The original plan was to just stay close to home. I drove over to Magnolia and took a picture of the water tower, and then started looking for all of those little parks I always see but never visit. A happy mix-up got me down to the waterfront near the new biotech center, so I took a few pictures of boats, docks and the Seattle skyline. (Weird view from there. You really see the city in an industrial sense. I’ll have to go back when the mountain is out.)
On the way back towards home I came across a little park, so I decided to investigate. At the bottom of about a million stairs are some extremely expensive houses and an old, blocked off road that is slowly, but surely, falling into Puget Sound. I was trying see if there were any good shots, and then a bald eagle flew overhead, rather low. Wow. Some nearby landscape workers had told me about the road, and I was about to pass them on my way back to the stairs when an SUV pulled up. I decided to ask the woman in the SUV if she knew about the eagles.
Five minutes later, and I’m standing on the private beachfront property that I can only guess is owned by some millionaire, taking pictures of his humble home. The woman had told me that there were several eagles in the area, and then she offered to check with the owner of the house (her friend) to see if it would be OK for me to enter the property. When she found out he wasn’t home, she gave me quick directions to the beach, and,. PRESTO! What can I say? It’s amazing what you can do with a little honesty, a few humble questions, and a camera. (Again, I wish the mountain was out. I didn’t get any eagles, but that view was incredible!)
Now, I’ve got a Thomas Brothers (a map) in my car, and I’d been looking at it for local parks. I kept being drawn back to the landmark icon for Discovery Park’s lighthouse (which you have to hike to). Even though I’ve lived only a few miles away from this lighthouse for about ten years now, I’d still never been to this landmark. I know it’s camp, but I’m having fun shooting these kinds of cliche scenes.
In the end, Willy and I spent about five hours hiking and packing my old tripod around Discovery Park. We took plenty of pictures before getting caught on the leading edge of a rain and thunderstorm, which got us wet, but not soaked. (There’s nothing quite like the smell of seawater and electricity.)
It was a full day and it was a lot of fun. Having my cell phone kept me available to important calls, so I’m not feeling like I was shirking all responsibility. (Yes, there’s another job possibility on the radar, but nothing concrete.) I think both Willy and I are going to sleep well tonight.

I woke up before the sunrise, so I took advantage of my timeliness by grabbing my 35mm and walking over towards the Ballard Bridge. I’ve been to the bridge a few times for photos, and I’ve really wanted to get out on one of the docks at the Marine Academy (a diving college that’s located right near the bridge). The glow of the clear, pre-dawn sky and the placid water helped to create, what I think, is a pretty interesting scene. I guess I spent about an hour on and around the bridge, waiting and watching the sunrise.
Mary headed off to work about an hour after I got back, so Willy and I have just been hanging this morning. I’ve done a little more work to the site, adding a “sideblog” to Blather. It was a good challenge to work on, and I’m glad I got it done today. It’s supposed to get up to 71&degf (21.6&degc), so I’ve got my shorts on, and I’m really wanting to get out of the house for a while before school.
In fact, I wouldn’t be here right now, but I’m waiting for Mark (my stepfather) to arrive. He’s coming over from Puyallup, bringing a collection of trains for Mary and I to sell on eBay. I’m not sure how this fits into the grand scheme of things, but I’m more than happy to help. Getting all of the trains posted on eBay should prove to be an interesting process.
Northwest Trek
Since I’ve got a minute, I guess this would be as good of a time as any to tell you how my little Saturday Safari worked out. Mary and I jumped in a thoughtfully-stocked car early in the morning, planning to spend most of the day out and about, taking pictures. We started by hitting Kerry Park again (yeah, I know, but I need good B&W shots), stopped at Larry’s market, and then hit the Downtown Goodwill.
I think it’s Providence Hospital that overlooks the Goodwill parking lot. It’s set on top of a hill, and it really looks like a throwback to medieval times, so I spent a good twenty minutes standing in the parking lot with the camera, waiting for the passing clouds to shed just the right light. I also amused myself by pestering the local pigeons.
After Goodwill, I headed towards southbound I-5 and made a quick call to my mom on my cell phone, telling her that I was out on safari, and that I could be heading her way. Things shifted easily during the conversation, and Mary and I were soon headed towards the folk’s house, out in Puyallup. And by the time we finally arrived for lunch, the plan had changed dramatically: Mom and Mark thought it would be fun to head out to Northwest Trek, which would give both her and I the opportunity to photograph some of the “wildlife.”
Alright, I’d better explain. Northwest Trek is a zoo. OK, it not really a zoo, it’s a wildlife preserve that’s open to public tours. You can take the tram around the park and look at all of the pretty animals, or you can walk around the trails to look at the animals whose cages are built to be more natural. Or, in other words, it’s a zoo.
I learned a lot from this little adventure. I learned that if you want to get good pictures of the goats, bison, white-tailed deer, or whatever, you’d better be on the left side of the fucking tram,

Taking advantage of a convenient opportunity, Mary and I hit the Seattle Art Museum this morning. My head’s been swimming with unformed ideas, and this little distraction offered due pause.

We caught the bus well after the morning rush. The ride into town was foggy and cool, and we got a good chance to do some half-hearted leaf peeping. (OK, this is a term we’ve been hearing a lot lately, so I thought it about time that I introduced it. Couldn’t resist.)
We checked our coats and then started at the fourth floor and worked our way down. It’s funny, the place I go to when I’m in this environment. Echoes of footfalls on polished hardwood floors compete with the bell of an arriving elevator, or hushed conversations, or the cries of a child restrained in its stroller. The labyrinth seems endless, and timeless. Angled lines, disfigured shapes, crisp colors and dulled tones, I find myself distracted by someone’s abstraction; by a confrontation in the concept that most of what my eyes see appeared to be nothing before the artist started.
Of course, some of it is just a bunch of crap. Sure, it’s hung in a museum, but I can’t take it any more seriously than some of those animal paintings I see when I do the Ballard Artwalk. “I just feel ripped off,” Mary says, so aptly expressing herself. Yeah, I think that’s about right.
On the other hand, I was totally blown away by a piece by Jackson Pollock. I mean, wow, I’ve never seen one of his pieces in person before, but the style was so distinct that there was no mistaking it (not that I could distinguish it from a copy, or anything). The colors were dark and ominous, and the paint was thick. It looked like grit and sand had been added to this amazing texture, which only amplified another dimension. The accompanying plaque said that this painting, “Sea Change,” was painted in 1947, and that it “takes its name from