Enter the Gray

The inevitable finally happened, the blue skies disappeared behind a wall of gray clouds and the sun became a distant memory. Okay, that's a very melodramatic way of saying it's going to be raining for a while and there's not much that can be done about it. I went to a photography workshop yesterday afternoon, and one of the things the instructor said to do was embrace the overcast sky and the lighting it affords. That sounds potentially soggy to me, given those gray skies' penchant for moisture, but she does have a point. If you can't make the sun shine, you might as well get used to it. Given the looming clouds, this morning's sunrise wasn't really on my radar. However, when I looked out the window it was obvious there was more going on than expected. The autumn trees peeping up from below added some welcome spots of color, and I was glad I had dashed out of the house in my rather unkempt state to capture the show. What a great way to start a morning. After church and lunch, it was time for that favorite activity of grocery shopping. I am hard pressed to think of a chore I dislike more than spending money on stuff that I then have to figure out what to do with, cook, freeze, etc. To make it a little more entertaining, I decided to go for a walk in the local area and see if there was anything interesting in the neighborhood. 

Fall and spring are great times to find colorful patches in yards, even if the skies are gray.

This particular "patch" was kind of hard to miss. From the sign on the driver's side door, it was somebody's swap meet treasure. I'm just curious if the wife was as excited as the husband over this rare find.  A little farther down the road there was what appeared to be an abandoned orchard, with neglected apples drooping over the post and wire fence. Next to that was a peaceful trickle of water (for now, soon it's likely to be a raging torrent), and alongside that was a stately willow tree. I went back the same way I  had gone because quite often you miss something the first time around, as was the case today. I saw bright orange blobs out of the corner of my eye and realized a pumpkin patch, in various stages of being harvested, was growing behind someone's house. You never know what you're liable to find growing, grazing, or clucking in various parts of Portland.

This next story has nothing to do with any of the pictures, and in fact there are no pictures to go with it but I'll see what I can do with words. Yesterday was the last weekend for the local farmers' market, which is always a sad occasion because it seems to add a note of finality to summer's end. I was walking up the street carrying a load of corn and green beans and realized I would go right past the strawberry bushes that are planted alongside the road. Surprisingly, there were still a number of green berries and new blooms to be seen. Farther down the road was an elderly man with a gapped-tooth grin and absent-minded professor hair. I've only seen snippets of Back to the Future, but just envision Christopher Lloyd at this point. He called me up to where he was sitting amongst the strawberry plants trimming the extra long runners. Seemingly oblivious to the soggy ground he sat on, he introduced himself as Roger and held out a gloved and rather grimy finger for me to shake, reminiscent of a pinky swear. He then gave me several of the plant cuttings as well as instructions on how to plant them. I thanked him and said goodbye. As I walked on, Roger's voice followed me as he continued singing a little tune, with strawberries apparently being the main subject. Considering the condition of those plants, they obviously enjoy Roger's singing.

Evening Strolls and Afternoon Rambles

It seems you just never know what is going to be around the corner, even when in a familiar area.  I've been grounded from running for the last few months due to some injuries so the camera has been an even more constant companion.  Now that summer is finally here (well, mostly here), I've been enjoying an evening stroll after work.  Last week while walking in a different neighborhood, I passed a Buick. Wildcat that had seen better days  I'm a sucker for old cars. I can't imagine anything we drive now becoming a classic in 40 years (who would want a 40 year old Prius?), but then maybe that's what people said back in the 1950's and 60's. Despite the rust and peeling paint, this old Wildcat still had that muscle car attitude.

Earlier last week week, I was in a different neighborhood enjoying the evening twilight (it is nice to have long summer evenings, it makes up for the 4:00 p.m. darkness in the winter) and was struck by the way the sun was bouncing off this upturned rose.  It was rather like a spotlight shining on the lead character on stage in an empty theater. Fortunately, the effect lasted long enough for me to fiddle with the manual exposure on my camera. It's almost impossible (well for me anyway) to take a picture right the first time. If something happens quickly I might as well not even try for a shot, or else be satisfied with something so overexposed it's unrecognizable or a totally black screen.  Good thing roses are not prone to sudden movements.

Near downtown Portland there are rows of older homes that ooze character and charm.  It's difficult to take a picture that encompasses the entire house because they tend to be very near the sidewalk and then there is the matter of the trees looming over everything. If you want a picture of tree limbs and maybe a bit of roof line, you've come to the right place. I've learned to just take pictures of one or two aspects of the house, something that sets it apart from the others. This is a good example, I mean how many houses have yellow and purple stair railings?

Probably one of the more unusual things I've come across was the railroad castle. It's not every day you walk along the road in Vancouver, Washington and come across a castle sitting near the railroad tracks, or near anything else for that matter. And there wasn't just a castle (but wait, there's more!). There was a small pond nearby and what appeared to be a mill house perching on the edge of the water. This of course was a photo op not easily passed up. The sun was not in an optimal place for taking pictures, although here in Portland anytime the sun is out we consider that optimal, but with a little bobbing and weaving I managed to get some shots that weren't totally bleached out.

The main purpose I had in walking along this particular road was to get a picture of Mt. Hood from the river. According to Google maps, and we know it's always accurate, there was a good view of Mt. Hood at the end of a street that ran right to the water's edge. The only problem was there was no mention of the chain link fence that all but blocked the view. Once again, with a little focusing and zooming, and holding my left eyebrow just right, I managed to get some pictures that were something like what I had in mind and had more mountain in them than chain link. If I'd known that part of taking pictures was being able to contort into all sorts of shapes, I'd have paid more attention in ballet class.