I did the Polar Bear Plunge on one of the coldest days we’ve had in Seattle. We had clear sky’s and the sun joined the party. My friends and I were in the water long enough to dip and dash. We giggled, shivered and wrapped ourselves in towels elated that we did it. I looked over my shoulder to see this man in a zen state meditating in the 43 degree Puget Sound. I was astounded along with wondering how he was avoiding hypothermia. I applaud his mental strength.
I like that my birthday is in the Fall and that a dramatic Oregon beach is just a short drive down Hwy. 101. Coastal weather in November can bring muted sunsets where you can’t tell the difference between the sky and the water. At night, you can feel the strength of the oceans power purely by the sound alone. It was exactly what I wanted.
This short film of impeccable imagery is transcending. It showed me that there is no limit of what you can create or capture through a lens. I wept as I watched. I was overwhelmed at the beauty on my screen. I want to share it with you, the world, anyone with a beating heart. I am so grateful for Edd Cox (former oil painting teacher) for introducing Gregory Colbert’s work with me. Gregory has a vision and travels all over the world to create these films and photographs. He places himself in remote and dangerous areas to show the connection we have with nature and animals. I’ve never seen anyone do it as well as he has. If I were allowed only one art exhibit before I die, it would be his.
I woke up this past Saturday morning with my truck adorned with snowflakes. Like stickers pressed up against the black paint, only temporary.
Someone opened up their home to me without meeting me first. Doesn’t that exceed a deal with only a handshake?
A Mason Jar of homemade peaches awaited my arrival on the kitchen table that he had made himself. He left me cross country trail maps, handwritten notes of local restaurants and the best coffee shop to visit.
My motivation for this mini getaway was to cross country ski on some of the best trails in the U.S. but my most favorite moments didn’t involve skis at all. It was hearing the owls in the nearby trees while I was photographing the stars late at night. It was feeding the hens and holding their freshly laid eggs in the palm of my hand. It was having a cat kneed on my lap like he had known me for years and looking through a television screen in a window framing the best view. Now that’s good T.V.
You wonder, what could possibly beat the rolling hills and the mountains dusted with powdered sugar in the Methow Valley? The people.