Category: photography

Defies words

I had a day today that defies all possible words.

Started out with a road trip down south of Kona to the very end southernmost of the Big Island of Hawaii.

My destination was Punalu’u Black Sand Beach.

I had stumbled across this gem online while looking for actual beaches. Kona is the newest of the islands and as such, doesn’t have fabulous sand beaches. It has stunning lava coastline, but no happy sandy beach to lay about and catch some sun…or even walk on and put your toes in the water.

So not only is Punalu’u an actual sandy beach complete with watery toes….it comes with sea turtles!

Yes, actual sea turtles!

I was lucky enough to see five today on the small stretch of sand that comprises this amazing, glorious, gorgeous beach.

Then, after I’d spent several hours with the turtles, full of a turtle induced I, I decided to move on to the Volcanos National Park.

Both Kilauea and Mauna Loa were visible and AMAZING.

I took about three hundred photos today, and I’m sorting them out. The volcanos put a muted light haze on the day which my photographer friends will know is KILLER light for taking photos.

So here’s a few to start, more to come:

All photos by Karen Fayeth

This one’s for the pet owners

Due to having a rather austere father, I am not one of those folks with deep, fond memories of the parade of pets I owned and raised as I grew up.

The Good Man is this way. Both of his parents are avid animal people and so he has a whole lifetime of pets he can speak about in loving tones. It makes me sort of jealous.

I have one childhood pet. A white cat obtained when I was about twelve.

She was a good pet, truly. Her name was Yoda and she was very tolerant of me (and that’s saying a lot for a cat). She had a fantastic personality, full of charm and easy to love. She would come when you called her name and was nutso over turkey meat.

Poor little feline breathed her last while I was away studying at NMSU.

In the span of my adult life, post-Yoda, I’d never owned another pet. Which is weird, because I’m a lover of fuzzies and usually form close bonds with the pets belonging to my friends.

My best friend is owner to my goddog and a finicky godcat and I love ’em like they are my own. But they aren’t my own. And they live in Las Cruces, so that doesn’t help!

So imagine my delight when I began dating The Good Man almost three years ago and he had not one but TWO felines to keep his life interesting.

One charming old man marmalade and one batty, toddler-esque black and white.

Sadly, the marmie gave over to kidney issues soon after TGM and I started seeing each other, but I at least had the chance to love that orange kitty. He was a good man.

Which leaves us now with the batty cat. She’s the one who charms our lives these days.

This is only the second pet I’ve ever personally owned. And I am here to confess:

I love that cat.

In fact, that’s the genesis of this post. I have one of those screensavers that plucks images from my photo library and displays them onscreen. As I was on the phone earlier today dealing with another cranky business client, this photo flashed on my screen and held there for a bit too long.

And I stared at that g’damn cat and felt so much love in my heart. Like…over love. Too much love. WAY too much love for such a cute furry obnoxious, middle of the night meowing cuz she’s hungry kind of animal.

Am I the only pet owner who has ever wondered…am I a little *too* attached to my pet?

A quiet place to rest

Yesterday at work I had a meeting in a nearby building. I decided to be all eco-friendly and stuff and walk over.

As I toodled along, I was surprised to come across this:

I found it…peculiar.

It’s a nice cement bench with detailed Fish and Wildlife stuff about the “creek” that lay there in view of the bench (behind the, uh, chain link fence).

Here’s an unobstructed view of the “creek” from a small bridge.

(yes, the quotes around “creek” are on purpose)

Folks, where I come from, we call that an arroyo.

And we don’t sit by it and watch the weeds grow. We just don’t.

Is this like the LA river, where, to quote Wikipedia: “For most of its length, it flows through a narrow concrete channel?”

Does something that flows through a concrete channel really qualify as a river (or creek)?

I found it strange, on this walk, to find one random bench with a view of…a weed filled arroyo.

Truth really is stranger than fiction.

Photos by Karen Fayeth and her trusty iPhone

So…what did YOU do for the Fourth?

How was your holiday? Didja do something nice? Fun? Cool as heck?

Yeah, how did that bbqpoolkidsfamilymomanddadhotdogsfireworksinthebackyard turn out?

Good? Great, happy to hear it!

My Fourth? Well.

The day was mostly quiet. As the sun was setting, that’s when it got interesting.

The evening kicked off, well, here:

That’s the, uh, San Carlos Airport.

And those there are, uh, you know, your standard issue Cessna type aeroplanes.

See…our next-door neighbor is a pilot. He started in the military then had a career piloting the “vomit comet” for NASA.

These days he’s semi-retired, making money by piloting incredibly expensive Gulf Stream and Eclipse jets for the Bay Area wealthy.

So an offer was made to The Good Man and me…see, he’d rented a plane for the evening…wanna go see fireworks from up there?

Yes! YES WE DO!

And we did!

Our original course was the big show in San Francisco.

However, San Francisco being what it is…this is what it looked like up there.

Gorgeous sunset. But miles and miles of fog. Not so swell for watching fireworks.

We headed down the peninsula, intent on taking in the fireworks near the much clearer San Jose, at the Great America amusement park.

Problem is, Great America is in the San Jose Airport airspace, and they don’t think weekend fireworks cruisers are all that interesting. Humorless, they are, as they keep busy landing and taking off a near steady stream of commercial airliners.

So we headed back up to mid-peninsula in took in the smaller shows in Redwood City and Foster City.

You ain’t never seen fireworks until you’ve seen them from up there.

Wow.

Can’t offer much in the way of fireworks photos. Between it being dark and the motion of the plane, none turned out. But damn…it’s amazing to see!

Oh, and the ol’ “vomit comet” pilot showed us what just two G’s feels like (fighter pilots get up to 9).

Feels like getting out of the damn plane and walking around on the ground again, please!

Yeah, I’m pretty sure I had a cooler Fourth of July than you did….:)