Surviving a fabulous meal last night of Kim’s eggplant parmigiana and Ivi’s cheesecake, I arise for an early morning visit to Doctor John, where there is little to do but watch the sky from the windows while waiting. But we were able to spot a rare SVX in the return traffic.
Oh, oh. I had promised never to display one of those exceedingly boring pictures of meals that people tend to publish. And Kim has announced that she doesn’t know if she can ever take another one of my photos of clouds and power lines. Guess I’m running out of acceptable subject matter …
We just learned that Oliver Sacks, neurologist and writer, has died today.
Early this summer, I read his wonderful autobiography, “On The Move: A Life”. First introduced to Sacks’ unusual and absorbing work quite a few years ago by Ann Nietzke, my Los Angeles writer friend (worth reading in her own right), I went on to read a few more of his books (thanks also to Gabrielle!), among them titles like “The Man Who Mistook His Wife For A Hat” and “Musicophilia: Tales of Music and the Brain”. Highly recommended, all.
Arose early as I could, washed the Pathfinder and the Caravan, then went for a Foothill Road drive, intercepting at one point Charlie and Kim at Lower Hillcrest. Watched the light change radically over 2 1/2 or so hours, and even rounded a curve to find about twenty turkeys in the road, most of which dispersed before getting a portrait. But first, this overview (5120 x 900 pixel panorama):
Scanned another roll’s worth of previously-unseen negatives today, still at January 1974. Here are some more from eastern Iowa. Bleak City. (Btw, I couldn’t figure out why repeated cleanings of the negatives didn’t clear up the apparent dust spots. Then I realized that light snow was falling in some images.)
Yesterday, I saw Gary and he showed me a Facebook picture of his Honda Civic that his wife/girlfriend crashed in Vancouver the other day:
Before we go any further, you should know that Gary’s girlfriend and his 3-year-old son are bumped & shaken up a bit, but reportedly basically okay.
Today, Tim — father of Gary and original owner of the Honda — sends me this further detail.
And on a totally unrelated note, during a shopping sprint this morning, as Kim drove down the street, I saw something that I knew my VW-enthusiast-friends (especially Jim) would find interesting, and quickly pointed a camera in the general direction, without viewing or focusing while on the fly. In a stroke of luck, it turned out to be a one-shot usable image.
Up early this morning in an attempt to catch the Union sunflower fields, after last night’s failure. Crossing back over Catherine Creek, then back to town to see if I can catch Kim and the Mendacious Mutt. Meeting up with them as they are descending from the ridge above Grandview, we stroll through the cemetery, then it’s back home in time for the day’s business. The air is improving; we can see Mt. Emily today. Radio sez John Day fire is 40% contained and one of the big ones is 10% under control, so there is still a ways to go.
Following a tip received earlier in the day, Ivi drives us out to find a sunflower field on the road to Union. Finding that another photographer is shooting a model there, plus not having driven an appropriate off-road vehicle, we content ourselves with some sunset views using the time-honored tradition of Windshield Photography.
After two hours of walking about downtown this morning, I returned convinced that the outdoors is no place to be until the wildfire smoke has abated. So, continuing my exploration of old negatives that have never previously seen the light of day, I found this January 1974 view of Malibu after fire and rains.
Then, a few days after that shot was made, I made a business trip to Washington, DC, but first stopped off in Davenport, Iowa where my brother was working as a newspaper reporter and living with his wife and young daughter, Gabrielle. Here, I photograph him during that visit as we encounter the bleak Iowa landscape.
We just learned that Oliver Sacks, neurologist and writer, has died today.
