Look, Bird tweets:
More! Pictures! (Seriously.)



Not All Reds and Golds

This looks like Spring, but I was amazed to find it at the Denver Zoo in the heart of autumn, just before our first freeze. 


Pinning Down Autumn


Denver Old and New



What Democracy Looks Like

18.365 38mm f5.6 1/125 ISO 100Many years ago I met a lovely Czech guy while I was traveling in India.  Our paths dovetailed for a time and I remember clearly that he was reading Orwell's 1984.  One evening he asked me, "if you could live in any kind of government, what would it be?" and I was dumbfounded because it had never occurred to me to even think about that question until that moment.  I was so well-trained to unflinchingly consider democracy to be the ultimate form of government that I didn't even consider the options.  I needed to meet a peer who grew up behind the Iron Curtain, being kicked out of school for reading Vaclav Havel and listening to rock 'n roll, to even consider the philosophical implications of it all.  (For the record, he wanted to experiment with anarchy.)  It was one of those moments that crystalizes what's so amazing about travel.

I think most of us Americans, left or right, can agree on one thing: our government doesn't seem to be doing a very good job of representing us right now.  I, the very definition of a "likely voter," even considered skipping this election because a) it seems annoyingly futile and b) my gal is sure to win anyway.

But I made it to the early voting location this evening just in time to get in line before they closed the door.  And I stood in line figuring it was a good sign that all these people in my neighbhorhood were there to vote.  When I got to the front of the line the yellow-vested poll worker pulled a ballot off the shelf for me, and I had to laugh at the perfect metaphorical imagery sitting there.  Yeah, this democracy is a dirty business.  And the more I know about it, the more I want to wash my hands. 

But I still can't think of a better system.


In Praise of Limitations

17.365 200mm f5.6 1/60 ISO 1800On my drive home from work yesterday a friend who has been checking in on this space said, "I've noticed that you take a lot of the pictures in the morning.  Is that because you're sharper in the morning?  Or because you're just looking forward to it so much that you want to do it first thing?"  And I wanted to say yes (she's probably partly right) but I had to admit that it's mostly because the light is so good at the time of day I drive to work that it's hard to go wrong.  It's one way to make it easier.

But even as we were  having that conversation my mind was whirring about how I hadn't taken a picture yet today, and there was a toddler to pick up from school and feed, and the best of the light was already gone, and I was going to have to shoot at home and anyway, there is nothing interesting to shoot around my house right now. 

When we pulled up at the house I fished a forgotten baggie of Cheerios out of my camera bag, sat Ezra on the porch, and set out in search of something to shoot in the front yard.  I have no idea what this flower used to be, but I do know that I've been meaning to cut its autumn corpse back.  But when I looked at it today I saw how, with a shallow depth of field, this desicated little blossom became graphically interesting. 

And then I sent up a little thanks to the gods of autumn, and my brain stopped its whirring.