Half moon rises over Wasilla; black cat waits in the house; Kalib moves out, part 5: after a bit of exploration, he joins his family in the dining room

The half-moon was out this morning. I made a big mistake, though. I had just taken a picture inside, with the ISO on my pocket camera cranked up a bit and the shutter speed down to 1/40 of a second. When I saw the plane coming, I quickly twisted the ISO down to 80, but forgot to change the shutter speed. The plane was coming fast, so I had to lift the camera fast and shoot.

As a result, I got a bit of camera shake. And probably, I will never see an airplane fly under a half moon in quite this manner ever again.

Oh well. The picture is what it is.

This was the scene that I had photographed at 1/40 of a second, taking my time, trying to hold the camera steady. The other day, as Margie and I went through the drive-through at Metro Cafe to order our hot drinks, Carmen pointed to a sign that told us she was now serving breakfast sandwiches.

I promised her that, sooner or later, I would come in and try one out. So today, Margie had to go to Anchorage to see the dentist and get some teeth drilled and filled. This meant that I would be without a car, so I had her drop me off at Metro Cafe so I could try the sandwich.

She had sausage and eggs and ham and eggs, both with cheese. I ordered the ham. It is not the same as having ham and eggs-over easy, hash browns and mult-grain toast or pancakes at Family Restaurant, but for a coffee shop stop, particularly if you are driving to work, it's pretty good.

And the coffee is delicious - way better than Family Restaurant coffee.

When she found out I was going to walk home, Carmen was worried that I would get cold. She offered to give me a ride. But it is only about two miles, the temperature was a very pleasant two degrees above zero (-17 C), so I set out walking.

Pretty soon, I saw a man and a black dog ahead of me. They were moving slow. I quickly caught them, shot three frames, then walked along with them for about 100 yards, until they turned off on Mulchatna, were they live.

"What's your name and the dog's name?" I asked.

"I'm Brian, he's Bubba," he spoke in an accent that reminded me a bit of the Kennedy's - JFK, Bobby, and Ted.

"Looks like kind of an old dog," I observed.

"Yes," Brian answered, "he's getting old." 

"You sound like you're from the Northeast?"

"Massachusetts. I'm from Massachusetts."

"How long have you been in Wasilla?"

"Eight years," he answered. "I came here eight years ago to visit my daughter for two weeks and I never left."

"You must like it alright, then," I mused.

"I like it allright," he said. "I don't even mind the cold that much. There's nothing I can do about it, so what the f..."

I have spent enough time in the Arctic and the Interior that it always strikes me as a bit odd when people speak of Wasilla as if it were a really cold place - although for sure, from time to time, it can get pretty damn frigid, but today was not such a day.

We exchanged a few more pleasantries, then came to Mulchatna, where he and the dog turned right and walked away.

I continued on. Often, the half-moon was hidden from my view, but sooner or later it always reappeared.

Half moon.

And then, all too quickly, I was walking down my own driveway, toward my own house and there was my own, good, black cat-buddy Jim, looking at me through the window.

Once he realized that I was taking his picture, he tried to act indifferent, but I knew better. He was very pleased.

Now... I hope I am not drawing this out too long, but right now, these pictures are the only contact that I am having with my little grandson. So here I am, back to last Friday evening, continuing the "Kalib Moves Out" series. And here is Kalib, exploring his new house with his mom.

He observes as she hangs the curtains.

As mom cleans the refrigerator - which she plans to replace with a bigger one as soon as she can, Kalib tries to get her attention.

This is the dining room. They plan to replace the carpet, perhaps with the flooring that they all stand on here. They wanted to try it out. They liked it.

I will have two more entries in this series and then it will be done.

Then I must find an excuse to go into town and spend some time with my grandson.

Or he could come out here.

Royce, the elderly orange cat, misses him terribly.

I journey backwards and bump into Joe Lieberman in Boston, I come forward to find a man walking; honest, forthright, horses and Kalib feeding fish

That's Boston down there, over six years ago - May 12, 2003. I had no intention of posting this in today's blog, or any day's blog. In fact, I had forgotten I had ever taken such a picture, until today, when I stumbled across this while looking for something else. 

This is not what I was looking for, but I did at least remember taking this picture, shortly after the above airplane landed in Boston, MA.

I was on my way to Washington, DC, and was slightly surprised to bump into Joe, who was going there, too - Joe Lieberman, who was then the Democratic Senator from Connecticut. He's still the Senator from Connecticut but I am not quite sure what he is.

At that time, he was running for Vice-President with John Kerry and we thought he was a Democrat.

I was independent of all political parties, but knew that I would be voting for Kerry and Lieberman.

Lieberman was friendly and personable and we had a nice little chat.

I wish that I could have another chat with him now, so that I could tell him how how my health insurance company has failed me, how it has proven to be an obstacle to my health care rather than a benefit.

I would ask him why he stands up for them and against me and my health.

After we finished our visit, these two ladies came along. They got pretty excited. "Look!" one of them said to the other. "That's Joe Lieberman! He's going to be President of the United States."

Now, I come back to the present - or at least, to one-half hour ago, when Kalib came into my office to feed my fish.

It's only one picture, but I hope it makes you smile, Mary.

Earlier in the day, a little after noon, as I drove down Seldon with Margie, I saw a man walking.

And later I saw these horses, all of whom were upright and honest individuals of great character, living together in a community of peace, love and harmony, where everyone shares their hay equally. Yet, the picture is exceptionally deceiving, for it was very nearly dark when I took it. The snow was dim to look at and the horses were mere forms against it.

But, to see what would happen, in Lightroom, I hit the auto-adjust. It brightened up, but in a strange metallic, blue, hue. I color-balanced it a bit and this is how it turned out.

It is a lie, honestly told.

This is the original exposure and is pretty close to how the scene actually appeared, except that this might be a little lighter than it looked to the eye. Pretty close, though.

First snow forces me to take a break from the break that I took so that I could do nothing but work

It came very late this fall - which seems to me to have been the warmest fall that I ever remember here - but finally, Sunday night, it snowed. It's true that last Thursday, I put blog entries together all the way through this coming Friday so that until that time, I would not be disturbed by this blog but could just concentrate fully on my work.

But how can I ignore the first snow, especially when it comes so late?

Here is a kid, getting off of a school bus on Ward's. As you can see, somebody did a bit of fish-tailing.

And here is an AWAC, flying through the clear sky the snow left behind.

I hope the driver of this vehicle guided it safely to its destination. 

He biked with a heavy load. This was about noon, when the temperature was 17 degrees. We have yet to experience our first cold snap. Perhaps he is glad that it is late.

More jets in the clear sky.

And here is the decoy frozen into the surface of Little Lake.

Tilted stop sign, with Pioneer Peak in the background.

Crossing the bridge over the Little Su.

Somebody is behind me. I hope it's peaceful person. I don't want any trouble.

I still have my respiratory infection, by the way, but it is not as bad as it was.

I was in the wrong place

...wish that I had been up there, instead of down here...

Russia, as seen from Alaska: Ten views, including one through a living room window and another from a front porch

While roaming my computer, I came upon a shoot that I did in Little Diomede in late March, 2005. As one resident of my hometown managed to turn the very real truth that you can see Russia from Alaska into a national joke, I decided to run this series of photos that I took in Alaska, with Russia in the background.

View #1: Flying into Little Diomede, Alaska, from Nome. The smaller island in front is Little Diomede. The larger island in the back is Big Diomede, Russia.

View #2: Russia through the wind screen. The pilot banks hard to avoid flying into Russian airspace, as that would upset the Russians.

View #3: Russia as seen from the Iñupiat village of Little Diomede, where a polar bear skin hangs to dry.

View #4: Russia, as seen from a front porch in Little Diomede.

View #5: Russia, behind a sled dog tethered to Alaska.

View # 6: Orville Ahkinga Sr. looks out his Little Diomede window toward Russia.

You can't even see Russia in this picture, but where are these kids headed to? Could it be Russia? They would only have to travel about two-and-a-half miles.

View #7: The kids head off to Russia. No! I jokes! The Russians don't allow that. When you are on Little Diomede, you can look at Russia, but not touch Russia. There are military men stationed there to make certain that you don't and they will detain you if you try.

The kids are going to catch a plane that will take them to a basketball tournament down in Gambell on St. Lawrence Island - another Alaskan community from which I have photographed mountains that stand in Russia. In Gambell, the day must be very clear to see those Russian mountains, as they are 40 miles away.

In 1994, I flew to Russia in a North Slope Borough helicopter. Our route was Barrow-Nome-Gambell-Providenyia. After that, although our pilot had cleared us to fly to other places, Russian officials changed their minds and made us leave the helicopter on the ground. So we flew around in a Russian helicopter that was, essentially, a big, flying, bus.

Perhaps, one day, I will recount that trip here. It was amazing and caused me to fall in love with Russia, or at least the far east tip of the country. Everywhere I go, I seem to fall in love with the place, but I always come back to my first love - Alaska.

By the way, there is no permanent airstrip at Little Diomede, which rises sharply from the water. This is the ice of the Bering Strait.

The weather here often gets so bad that planes do not come in for days, even weeks. After the ice starts to seriously melt, the planes will not come at all.

In the summer time, the weather and waters are treacherous, making it very risky to try to come in with a float plane. There is sporadic helicopter service, weather permitting.

View #8: Returning home from the maternity ward of the Alaska Native Medical Center in Anchorage, Jamie Ahkinga places a hand over little Marcus Kobe Okpealuk, the baby that she now keeps sheltered under her Parka. While in Anchorage she also went shopping at Wal-Mart with the man who holds her hand, Lane Okpealuk, father of Marcus.

View #9: Standing on the Bering Strait, waiting to fly to Nome.

View #10: Freight is taken off the plane and luggage loaded on, with Russia looming in the background.

Just minutes ago, she stood on the Bering Strait with Russia standing behind her. My time at Little Diomede was much too short and I wanted to go back. I imagined that the next winter or spring I might come and hang out for awhile, but it didn't work out that way. Now, where is that wealthy philanthropist that is going to drop half-a-mil or so on me so that I can do this blog right? So that I can hop off to places like Little Diomede at will? In my own airplane?

FOR HELL'S SAKE! PHILANTHROPIST! Patron! WHERE ARE YOU??????