The Approach of the Approach of Splendor

We recently spent the better part of a week over on Maui.  Some highlights of the trip are a bit on-the-nose, like sunrise at the summit of a dormant volcano, or a lovely day spent lounging by the tranquil resort pool with smoothie service.  But my favorite moments of just about any trip are usually completely off the radar of anyone else.  Like the afternoon I spent roaming a Prague cemetery and took some of my most favorite photos.  You get some odd looks when you describe that your favorite moment of a four-country European vacation was a solitary sojurn, filled with ivy-covered gravestones.  

We took a hike to a spectacular waterfall, Pipwai Falls, way out in East Maui past Hana in the Kipahulu district of Haleakalā National Park.  A place that is simultaneously remote and yet well-touristed.  The hike was a 6-mile out-and-back along a stream we had to ford at one point, culminating at a small clearing surrounded on three sides by soaring vertical rock walls and a 400-foot-tall water cascade.  Stunning.  But it wasn't my favorite part of the hike, by far.  

No, it was this boardwalk section through a bamboo forest.  Anyone who knows me knows how much I love light.  A deeper metaphor, yes, but the photographer in me enjoys the changing nature of light, the play of light with objects, the qualities it possesses from one time and space to another.  It is fleeting and it is lovely and it is holy.  Anyhow, we stepped from jungly streamside forest into this other world.  The light filtering through the leafy canopy into the tall bamboo shafts.  The sound they made as the wind sifted through them - the largest bamboo wind chime on earth.  I lagged back from the group just to linger a while in it, to listen and to simply be.  I must have looked ridiculous, completely overjoyed to walk through a patch of overgrown grass, which wasn't even the hike's destination.

From Frederick Buechner's The Alphabet of Grace:

Two apple branches struck against each other with the limber clack of wood on wood.  That was all - a tick-tack rattle of branches - but then a fierce lurch of excitement at what was only daybreak, only the smell of summer coming, only starting back again for home, but oh Jesus, he thought, with a great lump is his throat and a crazy grin, it was an agony of gladness and beauty falling wild and soft like rain.  Just clack-clack, but praise him, he thought. Praise him.  Maybe all his journeying, he thought, had been only to bring him here to hear two branches hit each other twice like that, to see nothing cross the threshold but to see the threshold, to hear the dry clack-clack of the world's tongue at the approach of the approach of splendor.

And because the augenblick will not verweile, the return trip through the bamboo was completely different.  One, it was no longer a delightful surprise - it was now a known entity, the joy of discovery was finished.  Two, an hour later after a pause at the falls, and of course the light's angles had changed.  Others may keep their waterfall; I, however, will carry that bamboo around with me forever.  Clack clack.

3...2...1...

I finally got to see a shuttle launch all up-close-and-personal!

I often disparage the local news channel, especially after having been edited to sound like an absolute ignoramus, but one thing they do really well is NASA coverage. I just happened to see, sometime on Friday, that there was a shuttle mission scheduled to launch early Monday morning. And, most fortuitously, I am on Spring Break right now, so even if it had been scrubbed, I still had a week's worth of early mornings available! AND it was scheduled for 621a, about 30 minutes before sunrise. I thought I had totally missed my last chance for a night launch in August, but no! Hooray! So I immediately made plans to drive to the coast. Which brings me to this morning:

At 200a, after grading papers for what seems like a fortnight, I made myself a travel-mug of coffee, packed up a bag and a lawn chair, and drove off towards Titusville. I was aiming for Space View Park, across the Indian River from Cape Canaveral. It took about 40 min to get there from home (not so on the way back...), and at T-2.5h, there were a fair number of people out and about, but I was able to get free parking within a couple blocks. Before I even got to the park, I noticed a grassy area right up on the water in front of a condo building, and with some prime seating available. So I dropped anchor there, between two palm trees, about ten feet from the shore, with a clear view of the floodlit launch pad. The only thing missing was the park's live control-room audio, but I did have (read: steal) someone's free wireless signal, which meant I could follow the launch blog. And besides, once things get going, you know it!

There was a quiet electricity running through the still-small crowd, and people of all ages were sleeping on blankets on the ground, waiting. The hush was almost reverential. I had packed my ipod, a book, and some knitting to pass the time, but after being up for almost 24h by that point, all I wanted to do was sleep. I was wearing pants, a sweatshirt, and a turtleneck for the 50-something-degree air, and as I was getting out of the car, I thought "why do I need my blanket, it's fine out?". Fool. I know exactly when the lowest temperature of the day happens (right before sunrise), and I hadn't taken into consideration any shoreline breeze when I made that judgment. So, without the expectant giddiness of an imminent shuttle launch, I'd have been pretty miserably cold and sleepy. I managed to nap in my lawn chair for about 20 minutes or so. Checked the blog - everything was still go for launch. There had been some concern about fog and low cloud, but it was perfectly clear. I curled back up in my chair and got another 20 min of sleep. I woke up just in time to miss the ISS passing overhead (grrr). I looked behind me and the crowd around me had quadrupled and had a completely different energy about it. 20 minutes to launch! In what seemed like hardly any time at all, I heard a shouted countdown from one of the viewers somewhere behind me!

I hadn't taken much photographic equipment - no tripod, no telephoto, etc, just my phone (for video) and handheld SLR - because I wanted to actually experience the launch, not "watch" it with my nose stuck behind a viewfinder, trying to get a good shot. I partially succeeded. The photographer in me, though, couldn't help herself (especially with all the tripods set up around me), and I wound up still trying to make some pictures. My photos turned out pretty crappy, but they're not meant to be art, just mere snapshots for my own memory.

It lifted off, and, boy, is the view across the water at night something else! While the first splashes of pre-dawn blue spread across the eastern sky, Discovery rose pretty high pretty fast. It still took a while (a couple minutes) for the sound to finally reach us. It was unlike anything I'd ever heard. A constant, rolling rumbling thunder that just kept going. Spread out over us like ripples in a pond. It's amazing what 30-miles-closer-to-the-coast does for viewing. Shuttles always take off towards the northeast, away from home; as it gets downrange, it gets harder and harder to see, especially with the curvature of the earth and houses and trees obscuring the horizon. Not so on the ocean! We could see it clearly and high for a long time. Even solid-booster-rocket separation (for which everyone cheered - so cute!). As it continued to slip the surly bonds of Earth, this lovely comet-like corona formed around it. I'd never seen anything like it before.

And of course, all that water-vapor spewed into the mesosphere makes for some stunning clouds, particularly after sunset. One of the most beautiful launches (and subsequent clouds) happened about a year ago, just after sunset, also with Discovery. Same lighting, except back-lit instead of from the front. As the sun sank below the horizon to us, it left just the top part of the exhaust trail brightly illuminated, then splashed it with reds and oranges against the inky sky. This time, as the shuttle rose, the sun spot-lit the very top of the trail and continued to illuminate more and more of it as the sky grew lighter.

I stuck around for about 20 minutes after the launch, knowing that trying to get into my car and head back out was a ridiculous idea. Besides, I hadn't actually made it down to the park, and I was praying for a bathroom. I wandered over to the park, which was clearing out, and I was really glad I'd set up camp where I did. The park is nice, but I feel like I had a better viewpoint with far fewer trees and people. I milled around, taking pictures of the filaments of cloud that were starting to tangle and twist in the jet stream. Finally joined the bathroom line, then headed back to the car.

I'm eternally grateful for the GPS in my dashboard, and I realized that I could probably circumvent some traffic if I headed south and joined up with I-95 one exit south of the one I took. Foolish move #3 (#1 was the 24oz of coffee in my system with no bathroom nearby, in case you were keeping track). The on-ramp to I-95 for which I was heading was closed. I don't know what the deal was, but I wound up taking a circuitous route involving SR50 through Christmas, 520 back southeast to the Beeline (SR528) and finally home. After about 2.5 hours! In retrospect, I'd have slept in my car for an hour, grabbed breakfast in Titusville as the rest of the tourists were clearing out, and gotten home at the same time a bit better-rested. Lessons learned.

Nevertheless, I can't wait for the next one! There are only about four left, if we're lucky. I can't help but wonder what will befall the area when the space program changes with the demise of the Space Shuttle program. The Space Coast already seems like a bit of an anachronism, what with the low-rise mid-century ranch homes and this late-60s mystique about the place. You expect to see government engineers with short-sleeve dress-shirts, pocket protectors, and heavy black-framed glasses working in fluorescent-lit offices with acoustical tile and green metal file cabinets. Very I Dream of Jeannie. Some of my compatriots in the bathroom line were of an age that made me think they'd lived on the coast since the inception of the space program, when their husbands (or maybe even they, but that glass ceiling hasn't been cracked for that long), took a job at the insistence of a young president on an otherwise sleepy beach in Florida some forty years ago. They'd probably seen hundreds of launches - rockets and shuttles, successes and failures - and yet they still come out at dawn for one more before the fleet is mothballed.

I have mixed emotions about the shuttering of shuttle flight with no viable alternative, save for some private-venture upstarts. I'm all for progress, and I know that programs get scuttled and funding gets cut, but the space program seems to be dying a slow graceless death even as Discovery gracefully takes wing above it all. Is the Last Frontier nothing but boring to us now? Maybe it's a symptom of a greater trend - as we look around more at ourselves and less to the heavens.

Long Weekend

Even though (because?) I have tons of work to do this weekend, I'm really glad for the holiday weekend. This morning, I worked against some of my sleep deficit, which grew significantly this week and left me vulnerable to an opportunistic cold virus. I slept until 930a, which was perfect - long enough for good rest, but not too long that I felt I squandered the morning.

Yesterday's grey all-day rain gave way to clear-and-cool today, and I spent far too much of it indoors. As the sun sank, I decided to follow the very advice I gave to someone earlier this afternoon. I took a 45-minute walk around the neighborhood and down to the lake. Meanwhile, I got to see/hear some of the early-evening international arrivals and departures on 35R.

Pasta Party

We hosted our supper club this month, which meant it was our job to decide the theme.  We'd done the same stuff, so I decided that this month's supper club was brought to you by the letter S.  Everything had to have an ingredient that began with S.  We had a spinach salad with strawberries and sunflower seeds.  San Pellegrino.  Sunflower and flax seed bread.  Blackberry cobbler (it had sugar in it. ;) )  And I made chicken and fresh pasta with fresh sage leaves harvested from my windowsill.

Semolina and all-purpose.

Kneaded dough.

Sage harvest!

Rolling it out.

Placing the sage.

Sage leaves enveloped and stretched.

Fresh Sage Pasta Squares

(from Williams-Sonoma Pasta With Sauces)

7 oz (220 g) semolina flour

4 oz (125 g) all-purpose flour

1/4 t. salt

2 eggs

1 1/2 T. water

On a clean surface, combine semolina, all-purpose flour, and salt in a mound.  Make a well in the center and break in the eggs.  Add water.  Using a fork, blend the ingredients in the well, gradually drawing in flour, until all ingredients are combined into a dough.  Dust surface with flour and knead, pushing and turning repeatedly, until the dough feels smooth - about 7-10 minutes.  Cut dough into four pieces, and use a machine to roll out pasta [on my machine, I stepped down to a "4" out of 7].  Lay pasta on work surface, very lightly moisten the top of the sheet, and place clean dry sage leaves on half.  Fold over the rest of the strip onto the sage and re-roll to desired thickness.  Sage leaves will stretch and be seen through the translucent pasta.  Cut into squares and lay on wax paper to dry briefly before cooking.  When ready to cook, boil in salted water for 2 minutes before draining.  Toss with Sage-and-Shallot Butter.

Sage-and-Shallot Butter

(can make a day in advance)

4 oz. (1/2 c.) unsalted butter, room temperature

1 T. minced shallots

1 T. minced fresh sage

1/2 t. salt

1/2 t. ground pepper

In the work bowl of a food processor, combine all ingredients.  Pulse several times until mixture is smooth and well-blended.  Transfer to a piece of plastic wrap, cover, and roll into a cylinder.  Refrigerate until solid.

Ah, Spring

We're on spring break, and we've had shockingly beautiful weather, real chamber-of-commerce kinds of days. And perhaps it's a bit ungrateful for me to say that I am not quite ready for summer. I'm reluctant to give up my wool and my turtlenecks, even though we have had a decent run of winter. But I'm not quite ready for the summer pattern just yet. That said, we've had a string of days lately that start out pleasantly cool but quickly climb into the 80s under clear skies.

A friend and I spent a lovely day out in town yesterday, at Leu Gardens for a portion of it. The garden admission is waived on Mondays before noon, so it was crowded with retirees, mothers with strollers, and an army of SLR-bearing photographers. Not that we weren't part of it...

Winter Park Farmers Market

What an enjoyable morning!  Beautiful weather and excellent treats.  The Winter Park market is the closest central-Florida  approximation to the Monterey Market - if not in size and produce offerings, then at least in people-watching opportunities and dog-friendliness.

What my ten dollars bought:

A gigantic bag of kettle corn1 - still hot from the kettle

A carton of yellow tomatoes - you'll see them in the corner of one picture

A tomato plant - only a dollar, so worth the risk

A swanky Robert Talbott tie - from the benefit shop down the road

1 Where can I find "mushroom popcorn" - the kernels that explode into the round puff-balls, instead of the typical butterfly shape?  I can find wholesalers, but I just want a couple pounds for home use...

Tree Frog

I took a picture of this frog on our bathroom window two months ago. It seems a nice accompaniment to Jess's post. I didn't name it. Maybe I should.

Bookstravaganza

Alternate Title: Because Jess Did

My haul from the ridiculous used book sale in Gainesville a couple weeks ago.  I was going to list them here, but it's far more efficient to photograph them.  Even if there is a wonky shadow across the spines and the angle is kind of weird.

Weekend Project

Here's what I did on Sunday, instead of grading papers.

A couple weeks ago, I found my box of pastels in a closet of craft supplies (what, you don't have a closet for craft supplies?  I have two. :)  Well, one and a half.  Anyhow...).  I pulled them out and figured I'd eventually do something with them.  So last night, with a couple photographs for inspiration, I laid down some pigment on paper.

(sorry for the weird angle on that)

and

There's a lot I don't love about them, but they were really quick one-offs that I didn't spend too much time getting technically right.  But, hey, it's something.

Sunset

Tonight's sunset was beyond stunning! Like, stop-everything-leave-the-food-cooking-on-the-stove-and-go-outside-and-gawk beautiful.

Europe Tour-o-Matic II

Excerpts from the Travel Journal

Monday, 23 June 2008
Paris, France

We arrived in Paris yesterday, but I wasn't fully aware ofthe differences between Paris and the Italian cities we visited [Florence and Rome] until today. The light is completely different - the sunshine that buttered Italy in gold has given way to a crisper light, one that renders Paris in more of a greyscale. It's not gloomy, but the light - like the air - is cooler.

After last night's dinner, a group of us took the tunnel under the Place de l'Etoile to the Arc de Triomphe. It was that part of the early evening where the sun is low and accentuates any haze or particles in the air to give photographs a romantic blur. I was hoping to convince them to go up to the top of the Arc; the last time I was in Paris (November 2001) , I took this gorgeous photograph of the city from the top. Usually I'm not much for aerial shots, but from that relatively low height, you see a lot more detail in the rooflines and there's a lovely shot of the city that includes the Eiffel Tower. And the light was perfect for it. Alas, they didn't want to.

As if to make up for that missed opportunity, later in the evening, a few girls from the group asked me if I would take them into the city the next morning (today) at the crack of dawn so they could get good pictures of the Eiffel Tower. Well, after a country's worth of pictures in harsh midday sun, I was more than happy to agree to their offer, which I negotiated for a free Metro ticket and a bottle of wine [which still has not been delivered!]. We took off from our hotel at 600a and got to the Tower in dramatic sidelighting, with virtually nobody (save for some workers clearing leaves) in the Trocadero plaza opposite the Tower. We made some beautiful photographs, walked up the Champ du Mars, and caught the Metro back. Well, not before stopping at McDonalds for breakfast. The girls were so cute - even excited about the orange juice - and celebrated their first hot breakfast in a week that wasn't crusty bread.

I took our dear student to the Embassy this morning. We rode with the group to the same Metro stop, then they entered the Tuileries on their way to the Louvre, and we crossed the street to find the embassy. Even though I was missing the Louvre, I was happy to volunteer because I, quite honestly, really wanted to see an embassy, and anymore, it seems like you have to have a really good reason to go in one. The location on our maps didn't seem right - and I could tell we weren't in the right place because of the conspicuous lack of heavy security. Even the US embassy in Oslo had barriers that required you to cross the street - ours and Israel's. The sign on the door said that consular services had moved down the street, across the Place de la Concorde. So we walked in that direction, where the presence of armed guards and security fencing confirmed our bearings. I wish the students had had a chance to see this, to see the buffer zone our embassy requires. Maybe it's security theatre, but it just seems unfortunate no matter how you look at it. Anyhow, we got a replacement passport in under 3h and were able to rejoin the group at the Eiffel Tower in the afternoon.

[Public service message to readers who intend to lose their passport in a foreign country: a copy of your passport is invaluable, as is a copy of your passport application or birth certificate, if you have it. Unless you remember your parents' birthdates and locations (which our student did not), in which case you're probably fine without it. A police report of your lost/stolen passport may be required; the Parisian embassy did not ask for it, others do.]

Lilies

Speaking of a macro lens, these weren't taken with one. But they approach the effect more than any photos I've taken (at least recently).

Raspberries

Hello, my name is Jennifer, and I have a problem.

I definitely need a macro lens.

Cherries

Apparently, I'm starting a new series. I haven't forgotten my plans to write about my trip, honest. Summer produce is just so darn photogenic.

Cabbage

A food-porn shot of a cabbage I brought home for my last batch of tortellini soup. (link SFW!)

Water droplets were natural - present when I pulled off the outer leaves.

Hippo Birdie to Meeee!

It's May! Oh dear. I don't recall much of the last half of April. It is that time of the year that sort of accelerates away from me. And then it's August and we're back to school again, it seems. Time to make the long, overly ambitious to-do list for the summer, too.

Before all that, and since it's my birthday at the end of the month, I present my wishlist:

Hand-written letters, poetry, art, etc etc, from friends!


1G SD memory cards. I can't believe these are only $5 now! I think I spent $80 three years ago on one? At this price, I can use a few and not waste time pruning.

Nikon Flash. I can't decide between the SD-400 and the SD-600. I probably want the 600, but the compact size of the 400 is appealing...

Nikon Remote Shutter Button.


Pen Station. Dark Cherry with Raven Black ink. Or maybe Natural Cherry.

Fountain Pen Ink. Standard (not large) cartridges in Raven Black, Amethyst, Cardinal Red.


Blank books. I'm making two significant trips this summer - Europe Tour-o-Matic and Australia/New Zealand - and I want a couple travel journals for recording adventures. (hence all the photographic equipment)


Airplane Scarf. Since I can't find the US Airways flight attendant uniform scarf online anywhere, this would do.

Music: Albums from Brandon Heath, Smalltown Poets, The Sundays, Poi Dog Pondering (but not Volo Volo or Pomegranate).

Sunflowers

Some sunflowers worth pulling off to the side of the road.
A month or two ago. Early evening light.
Nikon d50 SLR. Varying shutter speeds.