History Lesson:

If you're old as I am and love photography, you'll enjoy these old WPA photos.  Kodachrome had a few problems at birth, but within a year or two became the premier color film of all time.  Nothing has ever surpassed it for resolution and archival qualities.  Sadly, it has essentially died out and only one lab in the world will still process it, and then only 35mm.

The WPA was a good thing for America at the time, and because they paid professional photographers to document the program we have a legacy of photographs, many in color, that realistically documented that period in our history.  This site is well worth a look if you like American history and photography. 
  Open the website and turn up your sound. 

http://www.openmyeyeslord.net/ALookBackInHistory.htm  

I haven't been up in Hunter Creek Valley for about a month due to crappy conditions getting in there.  Icy trails, half mud, half blue ice, but I finally managed to get out and about today.  These days, though, you have to step lively due to the sun going behind Snowmass Mountain at around 4:15, which plunges the valley into deep, inky blue shade.  The temperature seems to plummet as the radiation from our high altitude sun disappears and I feel what the true temperature is.  Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.  But, walking around in the untracked snow schlepping along my backpack, I keep pretty toasty.  Slowly, the gloves come out and on, then a hat, finally the last layer is dug out of the backpack and I reach my oft-photographed old farm, the Bullock's.  The snow all around is tracked up by the returning herds of elk and mule deer as the drop down out of the high country in search of browse.  They are still a thousand feet or so above me, and I can here the elk whistling as they gather.  The valley floor here is the one source of water as all the other little trickles posing as streams have dried up and left Hunter Creek as an exclusive source for mountain clear water.  The creek is on the one equalizer here in the backcountry as all the critters must come down to at at one point or another.  That means that the coyotes, fox, badgers, beavers, elk, mule deer, hawks and owls have to share at least some of the stream.  As our weather and winter closes in, the stream will freeze over leaving only pools that create neutral zones.  I wonder how they figure it all out and schedule their trips down in order to minimize the friction between the nations.  The bears have gone to bed, so they opt out of those meetings, I guess.  Soon, though, the raptors and the hunters will aggressively start to go after the young, the old and the infirm.  Especially as the snows grow deeper and deeper.  The coyote and fox can run atop the crusty stuff while those with long spindly legs must post-hole through the debilitating depths.  Given a night off, the valley floor becomes a playground of eating, posturing and survival. 
But, it's Saturday night, the best night to do laundry in my funny little building as I will have both washers and both driers to myself as my fellow residents are out and about.

1) What gift(s) would you like to give the world?

Clean water, clean power.

2) What is the most unusual gift you have received?

Kangaroo pajamas with pouch and little 'roo.

3) What do you like best about gift giving?

Watching the happiness spread

4) What gifts do you want for the holidays?

Contentment for me, family and friends in all that we do.

5) When has a gift(s) made you feel warm and fuzzy inside?

When my cousin John Kremer told me about his commitment to building a community center in Rwanda and I steered a long-time dear friend his way, thus involving us both in a small, but great effort.


photo of the twins with their new goofy goggles

Sarah sings Joni in one of my faves for this time of year.

1) What new experience(s) did you have in 2008?

     2) What inspired you in 2008?
That Yes, We Can

     3) What challenged you this year? 
Not Worrying, Because, Yes, We Can

     4) What new person or people entered your life?
The Man Who Said, Yes, We Can

     5) Which global event(s) had a strong impact on you?
When People Stood Shoulder to Shoulder and Voted, Saying, Yes, We Can!

I belong to http://www.photo.net/, a photo critiquing site, and found this article there on rediscovering one's passion for photography.  It is a great, two-part article that deals with finding one's passion, bringing it to the fore, dealing with being stuck creatively and moving forward.  It has some fun exercises and activities as well. 
The article is photo-centric, but can easily be applied to anything creative. 
Give it a read!

http://photo.net/learn/photography-business/rediscover-passion-for-photography/drive-to-create/

Winter means long hours, cold weather, mobs of tourists, each one sillier than the last, and very, very little sleep.
This is the time of year when Aspen and our surrounding little towns swell from around 8,000 people to over 30,000, all in the same amount of space, of course.
So, today is my first day shift in some time and I awoke this morning around 2:30, the usual time I tend to go to bed when on a night shift.  I gave up at 5, got up and made some orange juice, cereal and started my coffee.  Currently, on my little porch there are no degrees whatsoever.  They have all left and gone to warmer climes, I think.  So, I lay out the clothes I will need for a 10 hour shift of switching back and forth from standing outside in our weather and directing traffic around the latest wreck, or in my patrol car, or at our version of an airport trying to keep everyone calm, if not civil, at least.
On my days off, though, is when I leave the confines of our town and get out to explore the white emptiness of Colorado in winter.  Strange as all the color seems to be sucked out of the environment which, in summer, can be so vibrant and verdant.  It can be a bit of a challenge with my camera as I have to think in black and white with lots of gray tones in between.
Growing up, my school was the harbor and refuge from a Wisconsin winter and I was wise to pick a desk near the old cast iron steam radiators.  Warm in winter, and near a window in fall and spring.  Then, winter was a long trudge in darkness to school, hours spent trying to pay attention long enough to get the concept, then I could drift off into my own little world until I heard a voice asking me if I had heard anything just said?!
So, far now, winter will mean lots of work, very early mornings, some missed days at the gym and darkness.

     Solstice, what a delightful time!  The long pull is ending for us in the El Norte' and we celebrate a plodding but sure return to Old Sol's warmth.
     But, did you know that if you rise early enough on Solstice, walk, hike, run, ski or snowshoe far enough, and look carefully enough, and wait patiently enough, you will see what only happens on Solstice.
     Sitting quietly, ever so quietly, so as to hear the music of the dark woods, drifting, drifting through the feathery flakes and fog.  The towering firs, spruces and pines will don their finery and glisten with the heavy white cloaks they wear at this time of year.  Then, and only then, and only for one song, one brief moment, they will dance with the aspens!
     Not a slow dance, but a swaying dance through the snowed in forest floor, they embrace, twirl their heads in the heady mist and fog as snow falls in rhythm to their limbs.
     Trance-like you will sit, taking in the sight, that only comes but once a year, and only if all is just right.
     No talking, no singing, no whispering, too.  Sit silent and see the dancing trees.  For when that one song ends, the last note may linger, but not for long, and then it's gone.  But not forever. 
     Return to the glade, return to the woods.  Sit ever so quietly, ever so curiously and wait to see, and if everything's just right, the trees will dance again on that night.

     This is a recent email from my wonderful cousin, John.  It has to do with his, and
Floriane's, recent work in Rwanda where they are building a children's village for the scores of orphans that were made after the horrid events there.
      John and I grew up together, a scant few miles apart.  I was always the one with a hammer or wrench in my hand, making things or fixing things.  John was always the one with an idea, a dream or plan.  Someday, I will regale you all with his summertime job where he bought a parachute from the local Army-Navy surplus store and was selling "rides" with it!
     Anyway, here is a recent update and what he and Floriane are doing.  Imagine what $200 does here in the US, then imagine what it means to a young woman, raising her siblings as she is the only one left of her family after a genocide that ran rampant through her country. 
      Look around your homes, and then look at hers.  If you are so moved, drop Floriane an email and see what you can do for a child.
     Thanks,
     Geo



Hi guys,

See the email I just received below, please.

Whether the remodeling job to Vestine's house was a big factor or just a little thing it's still mind boggling how such a small effort on our part might have played a part in such a big event in this young woman's life.  (My suspicion is that a marriage partner in Rwanda, for a young woman without a family, means a lot more than it might here.)

John Kremer

From: Floriane Robins-Brown [mailto:floriane.rbrown@NIBAKURE.ORG]
Subject: Exciting news about one of our orphan girls in Runda!

Hello and HAPPY HOLIDAYS to you all:

I cannot help it but to pass on some exciting news about one of our orphan girls in Rwanda (Runda).

The 20-year old young woman (orphan head of household) raising her 4 other siblings whose house was renovated in August just got engaged. From her own words, she says that because of the wonderful American donors who have given toward renovating her house in August; people see her differently now; even men have great respect for her. She says the blessings are still coming. She is reaping the harvest from the seeds that were planted by all the generous donors who gave at the Saggau's home in November 2007. Glory be to God! I am thrilled to hear this. And I certainly hope you are too.

On a separate note, last week I collected $200 that will go toward buying a sewing machine for this young woman; which she requested when we went there this past August. The sewing machine is the vehicle she will use for "sustainability". Isn't it exciting to hear testimonies from these orphans and know that you have made a difference in a child's life? Rejoice for you have done well!

May 2009 bring you all the joy you deserve!

Floriane Robins-Brown

Nibakure Children's Village

Phone# +1612-578-6560

www.nibakure.org

It takes Only One: "If you want to change the world, start by changing the life of a child."

     This poem was read by me at my father's memorial service.  Later, it was inked, nay, carved into my body as a homage and reminder to rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on that sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

     I believe it's the starkness of this time of year.  Jane and I agree that when you are actually out in that bone chilling cold, but still moving, still functioning and, most importantly, still appreciating just the simple thought of "cold" in such a primitive way, it makes a lot of other trivial things fall into their proper place and perspective.
     The thought that all is covered by snow and brown, dead and flat, yet, all will arise again, green, verdant and alive is a funny comfort.  As I never want to wish time away, I can hold off yearning and, sometimes lusting after Spring.  So, I go out into our cold, snow and blank canvas that is my backyard and play, or slog along like the fuzzy bear I am with humpback-backpack in tow.
     Sometimes, I lay on the brown, cold and frozen ground to see what the old tin farmhouse looks like to an emerging pika, searching for seeds and other tidbits.  Sometimes, I need to walk as far as I can, then a bit farther just to see if I can.
     I am looking forward to learning (better) to skate-ski.  I can, but my so-called technique is atrocious and I am fried after less than a mile or so.  Being your typical male, I try to overpower the pull of gravity with brute strength, rather than glide along in that slightly syncopated rhythm that I see the accomplished skiers use.
     I like when I stop my hiking and rest a bit, I frost up like the frost on the grass on the first sub-freezing morning.  I like my fuzzy jacket that I pull on, and it pulls all the sweat from my shirt and lets it freeze on the fibers on the outside.
     I like waking up in my funny little pyramid tent remarkably warm with a hot water bottle down by my feet that is still warm and ready to be turned into tea and oatmeal.
     But, my favorite part has to be that I have the backcountry trails, wooded forests, ice covered mountain lakes and tarns all to myself.  And, being with myself, I learn a wee bit as to just who it is that I may be.

      Hmmmmm.... Well, I can share this photo of my favorite fence line up on McClain Flats showing an old split rail fence stacked up against the snow, Aspen Mountain in the background.
     But, I suppose the last thing I shared before this was some time with the whole extended twins family.  I had some time off and stopped by to give them their presents from "Georgie" and watch as they tore into some more.
      Time, interestingly enough, is the one thing we should all share more and more with one another.
      Time in a bottle, as it were, if you are old enough to remember Jim's song.

Fence line throughout the seasons