Oct 30, 2003

Oct 30, 2003
Dry Creek in Roseville
off biketrail off Walerga, north of PFE
1:30 p.m.
Much cooler than it's been - clear, sunny, but maybe mid 60's

Still trying out the Polaroid 450 - not sure about focusing -



Right next to the road here, steady stream of cars passing by, along with the semi's associated with building the big new development on the other side of the creek.

I fiddle with the 450 a bit & I think I might have found the problem - a sticky spring on the bottom support structure of the bellows that controls the focus -

I'll have to see if Scott can help with it, but for now I'll go get a trusty 250 from the car, already loaded with the 665 film, to explore the creek a bit more with - I'll probably try the same shots to compare the focusing of the two cameras.



I return to the creek with the 250 - I get the sharp image I've come to expect - now if I could get more reliable shutter speeds, too, I'd be set. Cameras have been on my mind too much lately - I'd like to set aside the technical glitches and focus on the work, the images and feelings. Even with the sounds of passing cars and heavy construction in the background, I hear the calls of birds: little swee's and tsi tsi tsi sounds, as well as the occasional squaw of someone larger...

The creek is hardly dry right now, though I know full well it could be this time of year. It's fully 20 feet across here, a foot or more deep, and running swiftly. Many times I've seen fishermen here, so I'm sure it supports some decent sized fish. All sorts of weedy looking plants grow here, green with a little brown about the edges - the birds take opportunity of a short lack of traffic to twitter a bit more to each other - the green that lines the creek is in strong contrast to the straw pale dryness of the surrounding fields.

I start away from the creekside and find a pair of white cabbage butterflies dancing around each other, but they're off before I can get a good look to sketch them.



I head out toward the open field, away from the creek, there I'm greeted by large flying grasshoppers - brip brip brip brip brip - again, too fast to sketch.



Time is running out - I have mom-duties to attend to - but I'm going to bring myself back here soon.

empire mine

Oct 14, 2003
Empire Mine State Park
Grass Valley
after noon
warm - 70's, clear and sunny

Hiking along "Hardrock Trail" with Lisa and her kids and my kids - everyone has at least one camera...


Orlean's Stamp Mill Foundation with golden tree

from self-guided tour map: " This foundation supported a stamp mill that was powered by a water-driven Pelton wheel. The mill crushed ore from the Orleans Mine until about the turn of the century when it became unprofitable." guess that says it all...


Crossing Little Wolf Creek Bridge

Stopping to check out the creek, lots of picture taking all around. Phil & Dee "point" out a hawk's call. Dee reads to me from her journaling:

"Gentle winds, trees, broken twigs, cries of a hawk, the gentle gurgling of the creek, a loud 'huk! huk! huk!' of a strange bird flying overhead. Wasps are drinking. Flies and gnats fly everywhere. Still, it's a very peaceful place, full of nature. Ferns cover the ground. The deepest part of the creek is about a foot deep."


Little Wolf Creek Bridge

Low light forces the camera into a long exposure, slow shutter speed, so motion soft image is my only choice. Too much going on - kids, etc. - makes it hard for me to concentrate.

Rock tossing has become the favored sport, the mom in me is trying hard not to worry about someone getting hit. They really are having a good time and discovering how icy the water is.

From the guide: "The streamside environment of this creek is being restored to a more natural condition. Non-native blackberries, Scotch broom and other shrubs are being replaced with plants that belong in a stream environment."


Little Wolf Creek Road
"This road was built for trucks that carried waste rock from the Empire Mine to road construction sites to the Southwest."

Lots of walking through warm dusty trails, through sand tailings and over waste piles - huge piles of gravel - then back along the road, which makes mothers very nervous, back along the outside stone wall and into gardens surrounding the cottage.



garden path

Inside the stone walls, plenty of lawns keep it feeling cooler. Children, tired but rowdy, are ready to call it a day.

capitol park

Oct 13, 2003
5 p.m.
Capitol Park
very comfortable - 70ish - clear blue sky
shooting with Hemispheres students

Not too much street noise, Columbus Day is a state holiday, all the state workers are home today.


East end of capital park, rose garden gate

Squirrels are ever-present here and in no short supply!

Trying to keep an eye out for all my students, watching out without being over-protective or squashing spirit.


Western Catalpa tree with rose garden gate and memorials

peaceful point

Oct 4, 2003
3:30ish?
Peaceful Point, Lake Almanor
warm - 70's
strong wind

The loudest thing I hear is the great whir of the wind through the pines - much different than how wind sound rustling through leaves in the valley - then the steady slapping water gently on the rocks of the point, a boat motor in the distance nears, then passes the point, keeping clear of the buoys warning of shallows.



The grass is wiry and mostly yellowed, with some blades still clinging to green, and even the pines have yellowed a bit after the long, dry summer. I have to secure all my papers and loose photos, to prevent the steadily growing wind from stealing them away.



The sun goes behind a cloud for a moment and the whole sky seems to darken. The rocks on the shore are hard edged, not rounded, and I can see where one has been broken from the cycles of freezing and thawing. How many seasons did that feat take to accomplish? A few weedy plants poke up between the rock. One pretty little one looks like an ornamental strawberry - sort of.

Another has tiny outstretched leaves, yet another is almost a pale aqua, fuzzy and narrow leaved.

The sun has come out again and the rocks seem less ominous once again. I wander around the narrow peninsula and find an old bleached log on the grass like the bone of a long-dead tree - and wait for the sun & cloud to adjust to my liking - the light is constantly changing.



The light changes again, I move and try another shot. I've also discovered that the coater stick for my new film pack has dried out - it's plastic container was cracked and broken - so I have to return tot he car for the old one, from which I can eke out just enough fixative to save the instant prints. At least I will have the negs regardless.

I wander out to the tip of the peninsula and think I see a photo. I force it out. It doesn't work. Photos, like all art, should never be forced - I wander some more and force out another - I should have just quit while I was ahead.





I haven't seen many birds: earlier some kind of large fishing bird and then a turkey vulture overhead. Then three smaller birds floating on the water and diving a bit. I hear a couple calls over the surface of the lake but nothing clear and nothing up close.

There are tiny tiny clam shells scattered here and there, not more than half and inch across. I find myself missing the ocean and mourning the passing of summer.