The sun was just starting to set as I made my way back up the hill to my in-laws' house. In another hour there'd just be a pink and orange stain on the horizon, but right then the light was still bright, and low enough to cast a long shadow on the far side of the canyon. Just above the trees, atop the ridge, a house perched, and down at the bottom of the canyon was the road as it passed by a horse pasture. But in between the hillside was steep, and I wondered if these trees had ever known a human's touch. It's strange and wonderful to think that there are still bits of wildness left in the world, even so close to the places we called home.

I wonder how many hands have touched that bark. The tree is right beside the trail, so maybe a lot. But then, there are a lot of redwoods in the park, and the trail is wide, so maybe not so many.

Looking up into a tree and taking pictures may be one of the most canonical photographic cliches. It's fun to engage in cliches sometimes, though.

It was cold in the shade of the trees as we walked, even though it was a bright and sunny day. I miss forests sometimes.

We took a walk in the state park on Sunday. Jason asked me to take a picture of him and his uncle standing inside the shell of a burned-out redwood. There was something striking about the contrast of vibrant youth in the foreground and blackened ash in the background. Plus it was very cute. This isn't that picture.

We had a quick weekend away, back home to visit Juliette's family. It sure is pretty up there.

Bright sun on a bright, sunny, Big Sur morning, and me lucky enough to catch it.

The morning before my father-in-law's birthday found a big group of us walking along the beach near his house. I miss being up there sometimes, with so much beauty being so easy to find. Sometimes, though, the obvious stuff--the cliffs, the ocean, the hills, the trees--makes us forget to look for the things that need to be found. Things like the sky and the rocks making stripes on the surface of a rippling lagoon.

It's a little unnerving to be around other artists sometimes. Just after I snapped this, my sister-in-law leaned in and told me that she'd noticed the textures in the rock face, too, as well as the contrast between the orange of the rock and the blue of Jason's shirt, and she'd just been about to ask me to take this picture so she could use it to paint from. I guess the fact that we both saw something means that there was something there.

Over the course of the weekend, the light around the Big Sur River Inn (my in-laws' business) kept catching my eye. The weather was really nice, with hardly a cloud in the sky, and when you combine that with the tall trees throughout the property, what you get are these shifting pools of bright sunlight in between broad patches of shadow. This one was right outside our room.

Jason wasn't actually supposed to be climbing that rail, of course, but trying to keep him off of any climbable surface (or any unclimbable surface, for that matter) sometimes requires more energy than I have. Plus, you know, it is actually kind of cute.

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Nikon D40, Nikkor 35mm f/1.8 DX
f/1.8, 1/2500, ISO 200