I am not making this up

It had been two years since I'd last stayed in Forks, Washington for a photography workshop.

Little about the quiet lumber town had changed, despite its new-found fame.

Only one specialty store.

And the signs.

The marquee at our motel, the Olympic Suites Inn, read, "Edward Cullen didn't sleep here."

I arrived on a Friday afternoon. It was, incredibly, the day of the local blood drive.

At the high school.

Taking shots

Only once did I take a trip whose sole purpose was photography. A trip where you get up before sunrise and go to a pre-determined spot and set up your tripod and hope for great color and then shoot and shoot and shoot some more, then go out later for sunset in a beautiful place and set up your tripod and wait for the light to change and shoot whether or not it does.

Most trips I take are with sightseeing and enjoying family and discovering new places in mind. Of course the camera is constantly working then too, but rarely is there time to set up a tripod or wait for light to change. More often it's a quick stop for the shot and then a sprint to catch up with my companions. Mostly I drive everyone crazy because all of the sudden I'm not there. I stepped aside to gather a quick shot of a cute alleyway, or a tree overhead or a group of children or a bunch of flowers or a design on the sidewalk. Everything's interesting in a new place.

It's heavenly when the stars align and the family trip and the photo op combine all together all at once. It happened one late evening in Japan two years ago. With no bus or taxi in sight, we walked toward our hotel around Lake Ashti as it was getting darker and darker and we were getting hungrier and hungrier. What seemed at the time a great inconvenience was in fact a gift, as these pictures attest. This wasn't a moment setup, this was a moment lived. I stopped over and again and caught these views, as did the others with their cameras -- it was almost surreal in its beauty and quiet and we weren't so hungry we didn't appreciate it.

There is beauty in waiting to find and there is beauty in being found.














































Next week is my second-of-all-time photo trip. I'll be heading to the Olympic Peninsula with other equally passionate/fanatical aficionados of the sport, who willingly get up an hour before sunrise to drive to that perfect spot and stay up an hour past sunset to drive home from that best overlook, who are able to take dozens if not hundreds of shots in the same spot at the same time and who get inspired by everything from moss on a tree branch to waves around a seastack.

Maybe I won't drive everyone crazy.

Off the record

Here's a good one from an article entitled, "Queen hugs first lady in break from protocol:"

"A Buckingham Palace spokesman who asked not to be identified because of palace policy said he could not remember the last time the queen had displayed such public affection with a first lady or dignitary."


I so love that. Yes, I love the affection between the two women, but more than that, I love the caveat about the spokesman.

It's so good to know why those who speak when they're not supposed to are not supposed to. (Was that just two endings on prepositions?!) (Did everyone follow?!)

Usually it's something like, "Who spoke on condition of anonymity because he was not authorized to speak." Or "Who spoke on condition of anonymity because of department policy."


This is relatively new, this explaining why we weren't supposed to get the news we just got. As I recall, they used to just say something like, "Who spoke on condition of anonymity." Period.

It is so nice to have the rest of the story.

And the ethics of it all is most fascinating. As a reporter, if you're going to ask someone something he's not supposed to tell you and then tell the WHOLE ENTIRE WORLD in an article, is your conscience somewhat asuaged by indicating why you were not supposed to have that information?

We all know that there's some information that gets accidentally slipped out on purpose. Candidates and presidents want to guage public reaction before some things are cast in stone, so things just start spreading without a nameable source overtly doing the dirty work.

Still, it's amazing the number of unauthorized accounts in any given newspaper these days. Everybody wants to be Deep Throat.

But if we're truly wanting to be open and forthcoming, let's put it all out there: "Who spoke off the record because he'd lose his job if his superiors knew he was talking to the press." Or, "Who didn't want to be quoted because it might bring down the organization that he wants people to think he's supporting." Or, "Who asked that his comments not be attributed because the queen would not like the truth to be known on that point. And certain others."

There's a lot we wouldn't know anymore if people only spoke on the record. The press is, without doubt, the fourth estate -- the one that keeps the other three from getting into too much trouble.

But sometimes someone needs to tell the press that we know what they're up to too.

Ski report

Winter '09 skiing:

Total days on the slopes: 5

Sunny days: 2

Snowy days with powder: 2

Blustery blizzard days where you couldn't tell where the sky ended and the mountain began until you were there: 1

Times stuck in powder: 2

Black diamond runs taken: 1

Falls on black diamond run taken: 1

Yards slid after fall on black diamond run: 100

Best view of mountains: Gate between Snowbird and Alta

Favorite runs: Flagstaff mountain's

Favorite lunch: Chili fries

Nicest bathrooms: the ones with both fresh flowers and toilet paper

Craziest sight: Little mouse-like vol scrambling to avoid skis being planted at the disembark point at the top of the lift, skiers trying to avoid little vol

Interesting people met on lift: Dozens

Farthest distance of people met: Sweden

States of origin of people met: Washington, Oregon, New York, Illinois, Kansas, Massachusetts, California

Interesting tidbits from people met on lifts: pointers on places to visit in Boston, what a day in the life of a Ski Patroller is like, how Swedes learn English so well because of all the American movies and television shows they get (yikes), number and qualities of ski instructors at Deer Valley, best resorts in Washington, best restaurants in town

Interesting tidbits about people met on lifts: big brothers like to pester little sisters because they only do moguls on blue runs, Irish dads are proud of their American-born kids and their American accents, retired guys with season passes ski every day of the season, ski patrollers get defensive if you suggest they just ski all day until a problem arises, politics is a hot issue even in the mountains

Sweetest moment: when a young girl stopped to see what I was taking a picture of and got as excited about an icicle as I was


Most breathtaking moment: floating down the hill alongside my husband and almost running into him

Best breathtaking moment: the sun coming out after a long day of overcast

Biggest relief: taking boots off at end of a full day

Being new

Everything's new when you've only been in the world for two and a half months.



And everybody's nice -- as long as you're not hungry.






















And everything's interesting -- as long as you're not tired.
























And when you're surrounded by people who adore you and are doing everything in their power to raise you with love and truth and goodness you've got no worries.



















And that makes everything all right.

What you look at, what you see

It cannot be avoided.

In order to get from my home to the big city just south of it, it is necessary to travers a road with oil refineries on one side and a gravel pit on the other. At one point, it is necessary to pass some grungy old bars, one of which advertises -- let's just say -- dancing girls.

This drive is an affront to my senses. My sense of environment, my sense of aesthetics, my sense of beauty, my sense of morality, my sense of propriety, my sense of men needing to respect women and my sense of women not allowing themselves to be used by men.

There is only one way to get through it each time. That is to look ahead to the distant mountains.

The Wasatch range goes north and south for miles. Often snowcapped, it is majestic and imposing. As your eyes go along its ridges and valleys, they reach the sky, also inspiring. You know there are beautiful places, beautiful things, clean air and untouched wilderness. Purity.

Permit me to draw a larger picture.

Going through life often brings you close to pollutions of various sorts. Things that somehow seem wrong. Or sad. That perspective can bring you down unless you look ahead to the bigger picture, find the natural, the clean, the innocent. Direct your eyes upward to the mountains, to the sky. There is beauty and good. And it is there for us whenever we turn our eyes to it.

A letter

Their research was extensive, as always. The TIME reporters had lots of facts and lots of expert opinions and drew lots of conclusions and postulated lots of theories.

But they missed a rather large point. A point I attempted to point out to them in one of my annual concisely-written letters to the editor, any editor.

Unfortunately, I was a week behind on my magazine reading/study so the letter got there too late for publication, which I'm sure would have happened because editors always choose my concisely-written letters to publish and have through time.

So as not to waste another written work and a thought that is crying out to be shared, I include it here. I'm quite sure the readership of my blog does not match the readership of TIME, but you all are the only audience left to me. I'll take you.

First, the background:
The article on "How faith can heal" debated whether religion should be added to science in the healing process. There seemed to be some proof that people of faith do live longer and heal faster and that perhaps religion has some giant placebo effect. Studies suggest that being a believer has a medical benefit and fasting and being charitable are healthy and that thinking you're being prayed for makes a huge difference in your recovery.

"Here's what's surprising: a growing body of scientific evidence suggests that faith may indeed bring us health..." said the article by Jeffrey Kluger.

Now, the letter:
"To the editors:

"Your articles on health and spirituality (February 23, 2009) failed to consider a point that seems most obvious to those of us who have faith in a supreme being.

"While it may be impossible to analyze, it should be considered: Does God, in fact, answer prayers? Does God bless those who pray sincerely and serve generously and fast humbly with improved health or longer life or greater peace?

"My vast but scientifically undocumented experiences have proven to me that He does."


It's me again. And I know that all prayers are not answered in the way we want them to be answered. And I know that good people get sick and good parents have sick children. But I don't think our scientists and reporters should go around saying that when we do get better or live longer it's because of belief alone. They're forgetting the goodness and grace of the One to whom we pray.