It’s a cold almost-November day, 40 deg and raining, and everywhere I looked this morning, there were photographers, with their big cameras on tripods set up next to the road, wearing their rain gear and happily snapping away. Serious photographers are a unique bunch here – it’s like they bloom when the skies turns dark and cloudy, the rain starts to fall, and other people are grousing about the awful weather. But it’s easy to understand why. The clouds and fog skirting the big cliffs make them seem that much more majestic and mysterious. And no one, not even Ansel Adams, has seen just exactly this play between the clouds and the light. Heaven.

My own morning’s photographic exploits were more modest, and more furtive. There was a tiny dusting of snow at the top of our neighborhood this morning, hanging in the changing leaves along the side of the road, and I stopped to snap a photo out of my car window. (The visitors might stop randomly in the middle of the road for deer or bear, but me, I stopped for a couple of snowflakes. I need to remember to be more patient when others see something photogenic. But, for the record, I did check behind me to make sure I wasn’t on a blind corner, took only 2 quick snapshots and was moving again before anyone else came up behind me.) Snow on the ground. Ski season is coming up fast.

Over breakfast, I read Tom’s copy of TUNA News, by a nordic ski group out of Utah. Lord knows why we get their publication – something Tom did at some point. There is new ski gear in the catalogs we receive daily in the mail, and I’m contemplating new AT boots to go with the big plans I’m making for this ski season. I’m always excited about snow, but this year I’m preparing for long weekends in the high country, in Tahoe, or if I’m really ambitious, over on the East Side. October 22nd was my 4th Boulder Day, and it seems like a long time, but I finally feel like I’m in the position to get back into ski shape. The first few years after the boulder event, I just didn’t feel like I could take the pounding, and last year there were so many house projects that we didn’t seem to be able to find the time. This year, everything is coming together.

I’m now on day 20 of my new fitness program, and already starting to see some results. I’ve lost some weight overall – just a couple of pounds – but between fat loss and muscle gain, I can see some significant differences in the way that my body looks, and those pants that were getting too small are starting to feel comfortable again. Most importantly, I’m feeling stronger than I have in a long time. Years. Long enough that I’d forgotten what it was like, and what it’s like, is good.

The program I’m on is only 30 days long, and so I’m shopping for a new program. I checked out the Mountain Athlete program because, that seems pretty sport-specific. Lots of functional movement and sport-specific exercise. Tom mentioned a guy named Eric Cressey who is well-known for building strength. Tom also thinks that between us, we know enough that I could probably design something good for me without spending a bunch of money – which is certainly true – but for some reason, I work out a lot harder when I’m on someone else’s program. So, I’m still shopping (and taking recommendations if anyone has them), but committed to finding something in the next few weeks.

A serious program might have to wait until after our vacation to Hawaii though. Can you believe it? After years of planning mountain vacations and family vacations, Tom and I are finally headed to the beach, just the two of us. Running on the beach, surfing?, hiking near Haleakala, exploring the Road to Hana, resting, reading, and relaxing. I’m looking forward to the change of pace.

The other new season that is just around the corner is NaNoWriMo. Last year, not only did I finish the challenge of writing 50K words during the month, not only did I enjoy spending hours typing up a story that no one will ever read, I also managed to learn something in the process. Naturally, I’m excited to do it again this year. November is only two days away.

Lots of new things starting for me. New season. New fitness level. New commitment to play. New exercise program. New NaNoWriMo challenge. Life is good.

It was the strangest thing, and has been quietly haunting me ever since it happened.

We were on our way out the door to surprise a friend on his birthday, saying goodbye to a guest who had spent the night and was now on his way to Colorado, by bicycle. Tom had taken the first load of things out to the car, when he called me, and pointed out a small baby bird, still slightly downy, hopping and cheeping on our walkway. It didn’t seem able to fly yet, and could only manage a few feet in a flutter.

That was interesting, and I thought maybe I’d go out and take a picture. I sat down on the sidewalk, and started taking pictures, and the little guy (girl?) started hopping toward me. I held still, delighted to be getting a close-up view, and trying not to frighten it away. I shouldn’t have worried about that. It hopped straight up to me, and cuddled in next to my leg. When I moved away, it followed me and settled in again. It seemed cold (in spite of the down coat?), and desperately cute.

The only explanation for this one being out on its own, that I could think of, was that he’d been kicked out of his nest by a stronger sibling or something, and left without help from his parents, hopping and peeping as it was, it was probably going to end up as a coyote snack, if it didn’t die of exposure or starvation first.

Normally, I can be fairly stoic when it comes to natural selection. In nature, sometimes even the really cute little guys get killed and eaten, but then the cute little guys rarely make a personal plea. They rarely come right up and ask for a little warmth. It had snuggled up to me. It had started a Relationship.

Crap.

I know nothing about how to care for a young bird. I didn’t know what kind of bird it was, or what it would normally eat. If we fed it, would it still learn to forage for itself eventually? Even more of an issue, we were leaving for a 3 day weekend in San Diego. We couldn’t take it with us, or care for it while it was here. so, we settled for leaving an old fleece jacket on the sidewalk with the little bird, and continued packing the car. Almost immediately, the bird settled into the jacket and I was able to pick up jacket and bird and move it to a more sheltered location. Then we left.

Tom wondered aloud whether we’d really done it a favor or not. Starving to death doesn’t sound like a good way to go. Maybe it would have been better for it to have been left more exposed, to die more quickly from a predator.

We’ll never know. When we got back, the little bird was gone.

I learned later, that sometimes when a young bird is first learning to fly, it spends some time hopping and flapping furtively on the ground, with the mother bird nearby, before getting itself straightened out and getting on with its life. I choose to believe that is what happened to my little bird.

Of all the birds in Yosemite, this little brown bird is my new favorite kind of bird… or would be if someone can tell me what kind of bird it is.

After 14 years together, Tom and I finally went to visit Tom’s parents in VT for a week during fall foliage season. Foliage season in VT is a little like the Holiday season in other towns – the hotels fill up and are charging peak rates, there’re a million people running around with cameras, snapping shots of pumpkins and other squashes, sheaves of wheat, and of course the colorful leaves.

When I asked Tom what he remembered of foliage season in VT, he said that he mostly remembered October as being rainy and grey. Sure enough, it rained every single day that we were there. Fortunately, the clouds broke enough on a couple of days that I was able to get out and see what the wash of color looked like in the sun. It was amazing.

The Sierra gets color too. I’d say that we are near peak now – several weeks after the VT foliage passed its prime. The gullies fill with gold, and here and there a bright yellow big leaf maple, or a rosy dogwood, flashes in the sunshine. Le Conte gully, in particular, is full of these small bushes that turn a brilliant shade of yellow in the fall. Stavast has a painting called Golden Armada, and I’m convinced that these are Golden Armada bushes, whatever those are. One of my rescuers recently told me that when they airlifted me out of Le Conte Gully three years ago, the rotor from the helicopter picked up a tornado of golden leaves, rising up into the air around me. Would have been cool to see.

But VT really fills with color – so much so that sometimes it seemed like my eyes were attracted to the small contrasting bit of green among all the reds, oranges, and yellows. There are more deciduous trees and fewer conifers than here, and more mountainous terrain than my home state of MN, all of which combines to create a scene really worth traveling for. We took a hike down near Waterbury Reservoir, taking in the scenery and being impressed with the people who once made a living in that steep and rocky soil. The Ricker family cemetery was particularly impressive, with three generations of Rickers, marked with headstones like the one for Phoebe Ricker who lived to be over a hundred. They must have been a hearty crew, although the nearby headstones for an infant and two other young children speaks to how tough living there really was.

Of course, the other reason to travel to VT, in any season, is the chance to visit with Tom’s family. Tom’s parents were wonderful and welcoming hosts. Denis rescued us in the middle of the night when our delayed flight meant that we arrived after the car rental desk had closed for the evening. We had a dinner with him, his family, and Steve C. one evening while we were there. Tracy, Ron and Julia drove up just to have some lunch with us. Julia’s list of 101 things to do before she graduates from high school, inspired me to try to come up with a bucket list too. I’m still working on it. Dinner with Steve and Mary is always a pleasure, and we’re hoping to see more of them on this coast now that Andrew is out here.

As always, vacation is just a bit too short. The day our departure flight was scheduled was to be the first sunny day that week, and we missed out on getting to sail in a race with Denis aboard his J-24. It’s not that I don’t love Yosemite, and being in the Sierra, but vacation is always good.

Initially, I thought this site was going to be about things to do in Yosemite, but as it has morphed into just a little personal blog – the easiest kind to write – I might as well include my little vacation to Santa Cruz.

My parents came out to CA for a visit. I’m not sure what they thought of the Yosemite part of their trip. We went to Glacier Point and around the Valley, but they seemed mostly to be interested in sitting around our house and helping us with chores. Plus, I made them spend an hour picking up trash for the Yosemite Facelift. “Yeah, there’s Half Dome, ooo, and there’s an aluminum can, grab that.”

They arrived Saturday,and finally on Wednesday we were on our way to Santa Cruz. We drove in and walked the 3 (not 2 as the hotel optimistically claims) blocks to the Boardwalk.  It looks a little Disneyland for my taste, but it’s mostly closed and the beach is not at all crowded.  The groups playing beach volleyball stir a bit of nostalgia, but my volleyball-playing days are long gone.  Not only am I out of practice, but even the thought of diving for the ball makes my back cringe – even if I’m just hitting sand.

We would have had dinner at the Gilbert’s restaurant on the Wharf, but the rude  and stupid Maitre-D’ put us all off.  Tom was worried that there would be a table minimum, and asked if there would be a problem if only a few of us wanted a full entree.  The maitre d’ just looked at us, said, "Yes", then waited in silence for us to turn on our heels and leave. No apology and no explanation.  So there’s that.  I wish I were Seth Godin (or had all of Seth Godin’s readers), and could let loose on the stupidity of doing that to potential customers.

We went off to spend our money at a more friendly establishment that was serving Live Maine Lobster at a special rate.  That turned out to be a good decision anyway, because I don’t know when I’ve seen my parents more gleeful about food, and tonight when we walked by, I took some satisfaction in seeing the snooty maitre-d’ standing in front of many empty tables.  I wish them many more empty tables in the future.

Other than that, we’ve been enjoying our time in Santa Cruz.  This morning after a jog along the coast from our hotel, we headed inland to poke around the UCSC arboretum and campus.  This isn’t really the season for the arboretum, but we enjoyed the the exotic looking African and Australian plants, and the humming birds.  My parents wandered off without us, and while looking for them, we spotted a beautiful bobcat. Tom found out later that this is her second season in the arboretum, and was recently seen with kittens.  We found my parents later – they’d been enjoying the gift shop – and decided to take off up the coast.  The trip around the UCSC campus was a bit of a whim, and we were surprised at how spread out and hilly the campus was. Heaven forbid that you should have alternating classes at either ends of campus… unless you were looking for some exercise.

After that, we headed to the beach, relaxed and enjoyed watching some experienced kite surfers playing in the waves at Rancho del Oso. On the way back, we picked up a half-flat of organic strawberries from a fruit stand that we hope to return to before the end of the week.

During the second part of the week, we went down to Monterey to visit Uncle Daniel and Aunt Joyce, and the Monterey Bay Aquarium. Aunt Joyce is still recovering from back surgery, but she was her typical energetic and hospitable self, we took several family pictures at her house. The Monterey Bay Aquarium is always a pleasure, and the jellyfish tanks have always been my favorite. Uncle Daniel also suggested a drive south along the coast and a stop at Angel Point (if I remember correctly) where we saw a few wild otters, merrily playing hide and seek with a few kayakers fortunate to be out on the water.

Anthony and Julie joined us for the weekend, and brought their Wii with them. We spent Saturday relaxing with them, and my arms and shoulders were sore for days after playing a bit too much Wii tenis, and boxing. Aunt Grace came down from Rio Vista, and we all relaxed together Saturday. On Sunday, Anthony and Julie left to shop for supplies for won ton making lessons later in the day, but the rest of us returned to Monterey for lunch with Aunt, Uncle, and my cousin David and his family.

We got back from this trip September 8, but there has been so much going on in the interim, that I haven’t had any chance to post anything until now, and there’s so much to do still, that I’ll keep this short.

We flew from Fresno, CA to Logan airport in MA in a long and painful trip that was accidentally extended at 1:30 am when I locked the keys in the car in the middle of nowhere VT while changing drivers in the middle of nowhere VT. Keys, phones, money, everything was in the car. Fortunately, there was a pay phone nearby, and not knowing the AAA phone number, I dialed 911. They were surprisingly efficient, and called a tow truck for us.

Our time in Stowe was really wonderful. It included an outdoor concert with Tom’s parents and his sister’s family at the Trapp Family Lodge (the family of Sound of Music fame). Although I had been there many times for XC skiing, it was the first time I’d seen in without snow. Unsurprisingly, it is still beautiful. Sitting outdoors, enjoying some music, and watching the sun set made for a great evening.

During that week, we spent time with Tom’s parents, enjoyed conversation with Mary, Steve and Mariana (they persuaded me to join Facebook), as well as Denis, Pat and their kids who came up for the long weekend. We took walks with Tom’s mother, Maria, along the Stowe Recreation Path. Ate out at many fine Stowe restaurants, and went for a run along the Recreation Path which has measured distances. This is the first time I’ve really run a measured distance that I have any faith in. I’m slow. I averaged something like 11+ min miles over the 4 miles that I ran, and suffered to do it. One morning we hiked to the top of Stowe Pinnacle with Tom’s bro, Denis. The hike was beautiful – like a temperate rain forest wet and with beautiful roots, and brightly colored lichen and fungus everywhere, and so unlike the drier and dustier trails of California. I took a bunch of pictures, but they didn’t really turn out. I blame the camera.

We also went to Doug’s new house in South Hero, VT, and visited with Doug and Bridget. It’s a beautiful old farmhouse, on an enormous property that has necessitated a driving lawnmower to care for the sprawling green lawn. Bridget has started working for a local apple orchard that Tom used to work at when he was young, and they are thinking about starting a Bed and Breakfast at their home to take advantage of the extra space, and earn some extra cash. We tried to convince Doug that he wanted to run just a Bed, because the breakfast part really creates so much additional work, but neither Doug nor Bridget seemed much convinced.

On Friday, we drove down to MA for the second part of the vacation. Our friends, Rachel and Garrett got married in Salem, MA, a short drive from Tom’s sister, Tracy’s, house in Acton. Their wedding was beautiful, set outdoors on the coast, and we met many of their other friends, and family. I took a bunch of pictures of the wedding which also mostly didn’t come out. More and more momentum for the Canon dSLR and nice lenses on the wish list that probably won’t actually improve my photography. Fortunately for the bride and groom, their pro photographer got some great shots.

We also enjoyed lounging at Tracy and Ron’s house in between wedding events. Caroline and Julia are growing up so fast. We applauded Caroline’s interest in nursing, and tried (unsuccessfully) to get Julia to start a million-dollar Cell Phone Website. We strolled with Tracy, Ron and Dori to the dog park, and photographed the interesting mushrooms that grow in the park near their home. It was exceptionally wet from the rain brought by Hurricane Gustav, which is such a pleasure after the extra dry season that we’ve been having in Yosemite.

Unfortunately, the wonderful, relaxing vacation was capped by another marathon airplane journey back to CA. This time our flight arrived shortly after 5pm, and we managed to do a small amount of grocery shopping in Fresno before heading back to Yosemite.

I even managed to drop off a few of the Girls on Granite brochures that I’d brought with me. It’s late to get printed materials out for the September sessions, but there it is.