Let Go

We met in college, my 1st husband and I. He was nice and paid attention to me, a shy girl who rarely went on dates. We started dating and a few months later he proposed. I said yes.

After we were married, the problems started. The warnings were there prior to our wedding, but I had ignored them not really knowing any better. Life was supposed to get better after marriage, right?

I knew I would never give him children when he woke up in the middle of the night and threw my cat against the walk because Checkers walked across him.

His dream was to be a photojournalist. I encouraged him to follow his dreams because that's what wives do and I stood by him while he pursued his dream. We went to Ohio so he could attend a top school.

It was there that it really got worse. Everything that went wrong in his life or that he imagined went wrong, was my fault. He didn't get the class he wanted - my fault. He didn't pass a test - my fault. The river flooded us into our rental home - my fault.

Jealousy followed me everywhere. His professor mentioned once I was a better photographer then he was - he put my photography down at every opportunity. I even quit photography to make him happy. If he saw me talking to a male classmate I must be having an affair. I withdrew from having friends.

Sadly, none of that helped. He had his own demons he was fighting. He decided one day to use his fists on me to fight them. The day I showed up at a friends in tears and bruises and she escorted me to the emergency was the start of my freedom from his terror.

The journey to freedom would take another 20+ years.

I tried for years to let go of my resentment for him and how he treated me to no avail. I held onto it like a frazzled old teddy bear that had long ago lost is usefulness in keeping me comfortable.

On this last day of 2016, while driving over Stevens Pass I began thinking about the progress of my photography from those early years in film. And I thought of my 1st husband and how at time he struggled with photography and wondered how he might be doing. I wondered if he had finally found a path that would give him joy. I hoped that he was happy and doing well in his life.

And realized that I had finally forgiven him and let go of my anger and resentment.

I smiled for myself and sent a little wish of well being to him, wherever he is.

My Favorite Photos from 2016

A Baker's Dozen

Twenty-sixteen was at times a stressful year, at times busy and always an adventure. Here are my favorite images from 2016, in no real order. Hope one of your favorites made the list.

1. Little English Daisy - composite image - I continued my journey creating composite and textured images of flowers this year. It's exciting for me to create these images as if a real artisic potential exists. This was one of my favorites this year.

2. Moon and Silos - while journeying into Eastern Washington with a group of fellow Mountaineer photographers, we stopped in this little town known for it's old crumbling schoolhouse. We were hoping to photograph stars above the schoolhouse. As we waited, a truck drove by us on the dirt road kicking up dust that spread a bit like a fog near the silos. I liked the color in the sky with the moon and the added "atmosphere". 

3. Stars above Umatilla Rock - on the same trip as the image above, after we left the schoolhouse we made it back to camp at Dry Falls State Park. I ventured out to capture the stars above Umatilla Rock and Voc Meyers Lake.

4. Autumn Ptarmigan - sometimes walking alone in the wilderness can lead to some serendipitous moments. But this was along side the road near Heather Meadows at Mt Baker. I startled her and her family. As the others ducked for cover, she watched me with a wary eye as I snapped a few photos. A perfect moment, perfect exposure, perfect background.

5. Mt Rainier in Autumn - for me this image captures the magic of autumnal change in the mountains. As the lower slopes are brilliant with color, the upper slopes are quickly covered in snow.

6. Silver Fox - talk about another serendipitous moment. While I was photographing a scene on San Juan Island this little guy snuck up behind me to watch what I was doing. I turned around and he trotted off a bit then looked over his shoulder at me. We hung out for about 20 minutes. It was a special moment that I will always cherish.

7. Hailee - this was an image that I imagined the minute Hailee agreed to meet me a Lake Sylvia State Park for her senior photos. The park has a wonderful old rustic covered bridge the I thought would have some great diffused light. With Hailee's long neck and legs I knew she'd be beautiful here.

8. Cooper - this was just a fun photo of my friend's dog while we were playing in the snow. Cooper just looked so happy on top of the hill.

9. Gather Together - spring in a marsh will often have ducks and ducklings swimming around. I rarely consider myself a wildlife photographer, just don't have the patience for it. But when I'm given an opportunity of ducks casually hanging out in the same area as I am, I can't resist. 

10. The Colors of Spring - Eastern Washington in the spring is filled with colors. This Skeleton of a barn sat at the base of a hill with the flower-filled hills beyond. A scene from a pastel dream.

11. Zillah - while on a backpack through the Buckhorn Wilderness in the Olympics, we took a brief break to admire the scenery. Zillah on the other hand decided to take a catnap in one of the most scenic areas of the trip.

12. Sunset at Illahee - talk about a perfect setting. Two sailboats moored offshore from Illahee State Park, almost perfectly framing Mt Rainier when ferry passes. Great timing with beautiful evening light.

13. Wild Turkey - This year seemed to give me ample practice in wildlife photography. Often serendipitous moments as I stumbled across critters. This turkey was no different. As I was driving along the road at Dry Falls State Park, I spotted him next to the road.

Standing atop Mt Constitution, the highest point in the San Juan Islands, the wind whips around me tugging at my clothes. It’s a cold wind. I pull my hood tighter around my face then jam my hands depply into my pockets; my camera hangs on a strap from around my neck.

I face east waiting for sunset. The sun, setting behind me, will hopefully light the clouds clinging to the Cascade Range to a vibrancy of the last remnants of an autumn day. The clouds are stock-piled along the mountains – scoops of atmosphere reminiscent of scoops of ice cream piled together in a sundae cup. They move with the wind jostling for position along the horizon at times exposing peaks then in a moment covering them again.

My eyes wander over the scene to the islands lying in Rosario Strait between Orcas Island and Bellingham. They rest in the shade of Mt Constitution as the shadow from the mountain stretches across the strait. The water gradually becomes a dull silver in the growing darkness.

The slow descent of the sun has quickened as it heads towards the horizon to the west.

The clouds across the Cascades begin to shift in color from white to a hint of yellow.

I shift my weight on my foot, rocking back and forth trying to stay warm. I adjust my hood so it’s covers more of my head and neck. Keeping my eyes on the scene in front of me, I rub my hands together then jam them once again deep into my pockets. The clouds have parted slightly around Mt Baker and I become fixated on the photographic possibilities.

Snow had recently fallen on Mt Baker, coating her slopes white. A smile broadens my cheeks.

Color in the clouds shift further as the sun sinks below the horizon – from a soft yellow to a muted grey. Then almost magically they become pink puffs of cotton candy clinging to the slopes of Mt Baker.

This is my scene.

This was worth the wait in blowing autumn wind with a winter chill.

Heidi's Hotspots: Lake Crescent

There are some pretty spectacular lakes in the Northwest: Crater Lake, Lake Chelan, Stanley Lake. They are set in stunning mountain scenery and visited as destinations in their own right. Ranked right there with them is the gem of Lake Crescent.

Located in the northwestern corner of the Olympic Peninsula, Lake Crescent is an easy destination for daytrippers and vacationers. And the trip will not disappoint. The heavily forested mountains on the north of the peninsula cradle the crystal clear blue waters creating beautiful views from any vantage point.

Highway 101 hugs the southern shore of the lake and there is no shortage of all those beautiful views. It's one of those winding roads motorcyclists and sports car drivers dream of, but be careful. The speed limit is 35 for a reason. Bicyclists ride on the narrow road and the lake has a long history of people driving off the road, the most notable is Blanch and Russell Warren who drove into the lake in the 20's and no one really knew what happened to them until 2002 when their car was found by divers.

But I would hate to drive fast on this road and miss all the opportunities for gawking at the views and pulling off at the ample pull-outs along the way.

And when you're done driving Highway 101 along the lake shore, head to one of the trailheads for the railroad grade trail and meander along the "backside" of Lake Crescent. It's a fairly flat 4 miles one way and leads you past Devil's Punchbowl - a very popular swimming hole.

When is the best time to go? Anytime. Spring brings new growth and roadside waterfalls. Summer brings recreationists playing on the water. Fall colors line the shore in autumn. And of course winter capped mountains are a must see, reflected in the still waters. I've never been disappointed by my favorite lake.

A Northwest Autumn

The skies are grey today. The onset of a northwest winter when it's darker more than light, the rain drizzles through the air and bright colors look dim.

It hasn't gotten to that yet - that will be near the end of January.

Now, the bright orange, red and yellow leaves on the trees add a colorful contrast to the grey sky.

They flutter and waft through the air, the leaves, to rest in the gutters and the occasional umbrella. In the mountains though, snowflakes are already starting to fall to cover the fall foliage in its winter coat.

Soon the color will be covered or gone and we will be left with grey.

That is winter in the northwest, but golden is what we see now.

These Serendipitous Moments

We were camped at the edge of a lake along the Pacific Crest Trail, the only campers there – just me and Zillah, my faithful hiking companion. We had hiked all day and by evening were ready to snuggle into our tent. Expecting a warm evening, I had left the rainfly unzipped on the tent to hopefully catch a breeze during the night. But that is not all that we would catch. As dusk settled over the little lake Zillah leaped up, hackles raised and with her nose pressed against the bug mesh of the tent let out a low rumbling growl. Bear! I peered out the tent wondering what I should do to protect us both. The splashing from the lake told me that it was coming across the lake for us. Squinting against the darkening light I saw not a bear coming at us to tear us apart, but a herd of elk playing in the lake. They splashed in it. They chased each other. They squealed elk squeals of delight. Danger averted, Zillah and I settled back into bed and listened to the elk playing until we drifted to sleep. The next morning, I looked across the lake and one lone cow stood at the opposite shore. She trotted off into the forest when she saw me. At that moment I realized I alone had experienced that marvelous interaction.

After several years, I still treasure that evening near Fish Lake and I was reminded how special it was recently on two wildlife encounters.

The 1^st encounter occurred while walking around the grounds at American Camp in the San Juan National Historical Park. I had received advice from a couple who lived on the island regarding which fork in the trail would be the best. Their advice took we along the top of the bluffs overlooking Haro Strait towards Grandma’s Cove. The cove itself is well worth the walk but as I was just finishing up trying to capture the beauty of the cove, I turned to look into the brilliant brown eyes of a silver fox. She seemed to recognize that I was no threat to her at all and meandered around on the same bluff as I was on for 20 minutes while I happily photographed her. Finally, I decided it was time for me to head back and she decided to try hunting on another part of the bluff. All the time we spent together not a single other person joined us. It was my little moment with this beautiful creature.

A few days later, I was attending an artist and photographer retreat at Mt Baker. While many of the participants were spread out through the meadows with their easels and tripods or hiking in groups to see cloud enshrouded views, I meandered through the meadow talking to photographers and artists about the colors and inspirations. After a bit – close to lunchtime – I started back to the lodge along the road and surprised a couple of ptarmigan taking refuge in some bushes beside the road. Cars passed by as I quickly created a few images of one little gal eyeing me before jumping off her little rock. I couldn’t wait to get back to the lodge and look at the images and smiling to myself. 

Deer Gangs

The deer in Moran State Park, and indeed all of Orcas Island, are very well behaved. As I drove the roads, they stayed on the side of the road. Rarely did they walk in front of my car or stand dumb-founded as my car approached.

Not like the deer in the Methow Valley. There’s something wrong with those deer.

As you drive along highway 20 from the North Cascades, you will see a sign that gives the number of deer killed in car collisions. Some years it’s a very high number.

I’ve wondered as I’ve driven past that sign, “wouldn’t all the dumb deer be killed by now?” With the high deaths of deer deaths of dumb deer meandering in the middle of the road (I’ve seen them do that along the highway). At some point, only the smart deer who know how to stay off the road would survive and teach their young to do the same. One would think, right?

A few years ago I found the answer – Deer Gangs. Adolescent deer hang out together by the side of the road daring each other to walk in front of cars.

Now hear me out.

A few years ago I was spending some time in the Methow. A few friends and I rented a cabin where you turned off the main road near a blind curve. And it was a blind curve, not only did it turned but as it turned it dropped down a hill.

One evening as I was headed back to the cabin, I slowed down to turn onto the dirt road when I noticed a group of deer hanging out in the blind of the curve. One started into the road as I came near but then backed away and went back to the small group of deer. It was if they were daring each other to walk in front of cars.

“Hey Jeff. Here comes a car. Walk out there and see what happens to this one.”

I could almost see cigarette butts hanging from their mouths and tattoos on their arms.

Not the Moran deer. They were more like “How do you do? I’m sure you’ll enjoy the view from the top. We certainly do. Carry on.”

The Moran deer were far more courteous.