Another year comes to an end and we all seem to look back on
the previous 12-month increment with reflection. Reflection of what happened in
the year and reflection on what the future holds. As I look back, I think on
all the friends, old and new, who helped to write my year’s stories. Of the
laughter shared, the tears cried, and the bonds we will always carry with us.
So, each of these images has a story to tell, of what I came to treasure I this
passing year and sometimes a life-long story of friendship.
January – One of my favorite images from this past year is
also one of my first. It is a story of trying something new, of a challenge
offered and accepted. When the notification for a dance photography meet-up
showed up in my email, this nature-girl and flower photographer knew she’d be
out of her element. But I signed up anyway and found joy in the simple beauty
of a beautiful human form. I was only able to meet with this group one other
time, but I hope to meet with them more in the future – the continuing
challenge of stepping away from comfort.
February – It’s taken a long time for me to feel comfortable
with promoting myself as a photographer and writer. We all know how real that
imposter syndrome is and I had been feeling it for some time as I struggled
with my book project and wondering if anybody would care. This beam of sunlight
was an awakening. This shaft of light reminded me of all the reasons my book is
important – that it is not the grand images of wide landscapes with startling
color so often searched for by so many photographers that persuade people to
love their public lands – it’s these intimate moments of a simple shaft of
light through a misty forest that touches the soul.
March – The boat tossed and tipped under my unsteady legs as
I gripped the railing tightly, my heart skipping a beat as each wave hit us
broadside. It had been since childhood that I’d been in a boat this small on
the open ocean. My cousin casually walked towards the front of the boat and I wished
for her confidence on sea. Somewhere I knew the boat wouldn’t capsize, I just
needed to remember that and soon, on cautious feet, I followed her. We were
here with her granddaughters to see whales something I had yet to see on the
few whale watching trips I’d been on. But the guide promised us whales. And
whales we were shown.
April – In all my travels documenting the state parks, I
have come across a few places within the parks that touch my soul deep to an
inner core. The places are unshakable in my psyche and I revel in knowing they
are there, waiting for my return. This madrone grove at Miller Peninsula State
Park is one of these places. There is something about the madrone tree with its
vibrant green leaves and red peeling bark that exposes a lime green under-bark.
And seeing so many grouped together on this hillside has me wishing for a chair
to lounge in, so I can look up and dream the day away.
May – Three women rocket scientists walking to demonstrate
their final project at the University of Washington. Do I really need to say
more?
June – In the far reaches of southeast Washington is a
little park on a hill overlooking the Grande Ronde river valley. Each spring,
the sun paints the park with brilliant colors of wildflowers. If I could be
here every June to see this display, I would. This June I got a little more
than I had hoped for: colorful wildflowers, gorgeous sunset colors, and a sense
of courage I never thought I’d need. For I shared this meadow with a meandering
black bear – the most beautiful bear I had ever seen. He was a tawny brown with
a jet-black face. And thankfully far more afraid of me than I was of him. We
both survived the encounter and I wish him well in his bear life.
July – The father and his adult son pushed their kayaks into
the bay as the sun slid closer to the horizon. Quietly they paddled out as my
friends and I watched from the beach. We could hear the son tell his father,
“This is a great idea, Dad.” We sat on driftwood chatting quietly as the sky
darkened then turned to shades of yellow and orange. From across the bay we
heard the excited words of a son and father sharing a special moment of
kayaking in liquid gold. I looked to my friends, each of them I met on a trail
somewhere and thought, “Yeah, this IS a pretty special moment.”
August – As kids we fought and most likely tried to kill
each other at some point. Maybe not on purpose. But that’s what siblings do. We
pinch. We poke. We punch. And at some point, as we grow, we become friends. I
always say, the only time my family got along was when we were camping. My
sister and I learned to bond over that. Camping together is easy as we are
comfortable in our self-reliance. She is slower on the trail and often in camp,
but that only gives me more time to photograph flowers. I fly by the seat of my
pants too often, but she’s great at making a plan. Summer seems empty without a
trip with her in it.
September – This was a year for trying something new because
the old habits weren’t getting me anywhere. In January I joined a writing group
to kick myself in the butt and get writing on the book. And I met some of the
most amazing people, each with their own backstory and motivations. I admired
them all with their ability to tell a story, write a poem, and be vulnerable to
the process. We found ways to explore our writing, our friendship and
ourselves. A few of us took a trip to Lake Quinault for a writing weekend. With
clouds slung low over the forested hills we wrote, we cried, we laughed, then
we wrote some more.
October – My mother died too young. Leaving behind two young
women still searching for a sense of self. At times her loss is immeasurable
even after 30 years. Then there are times where I feel her presence, a whisper
on the wind, an agate on the beach, the glimpse of an owl. Mom loved owls and
collected figurines and pictures. During my divorce, mother came to me in an
owl-shaped pillow I just couldn’t let go of. The comfort I felt from a silly
little pillow helped get me through some very tough episodes. So now, I like
collecting little owl figurines and pictures.
November – Photographic destinations: Yosemite, Blue Ridge
Mountains, Yellowstone, Oklahoma? I had never really thought of Oklahoma as a
photographic destination before – it is a fly-over state after all. But there I
was, booking a flight to a destination on a whim and a photo I had seen from
another photographer. I planned and planned then threw all that out the window
as I explored a part of the country I had never been to before. It was a
reminder of the journey I find myself on – to show that there is beauty
everywhere, you just have to look.
December – As with January, my last favorite photo is one of
the last photos I created in 2018. And I notice that Fields Spring State Park
made the list twice. On the last days of the year, my whale-watching cousin
with my camping sister and a trail buddy (all I need was a writing friend to
really tie the year together) packed ourselves into a little sedan and drove to
SE Washington for some snowshoeing and solitude. As we explored the winter
trails, snow fell on the Blue Mountains with just a hint of sun. It was the
perfect blend of winter and friends.
To you and yours, I wish you a story-filled 2019.
