Some fossils in the Kaibab National Forest overlooking Marble Canyon, #opcOnThisDay in 2015.
Two windows with a view, from this day in 2015
If you have #travel in October and want to participate in a postcard exchange with others travelers this month, take a look at this page for more deets and send me message ASAP–the next cohort goes out this month.
Palm trees in American Samoa.
I’m on board with Pete Brown’s critique of getting paid to “do” what you love:
it reinforces the pattern of exposing all parts of your life and yourself to the market, insisting the only value anything has the profit that can be made from it.
I’d also add that invariably, much of the this work ends up being stuff you don’t enjoy anyway. A photographer trying to monetize their hobby ends up spending far more time doing stuff like marketing on social media, not taking photographs.
My favorite video spoofing Daylight Savings (err…Saving) time is funny as hell and worth the 2.5 minutes of your time. www.youtube.com/watch
Seven years ago today, I was greatly honored to walk one of my closest friends down the aisle for her wedding at Glacier Point in Yosemite. Funny story—she tagged me in her “My Wedding” album on Facebook, and the algo showed it to many of my less-connected friends, who thought she and I had married.
An absolutely glorious sunset paddle, enjoyed On This Day in 2021.
Here’s the story explaining how I started tailgating with a bunch of band moms at ASU games a decade ago.
On This Day in 2017
Boxers in the rain
So there I was…2am, locked out on my patio, and wearing only boxers, during a hearty rainstorm. No keys. No phone. No internet connected device. No shoes.
Just me and my boxers.
And not many options.
So, after a barefoot walk and half-jog down the suddenly-busy-for-2am Cactus Road, waving at honking vehicles, wading through the flooded greenbelt as a shortcut, and generally feeling like an idiot, I arrived a mile or so later at my dad’s doorstep, letting myself in with his hidden key, and locating the spare key to my apartment that I had stashed there.
My dad was sleeping, of course, the rain had stopped, and I now had the key, so I left without waking him and made my way back to my apartment. But not before I grabbed some old sandals I used for kayaking for the trek home (I kept my kayak and associated gear at this house during my time in that apartment). It started raining again a minute or so later.
And just my luck, the front door of my apartment was locked with the deadbolt that only opens from the inside, a fact I had not considered until the moment I turned the key and tried to push the door open. Sigh…
So it was back to my dad’s house again, still in my boxers, still raining. I woke him up this time, dried off and borrowed an ill-fitting pair of old man shorts and a shirt, and looked for a flashlight and some tools, which we discovered were unexpectedly meager. This time, he drove me back over to my apartment. After several ill-fated attempts at deconstructing the patio doors using any and all available tools—and just one stripped screw away from success—we gave up, soaked with sweat from the humidity and thoroughly annoyed. Sunrise was approaching.
Resigned to staying at his place until the office opened and having to pay the (ridiculous) $250 “lock out” fee, I walked past my living room window—which I had never once used because it was mostly inaccessible behind my TV—to see if I could somehow take it apart and gain access.
To my disbelief, I discovered that it was unlocked, and had apparently been unlocked since the day I moved in. (insert long and deep sigh indicating both frustration and relief)
I climbed through, opened the front door, and said goodnight to my dad.
And that’s the reason I will never lean the wooden dowel up against the bedroom sliding door again when I get up in the middle of the night to check out the thunderstorm and then absentmindedly pull the sliding door closed behind me, allowing the dowel to gracefully fall into place in the railing.
That’s a lesson I learned on this day in 2014. (reposted here from Facebook)
Also On This Day, ten years ago, I encountered this end-of-season incoming haboob while hiking in the Phoenix Mountains.
No kayaking again this week 😫 so here are some shots of some fun clouds from On This Day in 2022.
Longstanding personal tradition every time I’m in Tucson.
Sunset over the Apache Trail, On This Day in 2015.
