What happens when the door that’s been locking you from the world for years all of sudden opens? I don’t know about you. In my case, I ran out, clumsily got myself together and started exploring. The wheels that’s supposed to churn the world are ready to start swirling again. And yet, the new norm is not the same as the old. For someone that’s pretty communicative (ehem, talkative), I found myself at loss for words on more occasions than I would like to admit.
Nonetheless, in 2023, my partner-in-crime and I started traveling the world again. The plethora of emotions that we experienced in lock-downs and social spacing must have gotten us deep. We went even more further away from the “roads well-trekked”. As if we were trying to make up for the 3 years that were lost, we are making friends in more incredible ways.
On the west coast of Sicily, we crashed the party celebrating twin sisters Adele and Giovanna’s 75th birthday. The cake and champagne that were brought over from their table completed our lunch perfectly.
God sent Tamara over to help us (she was dining at the table next to ours) when we struggled with our choices in another local restaurant. Sicilian hospitality saw us being taken on a tour of amazing dessert shops (Sicilians have sweet teeth) after dinner, followed by caffè at her home.
On a road-side in Tamba, Japan, I had a “deep” discussion about some farming practices and the kind of crops grown with a lady that was working in her field. Had I not have two more temples to visit for the day and the heat I was sensing from my Assistante’s stare piercing through the car wind-shield, I would have ended up in her house, sampling the prestigious Tamba kuromame (black bean) that she had just harvested. Before parting our ways, I didn’t forget to have her smile forever saved on my phone, despite her weak protest of being an obasan and hence not appropriate for camera. I should have reminded her of what I do professionally with camera, and women. ;-)
The list goes on and on. I wish I have more space and time to share. But the post has already gotten long and it’s already 2024. :P
No worries, put in a request/reminder, and I shall write more about the disbelief on people’s faces when they realize where we are from, or the lady with a dream to open a B&B, or another lady that’s working to preserve a historical house.
As I’ve added three more rings (as in tree rings) to my life, I found myself being more unapologetically myself (weird at times) and true to my values. It’s long been my goal to have a business with a soul and to instill humanity in what I do. In 2023, I started gifting people photographs of themselves on our travels, be it a group of friends on top of a hill being surrounded by clouds, or a lady in the setting sun next to a medieval town, or a young Japanese couple that just wanted some photographs of themselves with the momiji (maple leaves in fall colors) and was totally not ready for a mini portrait session. :D Oh, I still owe a mature Japanese couple photographs of them in the beautiful fall colors, hand-in-hand.
All these photographs commemorated unique, beautiful and/or fun moments and I think it’s important that they have those memories.
Speaking of memories, many of you know that I started a journey of “transforming” more mature and wise women in 2022 (see also here). Inevitably, I was again reminded brutally how fragile life is and sometimes we don’t have the time or chance to say good-bye (I also shared about losses here and here). Even the most beautiful palm tree in the whole Southern California is not there to grace the mountains in the background anymore. I’m grateful that they now have left traces of their beauty in photographs.
As the first light of 2024 is looming near, I wanted to present this image made on a frigid morning of Faithful Geyser in Yellowstone National Park. The early light in crispy air gives off an aura of hope. And I’d like to take this opportunity to wish you lots of joy and (or of) wonder in 2024. I hope our paths will cross in our wanders. :D
Ciao!
Sunrise
My Encounter with a Troll in Iceland (Part 2) - Los Angeles Travel Photographer
I stood in the shower, befuddled.
I had turned the knob to hot water. Nothing happened.
It may have been me. We just came back from an early morning trip (before sunrise) to Hverir, the geothermal location. And for the ones that know me, I don’t function well early morning.
I switched off the hot water and turned it on again. Still nothing.
Double checked the hardware. Yes, it is a knob for the shower that I turned.
It was mid-September. In Iceland terms, it was getting cold. Some areas were going to be covered with snow/ice and roads be closed in a few weeks. So, in Southern California terms, it’s putting-on-all-our-winter-gears kind of cold.
The water line’s clogged up?
I turned on the cold water. Cool liquid came flowing out as expected.
Even more confused, I went back and forth between hot and cold for what felt like a long time. The last thing I wanted to do was to wake up my dedicated driver who was trying to catch up on some sleep.
Being a self-proclaimed problem solver, I then tried to decide if I could tell any difference between the actions for either in the sound or smell or anything else that I couldn’t think of.
When every possible stone has been turned, I had to give up on solving this problem by myself.
I couldn’t believe my eyes, or ears, when hot water came right out with an easy twist on the knob from my Assistante, eyes half shut.
Feeling awkward, I was searching for a logical explanation in my head …
I remembered the mountain at Hverir.
It had rained the evening before. The accumulated water at the foot of the mountain gave me a new way to create. I decided to get down from the ledge of the road before heading back to the hotel. I approached the edge of the water ever-so-gingerly. You never know what could be hurt or waken up at each step, especially at such an un-adulterated location.
The lower elevation gives me a better angle for reflections. I started moving side ways to compose creatively.
Suddenly, I felt a strong presence around. I knew I was the only one down there. My Assistante was high up on the other side of the road. I turned around. I couldn’t see them.
Feeling uncomfortable, I quickly retreated my foot steps and ascended to the surface of the road. Soon, we were back at the hotel and I completely forgot about this incident, until I was in the shower.
Do you have any encounters like this?
When Bison Spoke, We Listened - Los Angeles Travel Photographer
We woke up at the sound of the alarm and sprang to action.
There was no one around. The only sound was from our struggle with the thick snow underneath. Our plan was to explore the other “geysers” close to the Old Faithful Geyser. We wanted to get there before the sun made it above the horizon and we had already scouted the (only) way the afternoon before.
The air was cold and crisp, but I felt my perspiration as we turned around the corner of the Old Faithful Visitor Center. I paused and looked out to the trail that stretches from our feet.
Boy, was I happy I did. Through the vague dawn air, I saw something on the only piece of ground that’s not frozen or covered in snow. Within a stone’s throw, there were bison sleeping. Although mild-looking, an animal that weighs up to one ton can move at a fast speed, too fast for us to escape the impact. Let alone there’s multiples of such odds of impact. Our internal debate ended quickly.
Thanks to these bison, we stuck around the area and got to experience a different Old Faithful Geyser than anticipated.
As the world is fighting COVID-19, I can’t help but wonder how long nature has being crying/yelling at us before it gave us such a blow that finally got our attention.