Fire and Ice

Helen and I seem to gravitate toward sunsets.  OK, so maybe I gravitate toward sunsets all by myself.  Either way, I find myself taking lots of pictures of them lately, an activity which satisfies me on several levels.  I mean, there's my obvious love (ok, let's say obsession) with sunsets; then there's my love of photography (which seems to be growing now that I have a partner in crime); and then there's just something about spending a lot of time watching nature in action -- sunrise, sunset and all that.  Of course I generally miss the sunrise part, but you can't have it all.  It just seems like I can be having the worst day imaginable, and but then I take a minute -- or an hour or two -- to watch the sunset, and my mind clears.  Nature breathes for me.

When we came upon the beach at Oakledge,

we were greeted by these ice formations.  We both took scads of pictures of them -

- they fascinated me to no end, and I tried desperately (as I often do) to capture the real beauty in my photographs, but this is as close as I could come.

One time I took a photography class, and the teacher, who was basically worthless for most other things, gave us one piece of advice that has been 

indispensable in helping me catch some of my most awesome shots.  He said, "Whenever you're in awe over a breathtaking scene, and you're clicking your shutter as fast as your camera will let you, turn around.  Usually the most incredible stuff is behind 

you."  After I'd taken about a hundred shots of ice sculptures and sunsets,

I turned around, and this is what I saw.