Saturday, September 27, 2014

24 Hours of Gold

Photo #1: Sitting in Sedalia for 20 minutes to wait on the coal train to finally get through the intersection. We have definitely left the Interstate.















And we finally had the winds work with us so that we could safely have a campfire!

the stars were incredible -- just so many more millions that you can ever see in the city. But my camera is not that incredible, so all I could manage was the nearly new moon.

that ghostly light in the background is Dad walking around with a lantern


firelight is hard to shoot by...

glowing embers: better than t.v.

after the fire, reading by lamplight

I reread Book 1 of A Tree Grows in Brooklyn snuggled under my sleeping bag. It was perfect.
Unfortunately, my hip really didn't appreciate the cot and my feet that never have good circulation anyway decided to go painfully numb. I had tucked all my next day clothes into the bag with me to keep warm for the early morning chill and worked out a contortionist act finding and then putting on the second pair of socks over the ones I'd worn to bed. Didn't work. Guess whose buying a hot water bottle before camping next weekend?

Pre-dawn morning glow


The early sun made some interesting challenges around the bends and valleys. (And I need to figure out what that large body of water is at the top of this frame.)



She wandered into the road and walked along ahead of us for her close-up









Mom and Dad making breakfast after Dad and I finished the early morning round of tree hunting.

our breakfast companion



light poles are great when you want electricity. Not so much when you want a vista shot.
When I have the energy, I may photoshop this one out. That night is not tonight.































With Sam driving home, she got the lovely job of putting up with the other ten million aspen lookie-loos both beside the road and driving half the speed limit on it. This woman with her I-phone kept pointing it at whatever side of the road had the least photogenic view. Sam says I'm a snob. Maybe she's right.