Yellowstone

This past May we had the chance to spend a day in Yellowstone National Park--a little hiatus in a mad drive across the country from Chicago to Vancouver. Little did we know when we set out on our "summer" road trip that we would arrive at the park only the day after it had reopened following a long winter's hibernation.

There was still snow on the ground and on the peaks, and the roads were empty as far as the eye could see (undoubtedly everyone else thought to check the weather and saw there was a blizzard on its way).

A teeny little blizzard was a small price to pay for having the park almost all to ourselves. We did cross paths with a few hardy locals, still bearing their winter coats (and making us wish we'd had the foresight to bring along our own). Note: T-shirts in May are not seasonally appropriate clothing in Wyoming.

Stunning waterfalls, canyons, rock formations and volcanic pools, and we got to enjoy it virtually uniterrupted (except for a few herd of shaggy bison and one grizzly bear who woke up from his winter's sleep a few days too early).

Pura Vida

What better way to combat the winter blues during the first snowstorm of the season than by looking back to warmer and sunnier times when winter and work were thousands of miles away and your only concern was whether to apply SPF 45 or 70.


Time spent lying on the beach


watching the sun move across the sky, palm trees silhouetted above my head,

enjoying plenty of good laughs with good friends.

Perhaps with just a dash of adventure,

and the thrill of learning a new skill (or attempting to learn a skill and falling off the surfboard a whole lot in the process).

And of course, there were those moments of absolute hilarity, the memory of which will bring smiles for years to come.

Frankly, as I sit here at my computer with the snow falling outside and my tan fading faster than fifteen minutes of fame, it all seems a little like a dream.

Flash Fall

What happened to fall this year? By the time I noticed the temperature start to drop and headed to the Catskills for some woodsy hiking and fall foliage photography, the leaves had already fallen.

Now that I'm getting around to posting the photos (just a few weeks later, truly!), we have already had our first snow of the winter and streets are bedecked with Christmas lights.

There wasn't nearly enough time to properly enjoy lightweight coats and tweedy skirts, pumpkin bread and mountains of apples and all other things that feel like fall. How did it manage to pass me by? Next year I must pay more attention.

Montauk

There is something special about visiting the beach in the off-season.


Perhaps it's the wide open vistas of windswept sand and bleached driftwood without a soul in sight.


The thrill of solitude after months spent in close quarters with millions of other New Yorkers.


And, of course, what can compare with the joy of feeling the wind in your hair and sand beneath your paws?

Bella Italia

I visited Italy for the first time a couple of months ago. I was only there a week, but somehow, two months later, I am still daydreaming about the rolling green hills, picturesque city streets and one very memorable plate of asparagus risotto.



The scenery was stunning. The Italians were warm and welcoming. I took to saying "grazie mille" like a fish to water. And the food was so. darn. good. So good that I have no photographs of it. It was all eaten too fast. So good that I began to wonder whether fresh mozzarella might have been the key to the Renaissance.


And the gelato. Pardon me while I swoon at the memory.

Quick, somebody remind me again why I live here and not there?


From ancient Roman civilization to the churches, frescos and fountains of the Renaissance, we all know that the richness of Italy's history is staggering.



So rich, in fact, that artifacts which would be priceless ancient treasures anywhere else in the world are left lying by the railroad tracks. In Italy they're just the extras.


But the most memorable aspects of the trip remain the little details. Geraniums in a window in Verona. A bulldog sunning himself on a balcony over a small piazza in Venice. A tiny white Fiat 500 sandwiched into a parking spot about the size of my coffee table.



An elderly gentleman boarding a tram in Rome with his briefcase and fedora. Giant wheels of cheese and mountains of salami pouring out of the stalls in the Florence central market. Ornate doorknobs, rain-slicked cobblestones, and lines of laundry hanging against a blue sky.

Two Cities by the Sea

In April we spent nine days visiting the Baha'i holy places in Haifa and Akka, two cities on the edge of the Mediterranean that hold a special significance for all Baha'is.

In Akka we walked the paths of history through the ancient city, following in footsteps made over a century ago.




In the rooms, the courtyards, and the gardens we passed through in Haifa and Akka, the air is heavy with the weight of the prayers and thoughts of hundreds of thousands of visitors to these sacred places.






We had time to reflect, to remember our loved ones, to soak in the beauty, to breathe those Mediterranean breezes touched ever so slightly with the scent of roses, and to refresh our minds and hearts.






More photos on Flickr.

The Heart and Soul

Wildlife adventures and beautiful scenery are all well and good, but people give a place its heart and soul. It is the photographs of the men, women, and especially children I interacted with that are the best reflection of the warmth and friendliness I love most about Nepal.

What a country of beautiful faces.

A country of diversity.

Of shy smiles.

And irresistible cheeks.

And little boys wanting to play with the big kids. (Photo courtesy of Ash)

A country of curiosity.

And warm welcomes.


And just a little bit of camera-shyness.


It is a country filled with playfulness.

And amateur photographers. (Video also courtesy of Ash. Thanks Ash!)

And distinguished gentlemen.

Nepal is a country of eager models.

A place where everyone wants to join the fun.

A place where everyone is welcome.