試し切り

There is a word in Japanese, 試し切り (tameshigiri), sometimes associated with the Samurai. Literally, it translates to trying (試し) cutting (切り), and according to myth it refers to the act of "trying out one's new sword", often on a random passerby. It's unsure how much truth there is to this, though. I would expect that anyone living in feudal Japan would soon learn to give swordsmith shops a wide berth on the off chance a Samurai was picking up a new order.

Regardless, it's a fascinating (albeit gruesome) story. Whether or not Samurai actually stepped outside and sliced some poor chap in half to make sure their sword "worked", I'm sure many of us can relate to the concept. Who doesn't want to run right out and start playing with a particularly coveted new toy the moment it is out of the box? I have been guilty of tameshigiri, more often than I could count. Although, to my knowledge no one's blood has ever been shed as a result (except, on occasion, for my own).

While I didn't get a new sword to try out I did get a package in the mail that I'd been waiting for, a new lens for my camera (Canon EF 50mm F1.8, my first prime (non telephoto/zoom) lens). As soon as I ripped open the box I wanted to try it out. When you get a new lens, the first few pictures are always special. Here are the first two images taken with this one:

This one isn't all that great a picture, and there's a bit of noise in it from me fiddling around too much in Photoshop, but it is the very first one taken with the new lens. So it's a keeper.

This one turned out way more better. The sharpness is pretty good, even with the low light. The contrast is good between each of the objects, too. All around not bad for just sitting on the couch taking a picture of the coffee table.

Well, this morning dawned bright and clear, so I thought I'd try it out in some light, too.

I took Luna along too, although it was a bit cold for her. I think the two years we spent in Arizona made her forget she was born and raised an Alaskan dog. This is her shivering on the shore of Lake McDonald.

I hope you all appreciate what I went through to get this picture. I was up by the park's entrance sign taking some photos of the Middle Fork of the Flathead River (I wasn't happy with any of those) when I saw the sun lighting up some spruce trees down by the river. So I hopped the huge snowbank along the road and post-holed my way down into the forest. I knew we had a lot of the white stuff, but it's been a while since I tried walking through snow that was deeper than my waist. Not an easy task.

And once I got down there I was so pooped I just flopped back into the snow to take a break. That's when I looked up at this tree that was blocking the sun and thought the snow looked cool all highlighted like that.

Then, this evening I drove into town to get some groceries and caught a glimpse of that amazing phenomenon you see in the mountains during winter sometimes. When the fresh snow on the mountains captures the last rays of the sun, contrasted by the dark clouds behind, it looks like the mountain is glowing from within.

I'm really quite happy with this lens. Definitely worth the price! I think this little beauty will be attached to my camera quite frequently in the months to come.

Snow

We took the kids for a snowy New Years Day walk this afternoon.

Snowy Fur

Snowy Sonja

Snowy Car

Behind Our House

After several days of biting wind and blowing snow, today the air is bright, cold and crisp. So, despite the subzero temps I grabbed my camera, pulled on my mukluks and post-holed my way through the snow and into the woods just behind our house.






I'm still having some difficulty figuring out how to deal with the white balance and contrast between shadows and light in the snow, but I think I'm getting a little better.

Winter

Hazy Shade of Winter

The snow has been steadily creeping lower and lower on the mountainsides this past week. Sonja captured this image on Monday as the clouds began to lift. While we haven't had any snow falling at park headquarters, yet, we did have a pretty hard frost last night, and when I took the dogs out for a walk this morning I could smell winter in the air.

This is one of my favorite times of the year, and something I really missed while we were in Arizona: the crisp, clear air filling your lungs, snuggling under a blanket with a warm cup of hot chocolate, the snot-cicles freezing on your beard...

I also missed living in a place where the ecosystem is largely still intact. A place where most of the large predators still roam the forests. A place where, every time you go for a hike in the woods the instinctual knowledge that somewhere out there, perhaps close by, is a large, furry animal that could eat you still has a ring of truth to it.

I was reminded of that very thing this morning while taking the dogs for their walk. As I stood on the trail, waiting for Harvey to finish one of his ten-minute marathon pees, my ears perked up as a mournful and haunting sound in the distance echoed over the tree tops. It was followed by others like it, some higher in pitch, a few quite deep. It was a sound impossible to hear in most parts of this country...the sound of wolves.

There's no other sound (except, perhaps, the cry of a loon on a fog-shrouded lake in the great north woods) that captures the essence wildness like the howl of a wolf. And I feel fortunate to be able to call them neighbor.

Snow and Cactuses

When Minnesotans leave Minnesota to visit the desert, you'd think they'd be able to expect warmth and sunshine. Well, that's what the Renslows were expecting when they planned their spring break trip out here. Of course, things don't always work out according to plan.

Case in point. We hadn't gotten so much as a flake of snow here at the Well all winter long. Then, Janine and family arrive from Minnesota and the very next day what happens? Snow. In March. In Arizona. Since we didn't get much exploring in due to the cold wind and snow, we decided to head south today, hoping that the Phoenix sun would pan out and give us a nice sunny and warm day. Becca sure was excited about that prospect.

Or should we say possessed by that idea? Anyway, it did pan out well after all. The day was gorgeous. Not too hot, not too windy.

We arrived at the Desert Botanical Garden and spent the afternoon checking out all the cool cacti and bird life of the Sonoran Desert.

Here's one of the dozens of Verdins hopping around in the mesquite and palo verde trees.

Here's one of the butterflies from the butterfly pavilion. But since it's not a bird, I have no idea what kind it is. I think it's an orange one.

Hannah was disappointed that none of them landed on her, but she got to be a butterfly once we got outside.

Some of the exhibits demonstrated how people use the desert plants for their survival, too. This Hohokam hut was fun to explore.

But the excitement couldn't last forever. And eventually even Becca's energy began to wane. They were all troopers, though. And at dinner everyone commented on how cool the plants were and about all the fun they had.

I think this picture says it all.

104° F

Fahrenheit 104: The temperature at which Olligs melt...

Anyway, it's too bloody hot to post, today. Instead, you can watch these videos from our last winter in Seward playing in the snow.


A boring video of a mid-December blizzard.


Hiking with Sonja, Luna and Harvey on the Grayling Lake Trail north of Seward, Alaska, last Thanksgiving.

I'll post more when it's no longer in the triple digits.