Moto Foto

Jen and Paul, rippers
Originally uploaded by Kate Hamilton.

I've begun to upload photos to my brand new Flickr account. Everyone else I know seems to have one, so I thought I'd give it a try. See what the fuss is all about. I can see the draw... comments on individual photos, Tags, the organizational tools, the accessibility...

Visit my photo page to see pics from our recent excellent adventures with Paul and Jen, my rippin' brother- and sister-in-laws.

Campy

Flowering aspen branches dusted with spring snow

Alright, so because winter seems to dredge on for weeks too long here, the tradition is to pack up and go somewhere drier and warmer for a few days during mud season. One such place that beckons us mountain folk is Moab, Utah. Almost everyone we know in this county is taking exodus this weekend with camping gear in tow to the canyons and arches of Moab. It seemed like a good enough idea. Our friends Chad and Kris were very persisitent that we should follow suit and leave the dirt and mud behind for a mini vacation where the days are warm, the nights are cool, and the landscape is unlike any other. "Sounds like a plan!" we agreed, and so we leave tomorrow.

My plan is to take a plethora of photographs in early morning and late day light, to be used later as reference for paintings. I have been accumulating a wealth of images of the Winter Park/Fraser Valley, and of course most of them involve snowy mountains and trees. Moab should provide me with a little diversity in imagery. Not that I don't love my mountains, mind you. A little change in scenery can only be inspiring.

Belated Easter Wishes

From the artist's archives, probably circa 1982 or 1983.

Undoubtedly drawn with pointy Crayola crayons and a razor-sharp pencil on white construction paper. My favorites.

Thanks Mom and Ryan for finding it, scanning it and emailing it to me!

And So, Mud Season Begins

The ski resort closed for the season on Sunday, and won't be open for summer until June 1. What happens in between? Mud season. Though not as muddy as I envisioned it to be, it is certainly not as cozy as a Winter Park winter or as bright green as an East Coast spring. Right now flowers are blooming in PA, but here we're just starting to see blades of grass turn from yellow to green. I saw my first American Robin two weeks ago, and ever since there has been a noticeable influx of neverbeforeseen birds. Birds that visited my home in PA in winter are coming here in spring, like the Dark-Eyed Juncos. And who knew they had such a sprightly spring voice! In winter back east, their most elaborate song was a faint, "peep." I have spotted Magpies and Crows fly by with beaks full of dead grasses and other nesting materials. And Mountain Bluebirds! So completely blue they mock the sky.

All these promises of spring, and then last night a snowstorm blew in. An inch was expected. So far we've received six. And just like that, the landscape sings winter. And I can't ski it! It will most likely melt by the weekend. Exactly when we're planning to ski at Arapahoe Basin, which stays open as late as July. But that's hours away, and my mountain is here--albeit inaccessible. Spring is a difficult time to maintain a love affair with snow.

Spring slush

For the past week we have been entertaining Hamiltons... Andrew's brother Paul and his wife Jen. We've had a great week together and sadly, they are leaving tomorrow. We have enjoyed a ton of spring skiing, good meals and good wine, good times. Photos to come.

So I haven't had much time online since their arrival, but I did start to write a journal entry the week before. Unfortunately, I could not post it because a scheduled Blogger outage prevented me from publishing anything. Fortunately, I copied and pasted what I had written onto a Stickies document for later usage. See that post further below.

So many things to report! The melting of snow coincides with the return of migrating and transient birds; some I have never seen before. The aspens are budding, the crocuses are blooming and it all seems a little late but spring is definitely sprunging. But--it is 11pm and I am super mega tired. After all, I have skied every day for 6 days straight, with a lot of bump runs in the mix. Turns out that skiing bumps gets easier as the temps rise and the sun shines and the snow turns to a slush the consistency of Italian ice.

And yes, me! On bumps! I even have video to prove it.

But I am too tired to report anything more. And I have some sleeping to do.

Tomorrow marks the beginning of the last weekend of the Winter season at Winter Park Resort. Bands will play, people will ski in bikinis, and bratwurst & beer will be served in the parking lots at Mary Jane. Goggle tans will abound. I am looking forward to it.

To tide things over til I post again, here is that earlier post I mentioned, written on a warm spring afternoon 9 days ago.


April 5, 2006
Blue Sky Trail



Today me and Maggie took a long walk. A Very. Long. Walk. It started out as a "hmm, I wonder where this trail goes" kind of curiosity. Which eventually led to a feeling of, "gee, does this trail ever END?" to "oh gosh, why did I do this... I have no water, I have no food, I have no phone, what if I get lost and no one finds me for days?!" But obviously, that did not happen, because here I am. The worst I endured was a few blisters on my feet. The upside was the amount of beauty I encountered on my walk. Maggie's upside was the number of animal trails she was able to sniff out. Oooh, for a mound of moose poo! I was amazed at how much energy she could expend, and yet still pull, pull pull on that leash. And when we finally returned home, 3.5 hours later, she still wanted to romp and play. Sheesh. All I wanted was some food and a nap.

You know what was really cool? Being miles away from any paved roads, I felt so alone. But not the kind of alone I usually despise... this was a good alone. Just me, Maggie and whatever wild creatures shared the same square footage as us. If there were any critters, I did not see them but every once in a while I felt like I was being observed from a distance. My mind played tricks on me in the shadows of the forest. I knew there was life all around me, but it kept to itself as I kept to mine. Respecting boundaries.

At the tail end of our trek, I did see a fuzzy something leap out from the brush--a red fox, the fluffiest I've ever seen. He seemed to be opting for an easy way through the forest as it left the wilderness and trotted down the snowmobile trail. Luckily, his appearance went unnoticed by Maggie, who at the time was surveying a suspicious pile of dung.

It was a good walk.