I wrote this on my facebook page, and it is true. Making pictures in Yosemite is hard. It means trying to revisit the images of the great masters. No matter what you do, you know that any shot you take has been shot far better, processed with greater skill, and has has already been turned in to an iconic image the message of which is part of our shared visual language already. Ansel Adams alone has pretty much held the court here since he first put hand to plate. I don’t resent him or any of the other great photographers who’ve, in a sense, created the myth of this park. Rather, I bask in the direction they’ve provided the rest of us. I honestly believe they’ve taught us how to see and read this place. So what is left for the rest of us to do? Make our pictures anyway. The park is startling in its grandness. As soon as you reach the first tree, you realize you’ve set foot upon one of the few remaining marvels on this earth. Though I think of myself as a photographer before I see myself as a tourist, I understand fully the emotions that compel the visitor here to shoot everything. Yosemite is simply that beautiful. But now I’ve left. I am in Half Moon Bay. The good weather has followed us, and I plan on posting soon on some thought I have formed on HDR in photographs. Hence the photo above. I will also share my reflections on the peace of spirit that nature feeds us when we partake of her. But writing on a cell phone just doesn’t let the writing juices flow well. Especially when you have an exhausted 2 year old asleep on your chest. So, TTFN.