One thing I love about Colorado is that if you head an hour in any direction you'll find yourself in a drastically different environment from where you started, both ecologically and culturally. On our early May travel to Denver, which I wrote about here, we couldn't resist taking day trips to two of our favorite and varied spots: Boulder and Summit County. Boulder sits at the base of the Flatirons (above from Chautauqua) and is quite a lovely little place. We started our morning with a trip to the Boulder Farmers' Market, which was packed with organic produce, dairy, flowers, coffee and baked goods (naturally we made a beeline for the baked goods). How I love some Colorado blue columbine. Next we headed to Chautauqua for a short hike—the only type we can manage with the littles at this stage, since one of them is walking and gets easily distracted by things like streams and flowers. Chautauqua has a fascinating history (check out the website) and serves as a gateway to the Flatirons. As you begin your hike, you get an incredible view of the mountains. (Thanks to my sister, Mari, for taking the photo below of Nora and me on Nora's birthday hike.) When you turn around, you're in for a nice surprise: the entire city of Boulder laid out before you. After our hike, we headed to Mountain Sun for lunch, then wandered around the downtown Pearl Street Mall. By that point, it was time to eat again. So we wandered over to one of the most fabulous places in Colorado for some birthday high tea: The Boulder Dushanbe Teahouse. As usual, it was divine. Really, the Dushanbe is a must when in Boulder. (Here's a detail of the ceiling.) And with that, we were too stuffed full of pastries and unusual teas to do anything but pile into the car and head back to Denver to go to bed. Another day, we headed west along I-70 about 90 minutes into the mountains to our old stomping ground of Summit County, home to five famous ski resorts. We've spent several seasons and many weekend trips there, but it was our first visit since the summer of 2011. The approach is both stunning (below you see the Gore Range with Buffalo Mountain on the left and Red Peak on the right) and death defying (do you know what a runaway truck ramp is?). On the drive, we set a personal best for animal sightings, including a flock of bighorn sheep (below), two herds of elk and the Denver buffalo herd. First we stopped in Frisco at our favorite lunch spot, Butterhorn Bakery, then crossed the street to browse the cutest shop in the county, The Next Page Bookstore & Tea Bar. Both places are just down Main Street from the Summit Daily News, where I worked during the summer of 2008. (You can find a few of my favorite stories from that summer here.)
There was still a fair amount of snow in the mountains, which isn't unusual in early May at the valley's elevation of 9,200 feet. Hiking was out of the question and we weren't prepared to ski with the girls, so we made just one more stop before heading back to Denver: the Dillon Marina playground. Not a bad view for a playground. Just don't forget your sunscreen.
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Colorado has been on my mind lately; several areas have already been hit hard by wildfires this season. So it seems fitting to post (finally) some field notes from our trip to Denver in early May. The shots above and below have nothing to do with wildfire—just regular old sunsets over the Front Range from the condo we rented in the Capitol Hill neighborhood. Our impetus for traveling to Colorado during that awkward time of year when winter activities are grinding to a halt but summer is still a ways off was a business trip of Jeff's. But I'll take whatever chance comes my way to head to the Rockies and see my Denver-dwelling little sister. Later this week I'll post about our day trips to Boulder and Summit County, but here I'll focus on our adventures around Denver. Below clockwise from left: A pretty church on 9th...after we got six inches of snow in May. Another perfect sunset. A visit to my favorite—and the most swoon-worthy—bookstore in all the land, Tattered Cover on Colfax Avenue. The pavilion at Cheesman Park. And another view from Cheesman Park, overlooking the mountains. We spent a delightful morning at the Denver Botanic Gardens. Spring flowers were just beginning to bloom around the grounds, which was strange considering that our home in North Carolina was already feeling like a tropical rainforest of neon green foliage. Can you guess Cricket's favorite part of our garden visit? Yep, this pond full of toads...which were doing what toads do in the spring, but I'll spare you photos of that. We took a nice stroll through City Park with my sister and her little dog, known to Cricket as "Doggy Peter," to distinguish him from her two human cousins named Peter. I'm not sure what the girls enjoyed more: exploring the park or feeding Peter treats. We also came upon this tree of nesting cormorants, which surprised me since I think of them as sea birds. Now let's talk about food, because our family likes to eat. A lot. One highlight was our ladies' lunch at Udi's, which opened recently next to Tattered Cover. Another highlight was joining my sister and her friends for their tradition of "Sunday Supper" at Lala's Wine Bar + Pizzeria, which involved a four-course family-style meal for $10 per person, plus plenty of wine and ridiculous stories.
We also checked out several local coffee shops around town. Pablo's Coffee offered the most authentic coffee shop feel. Drip had the best mocha but little ambience. Roostercat Coffee House didn't serve up a great coffee but had a nice outdoor patio with a fire pit, which would have been a cozy spot to hang out had it not been hidden under six inches of snow. A tasty brunch menu beckoned us to Shells & Sauce, an outing made extra sweet by the fact that my sister and her boyfriend offered to take the girls to the Denver Zoo so we could have a quiet meal. De-lish. (They even wore Nora out so much that she took a long nap.) Three years ago, I was honored to be asked to speak at my high school’s Cum Laude Society induction ceremony the night before graduation. Since it’s that time of year again, I thought it would be fun to share with you a slightly abridged version of the advice I gave to the graduates. Here goes: One night, [now] 10 years ago, I sat alone in my tent staring at a paper packet covered in cartoon worms and wondering whether I would survive the night. The front of the packet contained no words. Just yellow, orange and blue worms that seemed to wriggle right off the paper. I emptied the packet’s contents—what I had been assured was anti-parasite powder—into my water bottle and shook it until the particles dissolved. After a few deep breaths, I gulped down the mixture, which tasted suspiciously like Tang. I was in the middle of a two-month stint as a field research assistant in remote Madagascar studying primate behavior, and had managed to pick up some sort of stomach parasite that was about ready to finish me off. The nearest hospital was a three-day trek by car over washed-out dirt roads. But we had no car. Or any mode of communication with the world outside the nature reserve where we were living. So I just curled up in my sleeping bag to fend off the falling temperatures and lay listening to the growing sounds of night in the spiny desert. As I fell asleep, all I could think was: “What the hell am I doing here?” Upon beginning the field work, I figured out quickly that lying on my back under trees that spew human-blinding sap to observe lemurs—the least evolved of all primates—forage and groom, hardly resembled the romantic Jane Goodall-esque experience I had hoped for. Neither did scouring the forest floor to collect lemur fecal samples for hormone testing. I decided I could now safely check primatology off my list of potential careers. Did that make this entire adventure—or misadventure—a massive, reckless mistake? After all, I had been reduced to entrusting my life to the Malagasy version of Tang and still had no career path on the horizon. And if I died out here in the middle of nowhere, my parents would kill me! As it turned out, the Miracle Tang worked. I survived the night and made it home a month later. And, after losing 15 pounds during the trip, I was relieved to be back in a land of clean water, electricity and properly labeled anti-parasite medications. I also began to realize that the experience was far from a misstep off the path to a fulfilling career and an exciting life. It was the path—or a segment of the path, anyway. What I gained from the Madagascar experience far outweighed what I originally thought the opportunity could offer me. Because when I was not studying lemurs, I was playing with the village children, taking thousands of photographs and keeping a journal on my observations of life in a developing country where children in remote areas never even get the opportunity to learn the language of education or business (in this case French), where the infant mortality rate is more than 10 times that in the U.S. and where endemic plants and animals are tragically and rapidly being destroyed. When I returned to school that fall, I put together a photo exhibit juxtaposing pictures of Madagascar’s children with the broken landscapes they will one day inherit, hoping to elicit from the audience the same question with which I was struggling: What will be left for these children? Seeing the lack of public health services where I had lived further drew me to the field of public health. And I couldn’t stop writing about what I had witnessed, if only to organize the thoughts that haunted my mind every time I ate a meal that did not consist of rice and beans, or took a shower that did not come from a 2-gallon plastic bag filled with water I had drawn from a well and laid out to warm in the sun. Little by little, the lessons I gathered from what I thought was a random summer in Madagascar seemed to weave together a picture of my future that I hadn’t seen clearly before. I realized my interests in writing, photography, health, environment, science and international development were not disparate after all. I did not have to follow a prescribed path deeply into one field at the expense of my passion for the others. I was not flailing, as I had felt I was for most of college! All it took was a few parasites and a couple groups of lemurs to show me that I really was moving forward, on my own path. Following these varied interests led me to: work in the fields of public health and international development; write for numerous publications; intern at National Geographic and other magazines and newspapers; create photographic documentaries, travel extensively, earn a master’s degree in medical journalism and try my hand at freelance writing and photography. I cringe to think what I might be doing now if I had never taken a risk and ventured to Madagascar or to the many other places and jobs I’ve landed along the way. If I had stuck to a path that was safer, one where I seized opportunities only if I knew exactly where they would lead, I would be lost in someone else’s world right now. As you prepare to graduate, you may or may not have given much thought to your career path. Regardless, you will probably feel pressured at some point, by your peers, your parents, your professors or your employers to head in a direction that is of their liking, and which may be quite far from yours. You may be tempted by the careers that many consider the most prestigious. And those careers can be great options for people who are passionate about them. But open your eyes to the limitless possibilities that await you. You owe it to yourself and the world in which you live to find something—or always keep searching for it if it eludes you—that you love, that you are good at and that will give you the opportunity to contribute in some way to the society in which you live. As you head off to college, your world will broaden. You will encounter courses on topics of which you’ve never heard. You will meet professors and visiting lecturers who are the most accomplished researchers or practitioners in their fields. You will befriend students with life experiences very different from your own, and from whom you will learn quite a bit. The opportunities will be endless. But they may also take more effort to find—both inside and outside the scope of your university—and to whittle down to manageable proportions. They can be overwhelming. So here are a few tips that might help you discover your own path—one that balances career and life and brings in an income. (Yes, you have to do something that will get you off your parents’ payroll.) First, be adventurous. Seek out and try new things even when you don’t know where they’ll lead you —whether they are unusual jobs or research opportunities, travel that might be less than comfortable or even dates with people who aren’t your perfect match on paper. Trial and error is your best friend. Second, if you haven’t already, learn to communicate well. And I’m not talking about texting. A strong communicator can talk or write her way to success in any field. You could be a world-class engineer, but it will still be difficult to land your dream job without a convincing cover letter or, in the very least, an introductory email that involves proper punctuation, the word “you” spelled “y-o-u” instead of just “u” and a distinct lack of smiley faces. If you develop a treatment for a life-threatening disease but can’t for the life of you put together a journal article or presentation that demonstrates the strength of your trials, you’re out of luck. And so is the rest of the world. So make sure you can write and speak persuasively. Third, speaking of journals, please learn how to read and evaluate—even in a basic sense—a scientific journal article. I don’t care if you plan to be an English major or if you took a vow of scientific celibacy following your AP biology exam. In the age of infotainment, don’t take anyone’s word for anything. You have easier access to information than any previous generation, so learn how to use it well. Go straight to the source and figure out how to devour it to become a more informed citizen. Fourth, learn to listen to the other point of view—with grace. (I’m still struggling with this one.) Very few things in life are clear-cut, and the grey zone is what makes life interesting. You will open many more doors for yourself if you can be sympathetic and practical than if you are simply arrogant. Fifth, get out of your bubble—whatever your personal bubble may be. There is always more of the world to soak in and try to understand. I can’t encourage you enough to study abroad and stay with a foreign family. Learn another language. Volunteer on the opposite side of town from where you grew up. Or take a class that sounds intriguing even if you might not earn an “A.” Sixth, find balance between work and play. Until now, you have had a fairly regimented schedule of required courses and sports practices and family obligations. Now it’s pretty much up to you. And you will struggle for the rest of your life to find the proper balance of your time. Sometimes you will fail and pay the consequences, but always try to regain that balance—it’s worth it, especially once you have a family. And lastly, develop your powers of discernment. Learn to distinguish what is right for you—based on your own strengths, interests and experiences—from the path that is simply popular or expected. High school, I hope, has prepared you well for the future of your choosing. But let the process be one of trial and error. Seek out all types of adventures and learn from them. Learn what you enjoy learning. Learn how you enjoy spending your day. Learn the level of stress that prods you into productivity but keeps you from becoming institutionalized. And learn what you dream of for your future family, so you can find the balance to realize those dreams.
You don’t have to be fighting parasites in the middle of Madagascar to find your path. In fact, your parents would probably appreciate if your path were a little tamer. But don’t sell yourself short. You have already demonstrated in high school that you are prepared to take the world by storm. So do just that. The world awaits you. Congratulations! My posts have been travel heavy over the last few months; we've been on the road almost as much as we've been home, which doesn't leave much time for creative endeavors. Believe me, it takes all the creativity I can muster to get our luggage together to fly with two tiny kids. (Crayons? Check. Treats? Check. Books? Check. Sanity? Hmm...) We have one more trip on the books for this month—Colorado!—and then I'm planning to stay put for a few weeks or even months. I've got a long list of neglected project ideas to tackle, and I'm sure the girls would appreciate spending their afternoons playing in the backyard before it gets too hot to venture out. Next week I'll be sharing a post about the one project we've managed to complete lately: our new raised garden beds. Until then, here's a quick DC dispatch. This post was supposed to be filled with gorgeous photos from the National Cherry Blossom Festival. It is not. Our recent trip up to DC happened to coincide with the estimated peak bloom dates. But after a few weeks of colder-than-average weather, we arrived just as the estimated peak was pushed back by several weeks. Regardless, we had a lovely and snowy visit to the city. While there a million activities to do and places to eat in and around DC, I'm going to share with you just a few that we hit up this time. First let's talk about family-friendly food. Cafe Deluxe in Bethesda was packed with families enjoying Saturday brunch...though we may have been most boisterous family present. Guapo's has been a decades-long favorite Mexican spot of my DC relatives (and therefore a decades-long favorite of mine), so naturally we had to introduce the girls to it via take-out. And have you tried HomeMade Pizza? They sell prepared pizzas and calzones to take home and bake. A friend brought over some calzones, along with a giant chocolate chip cookie. We baked them while we got the girls ready for bed, then devoured dinner as soon as the house was quiet. The cookie lasted approximately 30 seconds. Now we must discuss one of my all-time favorite bookstores: Politics and Prose, which I first visited as a kid with my aunt and uncle about 20 years ago. (I’m not really old enough to say that, am I?) It’s always on my list of stops when I'm back in town. Of course this visit was different for two reasons: 1) I had the little one with me and 2) I've become a caffeine addict, preferably in mocha form, since said kids arrived in my life. These differences caused me to make the following discoveries: 1) The store has a great kids' section. We even happened upon a musical story hour, about which Nora was hand-clapping enthusiastic and Cricket was mildly terrified. And 2) Modern Times Coffeehouse, on the lower level, makes an incredible mocha, which is the measure by which all coffeehouses should be evaluated. Oh, and did I mention that Politics and Prose has an espresso book machine? I've been dreaming of printing books on one of those nifty machines for years but haven't finished anything worthy. Yet. Unlike musical story hour, animals are popular with both our girls. We spent a morning at the National Zoo and are still talking about all our animal sightings. I had forgotten how pleasant it is to walk around the zoo, especially on a cool morning before the crowds arrive. Planning your next adventure? Click here for more ideas.
We've been home a week and I'm still pining over Charlottesville's mountain farms, its astounding ratio of independent bookstores/coffee shops to humans and its extensive arts scene. Do I see a moving truck in our future? Well, maybe somewhere in the hazy distance. But for now I'll just have to be satisfied by sharing some travel tips. Let's start with the surroundings. One afternoon I knew the girls would refuse to nap at our rental house, so I loaded them into the car for a scenic drive, grabbed my camera and headed out of town on Route 20 towards Barboursville, which is about 30 minutes away. They fell asleep immediately as I enjoyed winding through ranches and vineyards, most of which looked a little something like the photo above. Not a bad nap-time view. When I spotted the tiny roadside All Saints Episcopal Chapel along Route 20 in Stony Point, I couldn't help but pull over to admire it from the moss-covered front lawn. The chapel holds services twice a month. You can't visit Charlottesville without walking around the historic "grounds" (apparently it's not called campus) of the University of Virginia. We were a couple weeks early to witness the full effect of spring in the school's gardens, but that didn't stop us from having lots of fun playing with a garden gate and finding a few early blooms. I'm looking forward to checking it out again in the summer or fall, along with Monticello's extensive gardens. Before heading to campus—er, the grounds—we grabbed a bite to eat and some caffeine at two Charlottesville establishments: Bodo's Bagels and Para Coffee. Both sit across the street from the school in an era known as The Corner, which has plenty of food options. The city's downtown walking mall is about a mile down the road. Welcome to the land of coffee shops (Java Java makes a mean mocha), bookstores (New Dominion Bookshop is the oldest independent bookseller in Virginia), restaurants (Jeff had a delicious business dinner at Commonwealth Restaurant and Skybar; I had my eye on Citizen Burger Bar but didn't make it there, so it's first on my list for our next visit) and boutiques with the cutest baby gifts known to man (O, Suzannah and Petit Bebe). I found a sweet handmade romper for Nora's birthday at the C'ville Arts Cooperative Gallery and could have easily bought an armload (or carload?) of other items. While I was exploring, Cricket had a blast with her cousins at the Virginia Discovery Museum. Just a few blocks from the walking mall, we stumbled upon the Main Street Market a brilliant purple building packed with artisan shops. We hit up Feast! for cheese, fruit and Virginia wine (which was actually quite good); Albemarle Bread Company for baguettes (which could easily have passed as Parisian) and The Spice Diva for sea salt. One word: yum. Go to this market. Some of our family is lucky enough to live outside of Charlottesville, and I couldn't resist including a few photos of the view from their house. Here's one from the golden hour before sunset. And here's an Instagram from midday. Sometimes I convince myself that if I could just set up an office with a view like this one, my novel would write itself in a few weeks. But then I remember I'm a full-time mom to two tiny girls, so my office view has nothing to do with my lack of novel writing. The landscape would still be inspiring, though. I'll be posting a dispatch from our recent trip to Washington, DC, next week. Planning an adventure? Click here for more ideas.
P.S. We're big into hiking but didn't get a chance to explore much of the mountains on this trip. Perhaps we'll head to Shenandoah National Park on our next visit. We're always up early, but it's one thing to be awake and another to get the family out the door for a dawn adventure. When I read that the best time to spot manatees at Blue Spring State Park is early morning in winter, I knew we had to make it happen on our recent trip to the Orlando area. And we did. And you must, too, if you find yourself in central Florida. It was well worth the hurried production of changing and dressing and feeding and navigating (and maybe a few false stops for coffee before finding a shop that was open and had a functioning espresso machine...). The park is a designated manatee refuge and home to the largest spring on the St. Johns River. It has a fascinating natural and social history. Thanks to my friend, Sarah, for tipping us off to this incredible place! We arrived just after the park opened at 8 a.m. The rangers had counted 16 manatees in the spring that morning, including a few babies. The water was clean and clear, appearing brilliant blue in some places and grass green in others. A boardwalk stretched the length of the spring, with small docks extending over the water along the way for excellent viewing. It was teeming with activity; everywhere we stopped, we saw a handful of manatees, schools of huge fish called gar and, here and there, alligators, heron and cormorant. (Believe it or not, all of the above are present in the following frame, though a few are hidden in the shadows.) The manatees were interacting with each other quite a bit. Cricket was sure this one was waving to her. This enormous mama manatee stayed still during our entire visit while her 2- or 3-week-old baby cuddled against her back or side. Can you spot the alligator and great blue heron? Was our visit to this little gem of a place just a dream? If I didn't have the photos to prove otherwise, I'd be wondering... In the mood for more wildlife viewing? Check out the gorgeous nesting egrets we happened upon at Kraft Azalea Garden earlier in the week.
Imagine my surprise when I parked the car at Kraft Azalea Garden in Winter Park, FL, (on our recent trip to the Orlando area) and noticed a photographer aiming his lens at the trees instead of at the azaleas we'd come to see. I looked up to find an amazing surprise: a colony of nesting egrets. They were actively building nests (a male typically builds or begins to build a nest before finding a mate), flying around chasing each other either to defend their nests or to try to mate (males and females are identical, so it was tough to tell what was going on), displaying and sitting atop their nests. During breeding season, egrets develop neon green masks around their eyes and beaks, as well as beautiful plumage. Treetop touchdown. Collecting nest-building supplies while displaying plumage. A graceful takeoff. Two egrets aggressively dive-bombing each other (mating? defending a nest? fighting over a gal?). The five-acre park is nestled in a gorgeous neighborhood on Lake Maitland. This little lady had a blast exploring the park with her sister. Dashing around the massive cypress trees. We were just in time to catch the tail-end of the azalea bloom. The girls also enjoyed watching kayakers and other boaters from the dock. If you find yourself in the Orlando area, I'd highly recommend visiting this little park. Bring your camera and a picnic (and appropriate shoes for dashing around amidst the cypress).
In the mood for more wildlife viewing? Check out my post on manatees at the incredible Blue Spring State Park. This is a tale about a non-Disney-oriented trip to Orlando (though we did spend a day at SeaWorld). It all started when Jeff decided at the last minute to attend a conference there. Even more spontaneously, we decided to tag along. I'm convinced that the act of my purchasing plane tickets spurs the universe to react in the following two ways: creating horrendous weather conditions for the travel day and causing one or both my girls to develop an ear infection the day before travel. The universe did not make an exception for this trip, but somehow we made it down to Orlando rather uneventfully. Until our sad retreat home, we had a wonderful trip. Since we had so many adventures, I wrote separate posts about two other animal-packed highlights: nesting egrets at Kraft Azalea Garden in Winter Park and manatees at Blue Spring State Park. Above: Dolphin emerging from the water at SeaWorld. The conference hotel was already booked, but leave it to Jeff to find a room at the hotel across the street...which happened to be the Nickelodeon Suites Resort...which happened to have a Dora the Explorer suite...which happens to be the only show Cricket watches...which makes Dora her favorite character of all time. (Plus Cricket and Dora could be twins. The first time Cricket saw a picture of Dora, she thought it was a picture of herself.) So, yes. The Nick Hotel happened. Above left: First Dora sighting. (Our accommodations were a surprise.) Above right: Dora high five. Below: A resident swan swims in a Nick Hotel pond, with the hotel's neon walls(!) reflecting in the water. This heron was keeping the swan company one evening. A friend who grew up in the Orlando area gave us several ideas of "local" activities that would be manageable for me to do with the girls while Jeff was working. On the list was Dr. P. Phillips Community Park, which was a huge win. The lakeside park had swings, unique play equipment, fields for romping, a dog park for dog watching and a paved rec path. I'm not typically a theme park person, but I always thought it would be fun to check out SeaWorld, especially with the girls. It was! We arrived as they were opening the gates Saturday morning, which worked well because the crowds were too intense for our shy Cricket (and me) later in the day. The dolphin tank was a particular favorite for all of us. Take a look at the detail of this dorsal fin; most of the nicks are from the dolphins nipping each other as part of their social interaction. Sometimes you get so excited about dolphins you just have to dance. I was so astounded by the immensity of the walrus that it made me question whether I've actually ever seen a walrus outside of nature documentaries. This guy was unbelievable. We had a great time at the shark tank, too. (And for the photogs among you, here's what happens when crank up the ISO to 6400—very grainy but worth it to capture the moment in a dark setting.) Below top: Cricket also loved seeing Shamu and Baby Shamu, as well as the seals and sea lions. She got a kick out of watching Jeff throw fish to a couple of hungry sea lions. Below bottom: Falling immediately asleep in the car (with souvenirs in hand) is the sign of a successful adventure. P.S. I’m not making restaurant recommendations for Orlando, since I came down with food poisoning the last night. Thankfully the rest of the family was spared. Here's to a husband strong enough to lug his infant, toddler and wife through two airports!
Look what I dug up last weekend. I took this photo, with the Matterhorn looming in the distance, half a lifetime ago while studying abroad in the Swiss Alps. (It's 15 years old—literally half my lifetime.)
Was that semester of hiking, biking, skiing and climbing (rock and ice, mind you) just a faraway dream or did it actually happen? My 1990s-era scrapbook and a bunch of crazy friends tell me it was real. I've only returned to Switzerland once since then, but you better believe I'll be trekking back there as soon as the kids are ready for such a grand adventure. (They will be "ready" when we gather the courage to take them on hellishly long plane/train rides.) One of these days I'll get around to scanning and sharing more of my old-fashioned 35-mm photos. Until then, you can check out another shot of the Matterhorn in my shop. Visiting the quaint little community of Valle Crucis, NC, feels like a throw-back to the late 1800s. The Watauga River winds gently through the mountain valley, past horse pastures, weathered barns and the historic Mast General Store. On our recent trip to the Blue Ridge Mountains, we found an excuse to visit Valle Crucis just about every day. (Click here to read my first post about this trip and here to read about our previous trip to the mountains.) We happened upon the pasture above during the golden hour—just before sunset—on a heavily overcast afternoon. The way the sun was hitting the muted winter landscape and looming clouds caught my eye, and I pulled the car over to take a few photos. The girls were with us, so I only had a few moments with my camera before someone piped up from the back seat that it was time for dinner. Tout de suite. Later that night, as I reviewed the photos, I noticed I had captured the light and color of the valley but missed a few details that could have made for interesting focal points. So I headed back to the same spot the following afternoon to take more pictures. The light wasn't as spectacular as it was the previous day, but I did nab those additional details I was pining over in the photos below. (Don't be afraid of the do-over!) Below: Isn't that tree fantastic? Below: You'll see the same (now blurred) tree on the upper right side of the photo, this time taken from across the valley. When I spied the barbed wire, hay bales and red barn, I thought the scene would make a nice shot. But when I realized I could also get that tree in the frame, I knew I had to have it. Our favorite aspect of this sweet mountain valley was the Valle Crucis Community Park, where we spent many hours walking along the Watauga River, playing at the playground and making new friends. Below, clockwise from left: How I love Nora's bulldog expression. Best playground ever. An old red farmhouse along the river. Happy, happy Cricket. Below: What a pleasant surprise: plump carved bears sprinkled around the park. Below left: The old-timey Mast General Store Annex, taken from Valle Crucis Community Park. Below right: I've been fly fishing a few times in my life and have caught exactly two things: 1) myself, managing to wrap the line around my neck, and 2) a rare and highly prized golden trout. I haven't been fishing since I caught that golden trout in Wyoming. You should quit while you're ahead, right? But the Watauga River looked so inviting on a mild winter afternoon that it made us want to grab fly rods and wade in. (And re-read A River Runs Through It for the 100th time.) We didn't get a chance to fish on this trip, but it was fun to watch the fishermen as we strolled the path along the river. (Cricket has been practicing her casting with a plastic toy fishing pole ever since.) We're hoping to explore the idyllic Mast Farm Inn and The 1861 Farmhouse if we're ever in the area sans babies.
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My new book is out! Click to learn more about it.Hello thereI'm Julia Soplop, writer and photographer. I believe there is something profound in bearing witness to moments of joy and pain in others’ lives. My husband, three girls and I live outside of Chapel Hill, NC. You can read more about me here.
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