The caption, however, was extensive:
No photographs today, except this one. It has a small story. I was awakened at 4:30 by my pager (well, actually, by an elbow in my side--at which point I, too, heard the bleating—or would that be bleeping?—pager). It was a callout for a search in a Bay Area county two-plus hours away.
I went back to bed. (I'm a volunteer. I can do that.) Then the phone rang; it was my commander, Steve, who asked if I could go. I figured, okay, if they care enough to get on the phone about this, sure.
Then Grant (a board member) called, to make sure I was on my way—as I was scurrying around trying to gather together my uniform, my radio, my gloves, my helmet (my bill cap has long since disappeared), my water bottles, my granola bars, my card key, my cell phone, my truck keys, my headlamp, and a jacket—all the while thinking, "I need to put my 24-hour pack together, have it ready to go." Grant said I'd be the only volunteer, accompanying four or five sheriff's deputies. Okay, fine, it's good to have the volunteers represented. I'll do it this time.
But in the end, two other volunteers showed up, which was great, and there were six deputies—a solid contingent. And we got to go Code 3 on the shoulder past stuck traffic, which was fun.
When we got there, the man—an 84-year-old with dementia who just happened to be a former sheriff of the county in question (otherwise, I wonder if mutual aid would have been called into play)—was still missing. For about half an hour more. Just long enough for half our team to get an assignment and head out.
Ultimately, he was found safe and sound, if a bit chilly from having spent the night in a construction site.
That "safe and sound" part is what we hope for, of course.
And then we drove back home.
Anyway, the story behind this photo is that I needed to call a fellow I do literacy tutoring with, to tell him I wouldn't be able to meet this morning at 10, so I ripped his numbers out of my journal—since I didn't think he'd appreciate it if I called him at 5 a.m. This is a note to myself on the backside of that page (now rather sloppily taped back into my journal)—about doing a little bit of things I should and would like to do more regular-like, more regular-like; like, every day. Along with it is a list of qualifying activities. Some of which I am going to go do NOW, so I can check them off. And so: no photographs today. Just this one.
Just to be thorough (and because I myself am curious), here's November 6, 2009—ten years ago today—which was titled "Day 309—not":
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| I was driving to Pacific Grove today thinking, it's been a while since I've found the number of the day out there in the world. Today's gonna be the day. And lo and behold! Only... I miscalculated. Today's day 310. Oh well! I like the picture. |
And from 2010, titled simply "Goats":
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| American Alpine nanny goats at Harley Farms Goat Dairy in Pescadero. They are curious and affectionate and calm. Though off in the distance one pair spent the whole time we were there rising up and butting heads. Playing? A turf battle? But they did it off on their own, letting the others enjoy their peace. Goats may be smarter than humans in that way. |
And finally, from 2013, titled "Moloka'i Sunset"—from a photo workshop I attended at Hui Ho'olona, a marvelous artist workshop/retreat center:
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| After a long day of shooting, we were heading back to the Hui—but had to stop for the sunset. Of course. This is straight out of the iPhone [4S]—no processing to speak of. Though what we've been practicing all week is ALL about processing, using one (or a few) of the myriad apps developed for smart phones. So it was actually kind of nice to sit on the calm water's edge, soak up the colors, enjoy the silhouetted features in the scene, and not worry about "making a better picture." This one was plenty good enough, all by itself. [Except for the burnt-out upper middle, but who's counting?] |
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