Dream Tree, come with me

5.28.12:  This tree sits on the property of good friends who are moving out of town.  I took the picture on Sunday night during their farewell gathering of friends and neighbors.  I stopped by the house today to pick up a beautiful bowl she's leaving with me, and when I arrived the orange of the setting sun filled their living room like I've never noticed before.  When I mentioned it she pulled me into the 'sun room' to look out at the tree and the lake not knowing that I had taken the picture the night before.  She cleared the desk and window so we could see, stopped and took a deep breath.  This scene and place she'll always remember and appreciate, and in that moment I think that she placed it in her heart and mind to take with her. 

Taken they'll only be an hour and a half away in New Orleans, and it is their official return to their home city following the federal levee failures after Katrina.  Their home there is so beautiful and it also has a stunning Live Oak tree across the street in a park.  Family and friends are there to welcome them and a renewed lifestyle is ready for their participation.  They'll be missed, and we'll always feel fortunate that they entered our lives seven years ago.  I guess part of this Dream Tree will stay, too, so that we'll always remember and cherish.  :) xo

Her curves take me where I want to go

Another return to the back field today since the machinery in my usual morning spot with Sparkle was very active.  I actually had to go back on my own because she didn't want to make the trek probably because of the humidity.  Once I went through the gate, I stopped to soak in the tree covered with Spanish moss and greeted the gentleman who visits and trains his dog in the space.  I was going to search for wild orchids for a friend, but grabbed a perspective from under the tree instead.  It got me out of the morning sun, and I ended up not leaving the spot until my return home.

I want to say something eloquent about Spanish moss but am not pulling it together the way I'd like to.  There's a feel to the plant, an emotional feel, and I want my words to deliver that feeling. Maybe the best word is 'romantic'.  When I surround myself and go within it, I'm transported to another place, a good feeling place, where I wonder and let myself get absorbed.  :)

Will I see you again tomorrow?

This was my favorite find during a return walk in the back field.  It was SO humid out, and the webs were weighted with dew drops that seemed burdened themselves.  I remember the spectrum effect of past web shots with the sun, and am happy to see that the magic traveled home with me again.

Photo provided by Irene Kato :D

It made it!!  Page 2b in today's Advocate!  :)

Many thanks to The Advocate's Photo Chief John Ballance.  I appreciate his calls and attention to my set of  eclipse photos.  As of last night none of the images made the cut, but I was informed otherwise this morning by a friend.  I'll never forget my lesson about getting everyone's names that appear in my photos.  The 'man with the pinhole solar eclipse' viewer goes down in history.  That photo was the one most likely to be selected, but because I didn't have the man's name it couldn't.  I was crushed then embarrassed that I'd take the editor's time by submitting an image that had a risk of not qualifying.  Lesson learned and learned well.  Nice to have this appear as a follow-up lesson about going for it.

Either way my feelings told me that I care about this hobby and like seeing it go somewhere.  Time to be more conscious and committed with my actions.  My friends and family keep cheering me on, now I have to listen to myself and believe in cheering, too.  :)

5.28.12

A special thanks to friend, Marla Elsea, and her husband, Tim.  I now have a photo print of page 2B in my hands and I'm always appreciative of their support.  :)

Solar Eclipse - Baton Rouge

I drove out to the levee on my own tonight to catch some of the solar eclipse.  Upon arrival I was more than happy to see a small crowd of about twenty people finding the right spot to view with or without their devices.  I especially chuckled over the young man nearly putting his head into his box to check out what was happening.  The man and the woman watching through their iPad sparked my curiosity, too.  With a smile on my face I strolled through the people to stake out a location where I thought I'd avoid the tree line on the Mississippi.  I knew that we wouldn't make it to complete eclipse since the sun was already on its way to set, but I was still very excited when I saw the first little space of the sun covered.  I took a few shots hand held then realized that I wouldn't see much more where I was standing because of the sun's drop into the trees.  Scooting over a bit helped that, and I set the camera on the tripod in back display mode where I could see what was happening very nicely.  I had a good show with the gorgeous sunset colors and a few wispy clouds overhead.  Even with its quick departure, the little that I saw amazed me.  Sure it was a tease because I wanted more, but I was happy and satisfied to have been there.

I did get to meet a few folks who were nearby at the conclusion, a couple of them being the people with the iPad.  It was a nice exchange of images - mine on the camera and theirs on the iPad in real time.  It ends up that the iPad application, 'Star Track' I think it's called, gives you access to a calendar of planetary events, info about each of them, and a way to track and name what's happening in the skies in real time.  So thank you Jay, Adria, Marc and Betsy Fraiolis for sharing in the excitement and giving me a look into your media view of the event.  :)  On the way out I also met a nice group of folks who sat on the levee incline throughout.  I have a silhouette shot of them in the set - Corey, Heidi, Lauren and Laura.  I hope that they all peek in to take a look.  :)

Here's a small album with a few more images of the scene.  :)

I speak for the trees

 I walked out on my own tonight to finally inspect which trees came down over the past couple of days.  It was dark, but I was able to see that the few trees that sat near the 'entry' into the back field are gone with the grass now with dirt in its place.  It's shocking to see, and will be even harder to look at in the morning.  I'd like to return to listen for the song birds that usually sat in the trees that were knocked down.  Where did they go?  Did they escape harms way? 

I continue to hear "The Lorax" quotes in my head as I go along.  This one brings together my concern for the wildlife that lived there:

The Lorax: Yes, I am the Lorax who speaks for the trees, which you seem to be chopping as fast as you please. But I'm also in charge of the brown Bar-ba-loots, who played in the shade in their Bar-ba-loot suits and happily lived eating truffula fruits. Now, thanks to your hacking my trees to the ground, there's not enough truffula fruit to go 'round!
The Once-ler: I see your point. Yes, I do see your point.
The Lorax: They loved living here. But I can't let them stay. They'll have to find food, and I hope that they may. Good luck, boys! Good luck!

Trombone Shorty and Charlie Gabriel - Jazz Fest

The best concert moments don't have to be when the musicians are singing or playing their instruments. Here are two New Orleans greats on stage for the Preservation Hall Jazz Band's 50th Anniversary Set at Jazz Fest 2012. Brass player Trombone Shorty, 26 years old, and Preservation Hall Jazz Band's clarinetist Charlie Gabriel, 80 years old, shared some good times together during the performance. For me their pure joy and cross generational connection was tops. :)

Happy Girl II - Jazz Fest

Photo taken by Andrew Whitehead
Jazz Fest, April 29, 2012

This is my happiness.  Being in New Orleans, attending Jazz Fest, and special times with good friends.  There was a huge crowd for the Acura Stage - Johnny Sansone with Anders Osborne, Trombone Shorty & Orleans Avenue, Dr. John, and Bruce Springsteen.  We didn't move from there except for a bathroom visit and drink run, and it was all good.  Loved it all!!

Here's my set of images from the day. In it are the people and times, as well as my growing wish to one day attend Fest with a press pass hanging around my neck. Either that or a beautiful Grand Marshal pass to give you access front and center to the stages. :)

Remember A Dose of Happy with the Rebirth Brass Band here in town?

Fest4Kidz - the great Jazz Fest ticket giveaway for young NOLA musicians!

I just returned from an evening with the Silence is Violence music clinic teachers, children and parents. Tonight was the night that the Threadheads, the greatest and most giving of New Orleans Jazz Fest fans, distributed t-shirts, spending money, and Jazz Fest tickets to all clinic participants. It really was a wonderful and moving experience. More exciting is the fact that a large group of the kids will be performing on the Gentilly Stage this Saturday at Jazz Fest! Wow. I got to hear a preview of what they will play and they sounded fantastic. I really couldn't listen without tears in my eyes. It's so powerful to see how far these children have come with effort, caring instructors, involved families, and this growing program. Visit silenceisviolence.org for more information about the program and how to support their efforts. If you're someone out there that is already involved, please know that you're making a big difference in the lives of these children and the community. Thank you.

Two girls and a cloud

Another great night of gorgeous weather got the whole family out.   We went to the levee path with our favorite gear - my  husband with his bike and Sparkle, my older daughter with her roller blades, and my youngest with her bike.  Me, of course, carried my camera and of course found myself walking down the incline of the levee towards the grasses and Mississippi to see different perspectives of the sunset.  My girls were calling for me, but before heading back up towards them I took this shot.  I first asked for a pose which didn't work out right.  They must have seen my husband in the distance and both turned at this moment.  The spontaneity worked out great, and that little cloud in the distance was a great plus, too.

I have a thing for my eggs

lol.

I love this egg shot and its processing.  Not sure what it is about it exactly, but I like it.  The muted colors...the textures....the little folded paper strips in between.

Long shadows and happy kids

In elegance

Standing tall, strong and beautiful
In the elegance of light and love

Redeeming late fog

This week we had a couple mornings of fog.  Cool nights and very warm days.  While walking through it on Thursday morning I realized that I had never taken a silo shot in the fog.  With another warm day ahead of us, I hoped for the cold air needed to create the magic light filter I love so much.  I even told one of the teachers I work with that I would arrive late since usual student work wouldn't begin until after a rescheduled class.

Well, the air didn't cool down enough and while the mosquitoes celebrated the warm, wet air I knew that a morning fog wouldn't come.  When I woke, the sky was clear and all trees visible.  I could see the stars as I walked out to the field with Sparkle looking for something else to celebrate.  The sun look very muted behind a set of clouds and I did run through the field to get a better look and photo.  I didn't think anything of it though as I head back home.  Reported in to my husband with the no fog report and went on with the morning preparations.

Soon after he dropped off one of our girls at school, he had me look outside.  "Look, that's fog!"  I looked and just could not believe it.  There it was it the bright light of the risen sun glowing white and green inviting me to join in.  Still surprised I scampered to get my photo equipment and get my youngest to school.  I still couldn't believe it as I drove in through the fog settled in all around us.  I dropped her off and instead of my usual parking for work, I looped right out of that driveway and curved right into the farm field drive. 

As soon as I parked the car I nearly ran to grab the silo perspective.  There was still some fog remnants filtering golden light throughout the field.  There was just enough to make the scene look different than the usual.  Just enough to lift my spirits, wet the thick grass, and dampen my jeans.   The experience carried me into work with a smile, and the photos a reminder of the gifts in unexpected surprises. 

Sunrise two hours earlier

Take my hand - for my girl

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This one is for my nine year old.  She had enjoyed this 'Mommy-Daughter' time so much as we walked on LSU campus, just the two of us. "Let's do this again, Mommy!"

I pulled it up because she's been showing signs of wanting more attention from me, and I think these signs have been happening for months and I just didn't see them.  Now that we're in summer vacation, I haven't found a job yet, and we're home all day together - me with the two girls and Sparkle - it's time to change my routine and habits.  Computer time and editing photos will just have to wait until late night or very early morning.  It's important for our relationship, for her as an individual, and it's needed for me to listen to my heart and battle my tendencies to want to do my own thing.

I love her so very much, and our time together only comes around once. Embrace it.  Embrace her.  BE with the both of them, my beautiful girls.  xo

Glory

What glory to arrive at the farm field during my morning walks and see such a scene.  I took this during a quick visit with Sparkle, just before work.  I knew that I was running short of time and nearly turned back, but just couldn't do it.  The mix of wet gold and greens in the presence of the tree took me in to be with the rising sun.

Some quiet

It's nice to be out and with just yourself as darkness falls.

The grandest of the trees

Two views of what I believe is the largest oak tree on the farm property.  The top is the view from the south, and the bottom is from the north including the silos.  I love this tree.  It's become a point of reference during my walks and I like imagining it with the cows and sheep finding shade under its canopy.  I'm always left to wonder if it will stay once that field is cleared for development.  In the public plans, there is no indication that the road will curve around it or that a special park area will be set up.   I want to see it still there because it tells quite a story of time, strength, and beautiful growth.  How does one even approach cutting down a tree this size that is still alive?  I sometimes have farfetched visions of setting up a protest camp of sorts underneath to stop its destruction.  Do you think that would stop them?

I've been informally collecting stories about the property from the people who remember it as a functioning farm, and I have yet to hear someone mention this tree.  Will make a note to ask when I do get talking to someone again.



AND, let's let this tree post mark my conscious efforts to get back into posting here to Timeline.  I've let myself spend more time posting to Google Plus than blogging.  https://plus.google.com/u/0/103306420672876747825/posts  Pretty address, eh?   I receive more feedback there and am building quite a community of photo friends, yet I still miss entering here to reflect and spend more time on my collection and thoughts.  If anyone is out there reading and if I disappear again, I'm putting out a kind request for you to come find me.  Thank you.  :)

A moment for Nathan Crowson

 

I waited at the Ghost Bike memorial for the Critical Mass cyclists riding in honor of Nathan Crowson, killed by a drunk driver while cycling on January 21, and his riding partner, Danny Morris, recovering with severe injuries in the hospital.  353 cyclists took to the streets from LSU's Clock Tower to ride than night.  Before their arrival I was alone at the memorial watching the cars speed by.  There was a different feel than during my visit earlier in the day keeping in mind that the accident did occur at night, feeling the speed of the cars more as their lights zoomed by.     

Slowly people arrived.  First the local media, then some college students, and a few older women who ended up being family.  A young couple tightly held each other after placing something in the collection of flowers and notes covering the 'ghost bike'.  As a group of blinking lights in the distance approached the site, we all stopped and watched.  The first in the group rode by ringing their bells, then some started to stop or walk their bikes up onto the wet and muddy grass.  They talked quietly, some placed items by the bike, while others walked by thoughtfully towards an area behind us where they'd all meet before moving on.  The cars on the busy road had to move into the middle lane in order to pass by, and while a few seemed supportive there were obnoxious shouts from open windows, too.  I felt the emotional weight of it all as I stood near the bike taking pictures and watching all pass by.

Towards the end of the pack of riders,  there was one cyclist that stood in front of the bike for more than a moment of silence and reflection.  In the midst of it all, the lights, the media, the cars, the people,  he stood.  From the other side of the bike I took a deep breath in and felt like he stopped time.  The hurt of Nathan's death, to his family, friends, and the community, was with us, and we were all looking to heal, needing to heal.  There were no sides to this, it was something affecting all of us.  

 

As the group of cyclists decided to move from their corner meeting point just beyond the ghost bike to another location, one rider went into the road to make sure all was clear.  It was, he called them out, and the pack started to move.  That's when the few of us who lingered behind heard the speeding cars coming down the road.  We turned in a flash and saw two cars racing right towards the group.  The scream couldn't come out of my mouth as others motioned and waved for them to stop.  I saw another tragedy happening, and by some crazy miracle the cars swerved away and slowed down.  Not all saw from our perspective, but I had to step back to the bike, lean on the pole with the red painted flowers, and weep silently over the avoided terror.  It really was too much, too close, as if the city and those gathered needed another reminder about the risks of riding on roads with dangerous drivers.  The photo of the women holding each other in the set below captures the minutes after the scare.

Somewhere in the mix of this experience with just a few of us left behind, I met Nathan's friend who had painted the heart and stenciled art on the road.  I didn't ask if she had done the flowers on the pole, too, but when she saw that I was genuinely interested, she let me know that she created the stencils from Nathan's art as something meaningful for his friends.  I let her know that I was touched by them too when I first saw them earlier that day without even knowing their background story.  Now when I look they say something more about Nathan's presence in their lives.

So where do I leave this?  With continued thoughts for Nathan's family, friends and daughter.  With our community affected by the tragedy.  With Nathan's friend that rode with him that night as he continues to recover from severe injuries.  With the driver of that car and his family.  It's been suggested that we put more energy into improving the safety infrastructure for pedestrians and cyclists than anger towards the drunk driver.  It's a very challenging thing to do, but it will move us out of the tragic time of Nathan's death and loss and into moments for Nathan and our community where we'll work together for change.

His bike was red

Nathan Crowson was hit and killed by a drunk driver while riding his bike on Perkins Road in Baton Rouge at 8:45 PM on January 21, 2012. He died instantly, and Danny Morris, the friend he rode with, was in an induced coma in critical condition as of this afternoon.  Nathan was an experienced cyclist and commuted to work on bike for years.  He was known as a friend, good father, and talented artist.

I visited his Ghost Bike memorial set up at the location where he died.  There's a white bike covered in mementos, flowers, notes.  Spray-painted red flowers on the base of nearby poles.  A stenciled heart in the road near the bike.  A little stuffed animal sits behind the large votive candle, and a note his 5 year old daughter wrote laid on the ground near the front wheel.  The little girl attends my Unitarian church, and that was my initial connection to this accident after learning about it through a Facebook post on my church's page.  Then it unraveled so much more in me that I felt compelled to visit, to photograph, and share the story with others.

When I first moved to Baton Rouge 7 years ago with my husband and then 2 year old daughter, I met a woman and her also two year old at a local children's activity.  We became friends, and one day she shared with me the horrible story of losing her husband in a cycling accident on a River Road, an area known for cyclist training sessions.  A driver drove into the team and killed him and a teen rider.  Their son was born soon after and named after the father.  It's a heartbreaking story, and that feeling returned once I learned about Nathan and the daughter he leaves behind.

Her story, Nathan's, Danny's along with the thousands of cyclists in Baton Rouge who struggle everyday to ride safely, need to be shared and talked about to move ourselves and the city to action to improve the roads for pedestrians and riders.  We're designed to transport cars, and that's about it.  Drivers brains are wired to rule the road and get to where they have to go, not share the road with others who choose a different means of getting around.  It's very frustrating, to say the least, to be living in a city, the capital city no less, where such a physical and mental structure exists.

You find hope though when you meet someone like Matt Love.  He came out from a nearby office while I was visiting the memorial.  He asked what I was doing, and I told him that I wanted to blog about what happened in hopes that people will learn and want to improve the city's conditions for cyclists.  It ends up that he was a cyclist himself, and we talked a bit about the accident and city's situation.  We shared similar concerns, but his from the experience as a cyclist.  I found out that he actually rides quite a distance everyday to work, and that he's found a way to avoid busy roads.  It ends up that he crosses the farm property that I visit nearly everyday, and while that's something I smiled about, that's also what has to change for cyclists like Matt.

I also learned about a few advocacy organizations from him. http://ghostbikes.org/, BRASS - Baton Rouge Advocates for Safer Streets and The Baton Rouge Bike Club, as well as an informational letter written by the bike club's president, Tom Clement.  I'll definitely visit the sites, and I recommend a read of his well written letter here.  You'll be floored by our city's statistics when it comes to safety for cyclists, and hopefully moved to get involved and become proactive in moving progress along.  

Thank you, Matt Love, for stepping out there to speak with me and spend a bit of time.  I really appreciate it.

And Nathan's bike.  It was red.  Something that seems so trivial in light of the tragedy, but I learned about it while checking out the Critical Mass bike ride info tonight (which I will write about, too).  For some reason I found his bike color and the photo of the red flowers stencil resonated with me the most.  Maybe it's just that something in me knowing him a bit more and wanting to do something to help.