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When she was very young, our daughter became afraid when she saw fog for the first time. To help her with her fear our quick reply was that fog was nothing more than a cloud that was lost. Eventually, the fog would be tired of visiting and would go back up into the sky. The best explanation is one that is understood. At that young age she wasn’t ready for the thermodynamics of cloud formation.
A wonderfully foggy day on the Washington Coast. More photographs Lost in Fog.
It is a lovely old building, built in 1822 as a kitchen. Plantation kitchens were set apart from the main house because they would almost always burn down. Better the kitchen should burn down than the main house. I would have loved to go inside to see and photograph the old kitchen but the building was off limits to visitors. The guide said the building was home to a colony of bats that were on the endangered species list. The bats couldn’t be disturbed, so the building was closed to humans.
This was among the first photographs I made with a new digital camera. The two hundred page manual only had about twenty pages of (what I considered) useful functions, so those pages were all I learned. This is what I wanted to learn and felt confident in the use of the camera. Now, on to using the camera in the field...
After making this photograph, I accidentally touched some unknown combination of tiny buttons on the camera and the camera came alive. The EVF began a slide show of my recent photographs, panning and scanning each image and playing some very nice synthetic guitar music. I started laughing because what else was there to do? With no idea how to stop the slide show, I turned the camera off and hoped that the show wouldn't continue when I turned the camera on again.
The lesson learned is you do actually have to learn how to use all the functions of a camera. Which means you do actually have to RTFM.
*As an IT veteran I know there are other interpretations of this Acronym.
This is blog number 600. Wow. A very big thank you to all of you for stopping by and reading these weekly Postcards from the Creative Journey.
I loved sitting in the kitchen on a stormy day. Nana would sit in her rocking chair and I would sit in the other chair and watch her crochet and listen to her stories from the old days. The big stove made it nice and toasty warm and the smells from her cooking were always wonderful. Nana cooked like she did in the old country; nothing written down, all from memory. She said she cooked since she was my age and didn’t need a cook book.
A photograph and story from the Hughes House.
We were eating lunch in Escalante, Utah when some other tourists sat down at a table next to us. They were first time visitors to the United States. In the course of some friendly conversation the man said, “I now understand why Americans are so religious. Looking out on the incredibly beautiful landscape of Utah,” he said, “it’s difficult not to believe in God.”
Sometimes, it takes a different set of eyes to get us to see the truth.
