To find, to lose, to find and lose again - my India take vanishes into digital ether; I search, I plead

I shot only one frame all day yesterday and this is it - two ravens through my car window as seen through the drive-through line at Taco Bell and this is how I wound up there:

I had it my mind that when I could, I would sort through my India pictures and put together some sort of package on Soundarya to share with the family. I did not know where those pictures were and I dreaded the search to try to find them.

Behind and to the sides of my computer monitor, my desk was a clutter of hard drives, cables and wires - a couple of dozen hard drives, in fact - some of them plugged in, some of them not. I had once known where everything was on those hard drives, but over time, in the constant juggle and shuffle of digital information - moving images from this drive to that, then erasing from here, etc. etc. etc., it had become a tangle of confusion.

I came up with a system in my head to finally get on top of it, but to do so would require that I remove the harddrives from the enclosures they came in so that instead I could just insert and take them out of hard drive docks at will.

I checked with an expert and he said, yes, this would work - I could just remove all those drives from their enclosures and this would free them up for use in the docks.

So I did, and it took me a long time, because once I would figure out how to take one sort of enclosure apart, the next would be completely different and I did not have the right tools.

To simplify a complicated story, by the time I finished, I discovered that six of my harddrives were of an earlier design and would not seat into the docks, so I could no longer read them. Plus, two harddrives would seat and spin, but would not sign on to the computer. So I made four trips back and fourth to Machous were Bruce helped me reconstruct those that needed reconstructing and tried to help me bring the two that would not read back, but they had gone bad and could not be brought back.

During one of those trips back and forth to Machaus, I stopped at Taco Bell and picked up an order for myself and another for Margie, who was not feeling good.

In my office, I carefully searched every drive that could be read - and was horrified to discover that my India take, #2, when Melanie and I went to the wedding of Soundarya and Anil, could not be found.

Although I blogged the wedding, to this date I had not found the time to go through the big majority of the thousands of photos that I took afterward. I know there are some good pictures of Sandy in there, along with many other things from those times that Sandy and Anil were off by themselves and Melanie and I were traveling elsewhere with Vasanthi, Murthy, Buddy and Vijay.

All this now appeared to be lost, vanished into digital ether. If I could not somehow find them, then all I woud have from that trip would be the few low-res images, mostly from the wedding, that actually appeared on this blog.

I searched and searched and searched, venturing into the shadow areas. At one point, I thought that I had found a set, for I did find folders for those dates - but the folders were empty.

They are only photographs and their loss is a tiny and insignificant thing in comparison to her loss - but still, photographs are all that is left. I sank into despair. My body shook and my hands trembled.

I realize that what I am about to state is going to sound really corny to some, but it is how it happened, so I am going to state it. Not knowing what else to do, after a day-and-a-half of searching but not finding, I said aloud, "Sandy! I need your help! You've got to help me."

After I spoke the words, I suddenly noticed one of those tiny, portable, black plastic hard drives that you can buy at Wal-Mart, sitting beneath the computer tower on my desk. I always take two or three of these into the field with me, so that I can make duplicate copies of everything that I shoot as I move along. After I get home, I dump the images into my big harddrives and then erase these little ones, so that I can take them back out into the field the next time I go.

I picked up the little drive and plugged it into the computer.

The India take was all there.

Coincidence, my brain tells me. My heart wants to believe otherwise.

The truth is, I do not know. 

I now have the pictures, but Sandy is still gone.

Even as I type this, I am loading those pictures into my Lightroom editor. This is the very first image from that take - it is Melanie as we wait at Ted Stevens International Airport to board the first of the four planes that will fly us to Bangalore.

And here we are, Melanie and I together, reflected in the window of the underground train that shuttles passengers between various terminals at the Seattle-Tacoma International Airport.

Now we have left Chicago, enroute to Mumbai.

And here we are, in Mumbai.

In Mumbai, we saw a sleepy little girl.

Now we ride the shuttle that will take us from one Mumbai terminal to another.

Through the shuttle window. What you don't see is the heat. Despite the late hour, it was stifling hot. We are about to board the flight to Bangalore.

Now we are at Murthy and Vasanthi's in Bangalore, where I fell asleep. It was Sandy who woke me up - Soundarya Ravichandran. After I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, I took a picture of her and this is it. The next day, she would wed and would become Soundarya Anil Kumar.

I now have many pictures to sort through and edit. This barely begins it. It is going to take some time and I do not know where I am going to find that time.

I know that I promised that I would not let this blog dwell where it seems to be dwelling, but one does not just turn away from an experience such as this and suddenly find that it is over.

Still, it is my commitment to now get back on track and to blog about other things. After I have a picture package ready to share with the family, perhaps I will put up a few more up here.

I suspect that this will take me about one year.

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To get out and take a walk

Regular readers know that I am a person who likes to get out and do something outside every day, whether it is to ride my bike, walk, cross-country ski, canoe, or whatever. I have not canoed or cross-country skied since I shattered my shoulder and got an artificial one in June of 2008 and I have only ridden my bike twice since the snow settled in.

With a shoulder like this, I am just afraid to fall. Even so I had thought that this would be a good week to finally dig my skis back out and see what I could do with them.

But so far I haven't done it and right now I don't feel like I am going to.

I have not even been able to make myself take my usual walks. Up until yesterday, I had not taken a single walk since the one that I took in Barrow immediately after I learned of the death of Soundarya.

We have so few hours of daylight this time of year and the sun never does rise very high over the mountains, so after I returned from Barrow I thought that I would walk, bike ride or ski every day right at high noon, when the low sun is at its highest, to get the most out of it that I can.

But everyday, high noon has come and gone and I have been lethargic and have stayed inside.

Yesterday, I decided, I would finally go. It was time to pull myself out into the cold and go.

But high noon came, and high noon went and I did not leave this house.

Then, a little after 3:00 PM, I decided I had to break out and go.

Without even thinking about it, I put on a light jacket and stepped outside.

The sun had already set, but still, I was outside and the alpenglow was beautiful upon the Talkeetnas. It was time to walk.

One thing about Alaska that is different than in the mid and low latitudes is that even after the sun sets, twilight lingers for a long time. In India, when the sun goes down, it gets dark, just like that.

Here, the light lingers long past sunset.

Of course, compared to Barrow, our days right now in Wasilla are long and sunny, and a thought struck me about that.

As you know, I was in Barrow on November 18 when the sun rose and set at practically the same moment and then disappeared until late January. It was just a couple of days after that Anil died in the car crash that also took Nick Hill and then one more day before Sandy followed.

I think that perhaps for this season, I have no choice but to live anywhere but in the dim light of winter's dark day until the sun returns in late January.

It is after the sun rises again that the most bitterly cold weather sets in - but the spring always follows. The ice breaks open, the whales return and then soon it is summer.

This is what I have been telling myself.

I can't remember precisely when - more than a year ago, I am certain - but I came upon this dog at this same corner, Seldon and Tamar. The dog was right in the middle of traffic on very busy Seldon, not understanding, and drivers had to both dodge and hit their brakes to avoid striking it.

I did not think this dog's prospects to be very good - but here it is, still living in unleashed terror on the corner of Seldon and Tamar.

By the time I reached home, I was damn near frozen. I wondered what had gotten into me to take off with only a light jacket, no hat, no gloves. So I warmed the car up, climbed in and headed to Metro Cafe to get a hot cup.

I found Carmen, talking on the phone to Scot, who is going through the final stages of his radiation and chemo therapy and then it will just be a matter of waiting for a couple of months to learn if the treatment did the job it is supposed to do.

Scot was in his shop, where I had never been. Carmen handed me the phone, he told me how to get to the shop and so, after I had driven around long enough to finish my coffee and cinnamon roll and to hear some news, I stopped by.

Oh, my! I found Scot working on a once-scorched 1959 Corvette that he has been restoring for seven years... or was it nine...? I didn't take notes.

It is red and white and beautiful beyond belief. It filled me with love and longing just to look at it. I had left my camera in the car, but Scot said that was okay - he wants me to wait until he gets it done, until Carmen and Branson can ride in it, to photograph it.

So I will wait - but I will tell you right now, it is a thing of beauty.

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A cold wind blows and life just rolls along

As they say, no matter what happens, life just keeps rolling along. It's true. If you don't believe it, all you need to do is to glance into your rearview mirror. There you will see that people continue to smile, to laugh, and to drive big pickup trucks under the low high-noon sun of a chill, windy, day.

As for Margie and me, we need to eat and there was not much food in the refrigerator, or the cupboards, either. So we set out for the store, to do some grocery shopping. Yet, we were hungry right now, so we by-passed the grocery store and continued on toward Taco Bell, where we ate lightly - a bean burrito for Margie, an original crunchy taco for me, plus a small Pepsi and a Diet Pepsi for her.

Of all the fast food joints, Taco Bell is the best for eating lightly. Several years ago, I decided that I needed to lose 15 or 20 pounds and so I went on a diet that included lunch at Taco Bell, just about every day. Even when one loses weight, one must enjoy life.

It worked, too. In about three months, I met my goal.

Some of that weight has come back, but not all of it.

Once we had eaten, it was time to go to the grocery store. Along the way, while stopped for a red light, we saw some kids rolling along in a school bus. They looked trapped to me, prisoners of a system that they did not create but that seems to get us all. They did not look very happy - yet I see that one seems to be smiling a bit.

The driver doesn't look very happy, either.

I really don't like to shop at all - unless its for cameras, computers, airplanes, canoes, guns and things like that, that I can never afford to buy anyway. So I dropped Margie off at Carr's and then headed over to the Post Office to check the mail.

I parked by this car and went inside.

We got a credit card bill and an Aperture magazine. A day has now passed and I have yet to remove Aperture from its protective cover and even to glance at the cover.

In the past, I would tear these magazines open right away and, at first opportunity, spend an hour or two - sometimes more - just devouring the contents.

Not necessarily devouring the words - because they always manage to write a lot of nonsensical hyperbole in these photographic magazines as they try to explain just what it is or was that put the photographers featured on a different plane, but the photos.

Just the photos - some more than others.

Aperture has never featured any of my photos. That's mighty foolish of them, if you ask me.

Then I went back to Carr's to help Margie finish the shopping. Even so, we forgot to buy frozen raspberries.

I wanted some frozen raspberries.

After we bought the groceries, we returned home. I sat down to my computer to work and accomplished nothing - nothing at all. At the usual time, I headed off to Metro Cafe, to get my 4:00 o'clock cup and listen to NPR.

I pulled up to the window and did not even have to order because Carmen knew. I started to pull out my wallet, but she would not let me. Then she showed me this $5.00 bill and note from Shoshauna. Due to her changed schedule, I now only see Shoshauna on Saturday's, assuming that I can get to Metro before she leaves at 2:45.

Shoshauna was buying my coffee this day - and the next. too.

She reads this blog, too, you know. It was an act of kindness and care on her part.

Thank you, Shauna.

And keep writing.

Just keep writing.

One day, I will buy you a coffee - from one Wasilla writer to another.

I did give Carmen a pumpkin cookie after Thanksgiving.

On the way home, this young bull moose ran into the road in front of me. I saw it well ahead and so it was not a close call. Just another, typical, everyday moment, right here, in Wasilla, Alaska - where I find moments to thrill to the sight of what surrounds me, to smile and to laugh, despite the great sadness that blankets the land and all that it holds.

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This blog's most visited posts: Wasilla's Lisa K beats Wasilla's Sarah P; the wedding of Soundarya and Anil leads the long haul

These past couple of weeks have been intense ones for this blog - starting at least from my post on Lisa Kelly, the Ice Road Trucker, pulling into Metro Cafe on horseback with some of her friends. Perhaps not coincidently my average number of daily visits have come pretty close to doubling in that time.

As I have stated before, I figured out a long time ago that if I were to do regular segments featuring or blasting my hometown's most famous resident, Sarah Palin, my readership would soar. I conducted a few experiments to test this theory, like dropping Palin's name into the headline when the post actually said nothing about her, or by dropping words like "pit bull" into the title of a post with such a dog in it. 

And always, those few words drove my numbers way up for those posts. Then, of course, just because I live in Wasilla and this blog is in part themed on Wasilla, I figured that I had to have at least one post that was not a trick but actually covered her and so last December, I attended Palin's Wasilla book signing and blogged it.

Boy! Did that post bring in the numbers! Like I had never seen before! No other post had drawn numbers even close. And people still drop by to visit it regularly. 

But guess what?

My post on Wasilla's other famous lady, Lisa Kelly, the Ice Road Trucker, has smoked Sarah Palin for drawing in the most readers to a single post. Not merely beaten her, but smoked her. It happened fast. It took just days against a post that has been up for nearly a year.

This is a small blog with a very modest number of readers and no real influence, but still, I thought you might want to know that.

Yet, there is another post that consistently brings in readers every day and has for a year-and-half now. Every day.

And that is the post of the wedding of my own beloved Soundarya and Anil. Every day, every single day, visitors come by to view their wedding. Usually, the daily numbers to the wedding post are modest. Ten, 15, 20 - but occassionally and inexplicably they will sometimes surge into the hundreds of visits on a single day.

Most of these visits come from India.

When all these daily visits are put together, then this post, the wedding of Soundarya and Anil, has drawn in more visitors than any other.

Very recently, shortly before I went to Barrow, I let Sandy know this and she was pleased.

Now I will tell you why I am here in Family Restaurant, having breakfast by myself.

I can't sleep in the mornings. I go to sleep very late when I am so tired that I can no longer stay away and then I wake up just hours later. I try to go back to sleep but I can't. So I get up and go to Family Restaurant, by myself, because Margie is asleep.

At least, this is what I have done for the past two days.

All these Family Restaurant pictures, by the way, are of reflections in the window. If it was light outside this wouldn't work, but since its dark, the window becomes a mirror of sorts.

Yesterday, I stated that I would write no more about Soundarya in this blog for awhile, but I have made an oversight. Another person died in the accident with Anil and he must also be acknowledged - Sandy's longtime best friend, Nick Hill.

At first, I did not realize that Nick had died, too, but I  had met him at the wedding and he became a Facebook friend, so after the accident I dropped into his Facebook page to say "hi" and to see if I could learn more but instead found that his friends were leaving RIP messages on his page.

Then Sandy died and everything else disappeared in front of me. I could see nothing but Sandy, and her immediate family and my family. Everything and everyone else just disappeared. I could no longer even see those loved ones who died just ahead of her.

Sandy was all I could see.

So I also want to say something about her devotion to Anil, as she most recently expressed it to me. She told me that Anil had recently found his passion - photography - and that however hard she had to work to do it, she was going to be the breadwinner for the house so that Anil could pursue this new passion.

Not everyone agreed with this decision, she told me, but that's how she felt about it and that's what she was going to do.

She was going to send some of Anil's pictures to me, but she never got the chance.

Now I'm done blogging about this.

This morning's breakfast at Family - a Jeep outside the window.

A customer pays his bill with a smile.

Shrock Road.

Whatever. I don't know. Just people at Family.

The Jeep is still there.

This is a place where a driver could take his Jeep to get it gassed up.

He could get himself tanked up, too, but it wouldn't be a good idea.

Family Restaurant.

Now I'm on the other side of the window, headed to my car, looking back in. I see the bus girl cleaning up the table that I just sat at.

Tavra. 

That's all I have to say today.

Maybe I will blog lightly for awhile.

This might cost me some of my new readers.

I feel pretty weary right now.

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Hello - and goodbye

Christian hymns have been playing in my head continuously for the past several days. I believe this is because I was unable to travel to Soundarya's funeral and so my subconscious mind had to create a funeral for me. The only way it knew how to do this was to pull up the hymns that it has heard at so many funerals - none of them Hindu. I just don't know any Hindu funeral hymns.

Within the past few hours, the hymns have gone away. They have been replaced by two Beatles songs, which come and go as they please: To Know Her is to Love Her and "I don't know why you say goodbye I say hello." So my personal funeral for Soundarya must be over. I did not see her body or the beautiful saree and flowers that would have adorned her. I did not witness her cremation. I did not observe or participate in the rituals. I did not get to embrace her mother and father, her brother and sister or any of her large family of relatives - my relatives now.

I did not get to weep with them.

Even so, my brain provided what it could by way of a personal funeral and now that funeral is over and I must move on.

Before I do, I thought that I would put up one last picture of Soundarya and I thought that it should be from when we first met - either from the wedding feast for Vivek and Khena or from the walk Sandy and I took afterward.

So I typed "Sandy" into my computer's internal search engine and then chose several candidates from the many thumbnails that appeared upon my screen. I narrowed these down to the three pictured here on my monitor and then finally chose the one to the left, desaturated of most of its color.

Then I realized that I could not just put a picture from the past up in the context of the past, but that my "hello-goodbye" picture had to be as I saw it today - looking out at me from my computer screen in my dimly lit office.

The two model airplanes on the wall to the right, as some of you know, were made by my deceased brother, Ron, before he broke his neck and became tetraplegic. 

Ganesh Facebooked a link to me of a song, Kabhi Kabhie Mere Dil Mein, performed by professionals. He and she once sang it together and ended it with a big laugh fest. I listened to the song several times, but each time I closed my eyes so that I would not see the actors in the video, but only her and I saw her strongly. She once told me online that she had visited a seer who had told her that we had been close in lives past and would be close in lives future.

This life is the only life that I know and am certain is real, but it is a nice thought and would explain many things.

Now I will let her go. I will not stop thinking of her, my tears for her will not altogether dry, but I will let her go and I will deal with the things that I must deal with everyday and I won't be blogging about her anymore.

At least not for now, not for awhile. Someday, when I find the money to return to India and capture the time to find a way to better tell her story, then I will blog about her again. How can a storyteller have a muse and not tell her story?

I will tell it, Muse. I will tell your story. The world will know about you - your sweet, gentle, caring soul that could bestow kindness not only upon a kitten but even upon a bug - or a cobra... the fierce defense that you would throw up to protect those you loved against those more powerful than you... the dreams, passions, ambitions and desires that filled you... the bitter disappointments that you pushed through again and again right up until this last one... the beautiful even if painful memory that you have now become.

I will tell this story - but not now. For now, I must pull back and do other things.

As for these two on their snowmachine, I saw them yesterday afternoon off Church Road as I was cruising and drinking a Metro coffee that I had bought from Shoshana.

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