Light/Breezes

Light/Breezes
SUNRISE AT DEATH VALLEY-Photo by Tom Cochrun
Showing posts with label Yosemite National Park. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Yosemite National Park. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 25, 2015

IT'S WILD and NOT SO

SHOW TIME
   There's been an unusual amount of commotion along the Cambria to San Simeon shoreline this year.
Photo by Mike Griffin
   The warmer ocean has brought an extraordinary number of humpback whales closer to shore.
    It is a great enjoyment to hear the oohs and ahhs and wonderment of tourists who maybe seeing their first whale up close.
   The Central Coast has been a beautiful western stage this summer.
BEARS
     I am an unabashed fan and enthusiast of Yosemite National Park, wishing that everyone could visit and feel the experience.
     The park prepares excellent video reports and this piece on bears, featuring some almost unbelievable historic footage is too good not to share with readers of this blog.
Enjoy.

A SLO TREASURE
  We recently discovered the Leaning Pine Arboretum on the Cal Poly campus in San Luis Obispo.  What a jewel it is!














Meanwhile, back at the ranch…
    See you down the trail.

Thursday, September 11, 2014

FOOTBALL ABUSE, A JUDGEMENT-BETTER DAYS AT YOSEMITE-DROUGHT TOLERANT AND A THROWBACK

AN INEVITABLE JUDGEMENT
   A group of us sat around a table talking about the concept of judgment. I offered that most of us, despite any differences on other matters probably agreed about Ray Rice, the now suspended NFL star seen knocking out his fiancee.
   The current Sports Illustrated asks what the Ray Rice matter tells us about the NFL?  It's a huge enterprise, enormously wealthy and feeds a massive audience. At the bottom it is all about money, even greed perhaps.
    The league has serious troubles in that many of the gladiators are barely above the rank of street thug. Football programs since their childhood have permitted if not contributed to the condition. Schools tolerated only a pretense of education so star talent could play. Young men learn athletic skills but may know little about civility and how to be mature men. Character is rarely coached or taught. Strength, power and athleticism is valued. Off field violence and run ins with the law are all too frequent. The NFL has been woefully negligent in caring about much more than the big show and the big dollars.
    I know good men of up standing character who have been NFL players and even stars. There are many and some are truly extraordinary. Tony Dungy is a man I admire, respect and hold up as a role model. But all of the good men in the league, be they coaches, players or team executives, have less influence than the real power-that exclusive club of team owners whose primary interest is money. The Commissioner is their employee. They make the rules. They own the players. Sometimes they bilk money from cities to build huge stadiums where they can earn many more millions. They have extraordinary control and they can and should do a better job of riding heard on their combatants. 
      A small little personal experience is a window into the owner run league. When the league can tell a local television station where they can and cannot shoot, when they can and cannot shoot, even in a municipally funded stadium-public space, even if it is not football footage, it demonstrates the autocratic power they exert. So the democratic balance of power should be such that society can tell the league to get serious about criminal activity. They can control their fiefdoms, but the public can demand enforcement of regulations that respect and honor public law and statutes.
       There is news the owner of the San Francisco 49'ers suspended a team broadcaster for comments that could have been interpreted as insensitive. I think he just made a simplistic or even stupid comment about women who are victims of abuse. It is not just a matter of a victim speaking up as his comments implied. I don't think the radio announcer wanted to come even close to saying he condoned the abuse, but his comment underscores how little the public knows about the psychology and pathology of this kind of abusive relationship.  Still, he's out for two games. Yet you have to wonder about players, who are still playing, despite previous offenses of spousal abuse or criminal behavior. It's probably easier to penalize a broadcaster than bench a star.  Who's going to put the most money back in the leagues pocket?
      So, yes, there is a lot opportunity to judge. A judgement most of us have made is that if there had not been video of Ray Rice knocking out his fiancee, he'd still be playing. What does that say about how serious is the league?
DROUGHT TOLERANT
      It is a fascinating mystery how Coyote Brush can remain green when all around it withers and browns in drought. Also called Chaparral Broom it is not only drought tolerant, it's a nectar source for wasps, butterflies and flies.
    Wild fennel also tolerates drought.
   We've hiked past this plain when its nature as a wetland is apparent. Life here awaits rain.
   A lot of nature seems stressed by the third year of the California drought.  The owner of this Live Oak said he's never seen it produce acorns, let alone such an abundance.
   Those who know say it is a type of self protective response. 
   Dying Monterey Pine will often produce an abundance of cones, apparently as a kind of last hurrah. So many rhythms and subtexts in nature.
WHERE YOSEMITE BURNS
   Revisiting shots taken on a trip to Yosemite-trying to get my mind around the fire.
   More than a hundred people were helicoptered out the area near half dome. About 4,500 acres have been burned. 400 firefighters and 8 helicopters have it about 10% contained.  Hoping for cooler and damp weather to help.
     Those who helicoptered from here have adventures to tell.
 THE THROWBACK
     1965- On assignment, covering a county fair. That square microphone and cable?  They connect to a reel to reel recorder, now ancient technology. I was a college freshman, working on room and board. This is the first "promotional" shot I participated in. That's a polaroid I'm holding, probably the photographers test shot.

See you down the trail.

Thursday, June 5, 2014

IMMORTALITY and THE GREAT CRUSADE

FROM JUNE TO HISTORY
    Time records extraordinary courage and human insight on two June 6ths.  
     Most recently, 70 years ago General Dwight Eisenhower called it "the Great Crusade," the D-Day invasion immortalized by the bravery of warriors, so many of whom ended their own mortal journey on the beaches of Northern France. A personal D-Day beach reflection follows below.
    75 years before that a single man, venturing into the unknown pondered human existence and the infinite.
EVERY NERVE QUIVERS
    John Muir made his first visit to Yosemite in the summer of 1869. On June 6th he wrote-
                     "We are now in the mountains and they are
                       in us...making every nerve quiver."    
       It seems that it has always been such for Yosemite.
     In 1851 an ongoing battle between gold miners and the native inhabitants, American Indians, reached a point where the famous Mariposa Battalion was sent in. Probably from the moment the Battalion saw the place, word about its beauty began to spread.
          On June 30,1864 President Abraham Lincoln set aside a grove of sequoias in the valley.  That marked the creation of the first state park in the US. 
        Naturalist John Muir, who spent years exploring the wilderness, campaigned for federal park status. It took 26 years and in 1890 Yosemite became a national park.
   Later on June 6, 1869 Muir wrote-
         "Our flesh and bone tabernacle seems transparent
         as glass to the beauty about us, as if truly an 
         inseparable part of it, thrilling with the air and trees
         streams and rocks, in the waves of the sun-a part of 
         all nature, neither old nor young, sick nor well, but
         immortal."
       Two rivers, the Merced and the Tuolumne flow through the park. There are 196 miles of road and 800 miles of trails. 
        The waterfalls are a signature, always spectacular, and even more so after a winter with lots of snow.


 Do you see the sprite or spirit dancing out of this falls in this frame?
      The land is described as "colossal."  Indeed it is.  It ranges from 2,000 feet to 13,000 and most of it is true wilderness.




    As Muir said on his first summer in Yosemite "How wonderful the power of its beauty."
    WHERE FICTION CARRIES TRUTH
    A scene from my novel The Sanibel Arcanum has the protagonist, Tim Calvin visit Utah Beach, a D-Day invasion sight with Stroutsel a Jewish survivor who had been part of the French underground resistance.
  The beach was windswept, large and angry.  The gray sky hung low over the rough choppy water, and the surf pounded the beach with an intensity that bordered on animosity. Old enforcements and battle walls, pill boxes and even strands of barbed wire were visible, while cattle grazed over the dunes in fields where one of the decisive engagements of mankind's warfare had been played out in blood.
    "You can sense the terrible loss just standing here," Tim said more to the wind than Stroutsel, whose face was turned toward the beach.  "Doesn't this bring back the anger, the hatred?"
     Stroutsel cut the misty wind of the beach with his gravel-like voice.  "Do not be eager in your heart to be angry, for anger resides in the bosom of fools. That's from Solomon in Ecclesiastes, Calvin, it would do well for all of us to remember it."
     They stood, wrapped in silence and reflection as in a place of prayer as sand, wind and salt spray assaulted them.  Stroutsel faced squarely into the wind."Baruch, atah- Adonai-Blessed are though, O Lord, my rock who trains my hands for war and my fingers for battle.  My loving kindness and my fortress, my stronghold and my deliverer, my shield and He in whom I take refuge.
      Tim stood transfixed by the moment and the sweeping emotions which girded them against the ghosts of this killing beach.
      "We are a mere breath, our days are like passing shadows," Stroutsel's voice faded as he walked north his eyes cast on the sand and looking out to the sea.  Tim let him go.  He walked to the memorials and read the names of those young men who had fallen on this strip of sand and sea."

    On Utah Beach alone some 2,500 US troops and 1,900 allied troops were killed. Thousands of others were killed on the other landing beaches as well as glider pilots and Naval support troops.  The Germans lost between 4 and 9 thousand  on D-Day.

    There is an almost palpable presence that remains on those Norman beaches.

    See you down the trail.

Tuesday, October 1, 2013

A GOVERNMENT OF STOOGES

HE SAID IT RIGHT
     As soon as I started shooting the sign this morning, more than a dozen others got out their cars and began doing likewise. I felt like a translator at the UN, explaining the best that I could.  Japanese, Chinese, Greek, Swedes, Italian and French.  Those who spoke or understood English then translated to a growing crowd of others who swelled the road side crowd.  
     The Ranger Booth at the Tioga Pass entrance to Yosemite was under siege. No one, except those with printed reservation forms were being admitted. The Rangers were doing their best to remain cool and apologize. More than once they sympathized with foreign visitors who were here for what is likely their once and only visit to the iconic American vistas.
     We were saddened for those who will miss the views that should be on everyone's bucket list.  We visit frequently and it was easy for us to shake it off, not so for the others.
     He must have been a Russian, at least by my guess of his accent.  He was explaining to traveling companions, loudly as he walked back to his car.
      "To close this park.  They are a government of stooges!"
Agreed, I thought to myself.
    We drove on to other destinations.  On our way out we passed the group of Brits who shared our lodge dining room only an hour or so earlier.  A group of 20 or so had rented Corvettes and are touring California.  There they were, bright, shiny convertibles, in a caravan headed west on 120
toward the gate where the besieged ranger probably wished he could tell the increasingly long line of cars that he worked for a government of stooges.
    See you down the trail.