Once again I need to write a fond remembrance of one of our pets. Nahla the Newfoundland passed last week. She was a truly wonderful dog and worthy companion who accompanied me on my photo trips. For Nahla, I was her person and she was my dog. Of the several Newfounlands that Tanya and I have had (and the Newfoundlands that Tanya had before we were married), Nahla was the first one not to treat Tanya as their number one. If Tanya asked her to do something, she would often look at me to see if it was okay. I don’t know how I became her favorite, but I was honored. That said, she did love Tanya as well. When I’d go upstairs to go to bed first, Nahla would always wait to come up until Tanya did as well, making sure that Tanya was not alone downstairs.
She had the Newfie temperament: laid back, devoted, sweet, patient and stoic to a fault. She spent many a work day laying under desk, quiet as a mouse, until she’d start snoring, occasionally startling any visitors sitting in my office that didn’t realize she was there. But unlike many Newfoundlands, she knew she was big and used it to her advantage. And big she was. She weighed a little over 150 pounds, quite big for a female (the AKC says female Newfies are generally 100 to 120 pounds). Instead of walking around furniture, she would move it out of her way. Which lead us to one of the nicknames we gave her: Brutessa.
We had other nicknames for her as well, such as Panda Butt (after we heard maids at a hotel one time describe Nahla that way) and Turnip Thief (a recent nickname she earned by stealing and eating turnips left on the dining room table while ignoring a parsnip that was on the floor [and if you are asking why a parsnip was on the floor, it was a small one being used by the cats as a toy – they loved flipping it in the air and watching the funny way it rolled).
We got Nahla when she was 4 years old, and she died at 9 1/2. That is way to short a time for 150 pounds of loving. She was a very special dog, and I truly miss her.
Every October, Tacoma artists open their studios to the public in the Tacoma Studio Tour. This free event is held annually as part of #TacomaArtsMonth, where the city celebrates the arts and local artists. This year, the studio tour includes 80 artists at 47 locations. I am one of several photographers participating. I’d like to personally invite any of my blog readers in the local area to come on by, see my studio, meet Tanya and Nahla in person, and talk about the art of photography.
The studio tour this Saturday and Sunday, October 13 and 14, from 11 a.m. to 5 p.m. I am stop number 43 on the tour – but luckily you don’t have to visit in numerical order! You can learn more about the tour using the link above or by going to the Tacoma Arts blog or at the Studio Tour Page of TacomaArtsMonth.com.
As part of the tour, many artists are offering hands-on activities. I am no exception. As I’ve done in the past several years for the studio tour, I will have the scanner set up so my guests can try their own hand at scanography and take home a print of their masterpiece. This is a fun activity, which I previously blogged about. In addition, I”ll have about 40 prints on display, including some new ones from my recent work in the Palouse.
Hope to see you this weekend!
I’m proud to announce my photo guide to the Puget Sound region is now available on SNAPP Guides! The guide covers 58 spots for great photography in the Puget Sound region from Bellingham to Olympia (exclusive of Seattle, which is covered in a separate guide) including 125 sample photographs. For each spot, I give advice on when to go and how to shoot the best images.
The guide is available for both Apple and Android devices. To download the guide, first go the Google Play Store or Apple’s App Store and install the free SNAPP Guide app. Once installed, you can download several free sample guides to see how it works. To download my Puget Sound guide, select Shop from the main SNAPP Guide menu and either scroll down or search for Puget Sound.
SNAPP Guides currently offers guides to 67 places around the world and more are being added (like the Palouse guide I am working on that should be available sometime next year). Each guide provides detailed information on photographic locations including what to shoot, when to go (both season and time of day), directions to get there (including GPS coordinates), a map of the location, a physical rating for the site, and what type of lenses and equipment you might use. The guides also interface directly with The Photographers Ephemeris to quickly give sunrise and sunset times at each location.
My Puget Sound guide costs $7.99. Other guides offered by SNAPP Guides vary from about $4 to $15. Below are several screen shots of the guide.
Nothing is probably more iconic of Puget Sound than a Washington State ferry. And nothing is probably more iconic of Washington State than Mount Rainier. So how would you rate a shot with a ferryboat and Mount Rainier – iconic squared?
There are only a couple of spots not on private property to photograph ferries with Mount Rainier in the background. By far the best spot I’ve found is on NE South Beach Drive on Bainbridge Island, where the Seattle-Bremerton ferry sails in front of the mountain about a 15 times a day (of course, depending on the season, many of those crossings may be in darkness).
The ferries (one sailing each way) will normally pass by this spot at about the same time – roughly a half hour after they leave their respective ports. Check the current ferry schedule for sailing times and be sure to get here a few minutes early. One ferry will be closer to shore, and one further out. A telephoto zoom lens works best here with the setting based on how close the ferry is. For a close ferry, 100 to 200 mm may work well. If it is further off shore, 200 to 300 mm may work better. Ferries move faster than they appear to; be sure to use a shutter speed of at least 1/125th of a second to keep the boat from blurring. If you are shooting near sunrise or sunset, you may need to boost your ISO setting. Consequently, the light will be best in the late afternoon to sunset all year-long or at sunrise to early morning from March through early October.
South Beach Drive is a narrow road with no parking available, at least where it is next to the water. If you come via Toe Jam Hill Road (you have to love that name), there are one or two parking spots on the hill 50 to 100 yards above South Beach Drive (the approach on Toe Jam Hill Road is a steep downhill decline). Alternatively, there are a few parking spots on South Beach Drive west of the viewpoints along the water. Either way, you will need to walk at least a short distance to capture the shot.
I took the above shot a couple weeks ago for inclusion in my latest project – a photography guide to Puget Sound for Snapp Guides. The guide should be ready in a few months, and I’ll post more about it soon.
Today we buried my father. Ernest John Becker was an amazing, yet humble man. He was a leader in the Spokane community, serving on many civic, Gonzaga University, and church boards. He was the managing partner at the biggest accounting firm in the city. Yet, at least with his kids, he didn’t talk about these things. To us kids, he was just Dad.
Dad grew up in Colton, Washington, a small farming community near Pullman. Actually, he grew up on a farm several miles outside Colton. He was one of 14 children. The farm was at the base of Bald Butte, a rounded chunk of bedrock sticking several hundred feet above the rolling hills of the Palouse. Several years ago, I talked with Dad about his life, and he said that Bald Butte was his favorite place. It held great memories for him of growing up on the farm, and he still liked to visit the Palouse and Bald Butte when he got the chance.
He eventually left the farm, joining the Army and serving in the Korean War. He didn’t talk much about those days, at least to me or my siblings. After three years in the Army, he returned to Washington and attended Gonzaga University, earning a degree in accounting. About that time, he married my mother, and together they started their own large family. I am one of seven children; the oldest boy, third oldest overall.
Over the past week, all of us shared photos of Dad. I have all the old slides that Mom and Dad shot from the late 1950s through the 1980s. I went through several hundred, and scanned quite a few to share with my brothers and sisters. One brother made photo collages for the reception after the service; I made a slide show of Dad’s life. There were several shots of Dad proudly holding his first baby son back in 1959 and 60, and I couldn’t help but think today, that now I was carrying him as one of the pall bearers.
I suppose I got my love of photography from him. While growing up, whenever we took a trip, Dad had his camera out, taking photos of the family and the scenery. I don’t know when he got his first camera, I never had the chance to ask, but I did scan one photo of Dad as a young man, perhaps 20 years old, camera in hand. My mother also took a lot of photos, so perhaps I came to photography from both sides.
Dad also bestowed his love of nature on me (and my siblings). Every year he’d load up the station wagon and hitch up the tent trailer, and off the nine of us would go to explore the American west. I remember trips to Glacier National Park, the Oregon coast, Arches National Park, Yellowstone, the west coast of Vancouver Island, and southern California.
He loved to travel. A few years after my mother died, Dad met and fell in love with my stepmom, Anita. There eight years ago, when Dad was 81 years old. Together they discovered the wonders of Europe and Hawaii during multiple trips. In between the trips, they enjoyed life in Spokane. It was wonderful to see him so happy in his later years.
I’m like him in so many ways – the photography, love of nature and travel, quiet by nature – and I must have been told 20 times today at the funeral that I look just like him. Which is good, I guess, since I think he was a handsome man. Perhaps you agree? The photo above is one I took about two years ago, at Bald Butte in fact. It was probably the last time he was there. The one below is his high-school portrait – then the year he left the farm and Bald Butte behind to make his way in the world.
He died about two weeks ago, and I still have a hard time believing he is gone. He was the very definition of a good man – humble, loyal, steadfast, smart, and generous. And while, perhaps, a little bit of him lives on in me, in my memories and my genes; I will miss him. Rest in peace Dad.