wouldn't know by looking at the smiles that this group just fought high winds in high heat to put up tents, ate their dinner inside the tents in an attempt to keep the sand out, and hiked 1.3 miles or more (a bunch got lost and had to retrace steps) before arriving at Delicate Arch just before sunset.

They (we) were a hardy group -- hiking, rafting, mountaineering (they). I am glad to know them and know they can do anything and go anywhere.

Port Townsend explorations

Just when we get too old and boring to guide pretend boats and too achy and creaky to jump on platforms, we get grandchildren to show us how much fun it is. And that's even more fun.  

Four hours, four events

Friday evening in Davis County: Band honors, Globetrotter's fundraiser, chalk art on the sidewalk, gallery show. Read about it in the Davis Clipper.

Flash is not always your friend

So many times lately, at graduations and presentations and assemblies, I've seen photographers snapping shots with their flashes from great distances in low light. And when they look at their LCDscreen, there is only black. So they try again. Black again.

Allow me to veer from my usual look at life and love, people and places, to give a little suggestion.

Low lighting indoors is hard to get right. But you're more likely to get it right if you do something counter-intuitive: turn off the flash.

In the first picture above, I turned off the flash, in the second one, I used the flash and what was close is too lit up, what is far is too dark.

Of course there are issues with no flash. The shutter speed will be slower, so you're more likely to get movement (fuzziness, out of focusness) if you don't hold your camera steady or if the subjects in your photo are moving. And getting the light right is tricky, though in these pictures, the room really was low lit and yellowish, so we can't blame my camera for that, only those in charge of event lighting.

There are ways to improve your odds. If you want to get really tricky, and even point and shoots can do this -- up your ISO -- your camera's sensitivity to light. Point and shoots can do it in various ways, most easily by the "scene" controls. The higher the ISO number is, the better the camera will do in low light. If you have total control, as with SLRs, push your shutter speed as fast as you dare (even faster than the camera might think prudent) and that will help avoid too much movement.

That said, I don't want any ruined moments. Perish the thought. So hedge your bets. Take one with and one without your flash (or multiples of both at various settings). It won't cost any more, the non-flash shots will not distract those performing or in the audience, and you're more likely to come out with something that captures the moment and tells the story and can be seen from front to back.

Go get 'em.

Look who's looking

Imagine everything being brand new. Sights, sounds, smells, people.

What an amazing world.

What adventures ahead!!

Around the Sound

Now that my oldest granddaughter is three, it's time to start introducing her to lighthouses. Now that she lives in Seattle, it's going to be a lot easier. We started with Mukilteo Light, then Admiralty Head. There are many more and not far away. 

Justin and Lindsey took us to see Deception Pass State Park and the tulip fields in Skagit and we had so much fun playing that we didn't get to the little roadside park with the view of Seattle until after dark.  What luck.

The good things in life

  

The good things in life don't change: ice cream, sandy beaches, exploring, flowers.

They just get better: grandkids.

Weathering the weather

Though they look delicate, they've survived spring showers that came as snow and weather that swung from the 70s to the 30s and back again in quick succession this week.

I'm so glad.

Putting your face to the wind

I guess I looked lost and confused because someone standing on the bus next to me asked if I needed help.

I was in Southern France in the Spring of 2010, trying to get from church in Nice to my little apartment in Antibes via bus, tram and train.

The local missionaries had given me very specific directions, insisting enthusiastically that the tram connection between bus and train was easy and close, but I realized too late that I'd been on the bus too long and was getting too far away from trams or anything else familiar.

My fellow travelers on the bus didn't understand my French (an even greater embarrassment than being lost), but when I said in English that I was trying to find the train station, everyone within earshot was alarmed for me.

The woman closest to me yelled at the bus driver to open the door right then and there, even though we weren't at an official bus stop.

Then she frantically pointed toward the vast bay, la Baie des Anges, assuring me that once I reached it I would get my bearings and be able to find my way back to the station.

It was a long way to the bay. And I had my Sunday shoes on. And it was getting late in the day. And it was raining.

But I wasn't about to get on another bus.

So I walked, hurrying toward the familiar promenade that I'd explored many times before, splashing through puddles, darting across streets, anxious to reach my destination.

Once at the bay, I spotted the hotel that marked the route to the train station and scurried toward it.

And then I stopped. I had an umbrella after all. I was in Southern France. On the French Riviera, to be precise.

I was walking along the Mediterranean and I once again knew where I was and where I needed to go and there would be lots of trains before the day ended and there was so much to see and feel, and so there was really no need to hurry.

Walking more slowly now, everything took shape. No longer just puddles, but interesting people and charming buildings, dramatic clouds and raucous waves. I saw more, felt more, smiled more, enjoyed more. My situation hadn't changed. My reaction to it did.

Some years ago, at an outdoor book fair held on an unseasonably cold and windy day, I saw a little girl sitting on her dad's shoulders with her face to the wind. The rest of us were hunkered down in our coats and hats and complaints.

She turned her face toward the wind with a look that said "delight."

The situation we found ourselves in wasn't different. The way we faced it was.

We are all too often lost and alone, cold or embarrassed.

We can hurry to a safe place, or we can turn our face toward the wind and delight.



First published in Davis Clipper
In This Together column of March 15, 2012
Copyright Louise R. Shaw

New life

A wish

I'm starting to feel like the tree falling in the forest. If no one hears me, did I really make a sound? No comments for such a long time. Are you there?

News

At last Saturday's Utah Press Association award event in the category for weekly newspapers, I received first place for my columns. 'Just thought you'd want to know. They're online at www.davisclipper.com, where if you follow the links to columns you'll find mine at the very end.

Even better, a friend told me one of my columns made a difference. That's what I want most of all.

Here it is

Salt Lake City after dark