Lockdown in Spain-Day 35, (written on #36)

"Nevermore"

Quoth the Fat-headed bird when I asked what today will be like.  Then I asked what will go on today that didn't happen yesterday and he answered, "Nevermore", a reply which afeared me to reflect upon the morrow. 

Lockdown in Spain-Day 34, The orchard road revisited

One of our favorite walks is on a back road we call The Orchard Road.  It is about a 2 km walk, not challenging, but usually rewarding.  These photos were all taken on the same day.  I wish it could have been today but, no,  it was a few years ago.

These lemons should have been picked a month or so previously.  On the right of the picture, you can see this year's buds about to open in a couple of days.













Not my favorite artichoke photo, but those
are takenin the heat of late spring or summer,
when they bloom.  They taste better this time of year.

Lockdown in Spain-Day 33, some random photos Paris to Lisbon

Shot on the Paris Metro a few years ago when I met Dylan who had a conference there.  While he was working, I toured museums and wandered around.  I did some shopping on the Champs-Elysees, buying a tiny piece of lingerie for the obscene price of €85.  Skipped lunch that day.

After hours, he took me around a lot of the areas he had haunted back in the day when he studied there.  At 0430 one morning we were wandering along the Left Bank looking for a cocktail bar he knew of, and I wondered just how much studying he did back then.  We found it and I passed on the more exotic offerings, settling for a shot of Jose Cuervo.  I paid €8.50, over half what a bottle would cost in the US at the time. 

The coup de grace came at Orly airport on the way out when I spent another €8.50 for a 33cl/11.64 oz. bottle of water.

Paris will never see my shadow again.

This fellow was a reveler at the Orihuela Medieval Festival back around 2014.  That was the year that Shan, John and Jordan toured it with us.  The wind was so strong that it picked up the blacksmith tent with all the hanging iron and blew it down the street.

This was at a restaurant in Calasparra, during a coach trip to the park and chapel in a mountain. 

Three guys relaxing on the waterfront in Lisbon, taken in 2015 at the start of my bike ride from the Atlantic to the Mediterranean.












Not thinking much about the lockdown, at least trying not to.  I've been going through old photos and reliving some of the great times past.

Lockdown in Spain-Day 32, A couple of quiet places

This was shot through the front window of Grace Neill's pub which was advertised as the oldest in Northern Ireland.  I was not able to quench my thirst there as it was "closed until further notice".  It was really quiet.


















        This was a small stream, a tributary of the Saco River in
Maine.  I love tiny overlooked spots like this.

This is a spot where I spent many, many memorable hours, both quiet and raucous.  The wind chime is one I made for "Howieland", my partner Howard Antworth's camp in Bowerbank, Maine.  It is on the less settled shore of Sebec lake, home of many togue and salmon we either lost or released over the years.  I took this photo the last time Howard and I were there together, my last hunting trip back around 2016.  Howard has passed on and I've given away my shotgun and sold the fishing gear.  I bet the togue still tinkles in the breeze, though.

Lockdown in Spain-Day 31, a challenge from Gareth Danks

I've been viewing a lot of videos and tutorials about  "street" photography, a genre which seems to have been my favorite over the years.  I've taken many more landscape and travel photos, shots of fish caught, game shot and the ensuing feasts, but what I enjoy most is capturing people as they live their lives. 

Anyway, one of the photographers I've been following, Gareth Danks, was challenged by a colleague of his to do a "lockdown" challenge.  This consists of three self portraits illustrating life in isolation,  one's reaction to it and a "quirky" selfie.  The challenge was then opened up to all, and the results were to be put on Instagram.  Even though I don't subscribe to Instagram, I thought the idea was interesting, so set out to do it. 

 This one is in my sanctuary, where I spend most of my waking lockdown hours other than those I spend climbing the stairs.  I found an old self portrait I painted, a composite of a scene in Andalusia and a shot taken of me in front of El Greco's home in Toledo.  I'm wearing the hat so that those who don't recognize the similarity make the connection anyway.

I shot this strange scene while cycling in Scotland a few years ago.  At first, I caught the figure out of the corner of my eye and almost crashed.  Good thing I didn't, as I had already done so and was cycling with three broken ribs, hoping to find an hospital or clinic soon.  As it turned out, I didn't get to one until about five days later, in Bangor, Northern Ireland.  Let me give you a hint; don't go to the Emergency Room in Bangor on a Saturday night.

Lockdown in Spain-Day 30, Homeless in Madrid

Homeless in Madrid

A Dancer in Paris

Lockdown in Spain-Day 29, bad news

Today we received word that a friend of ours who lives in Madrid has been in hospital for three weeks, struck by Covid-19.  She was "the girl next door" but actually living across the street.  After I graduated from high school and went to the US and did whatever for about 45 years, we re-connected when Isabel and I moved to Spain. 

The news of many thousands of deaths and millions of infections is horrible, but as long as the faces are anonymous, the horror and sadness is dulled.  When you can see a friend in the picture, it really hits home.  I don't believe in prayer, but I did. 

Lockdown in Spain-Day 28, Pine shadows

These were actually taken yesterday.  I watched tv for a change and didn't play with LightRoom. 
Today was spent painting, cooking and climbing stairs.  No real inspiration, worrying about family, thinking of the world situation,  trying not to get depressed.  Resignation about the extension and likelihood of another is setting in. 

Easter tomorrow, no comment, another day in lockdown.

Lockdown in Spain, Day 27-mountain vistas

Somewhere in the Pyrenees

Since my horizons are limited, I thought I'g go for an imaginary ride and revisit some mountains I've traveled.  Don't remember much about this except that the roads were steep and curvy.  

Between Tibi and Agost

This was taken early one morning during the Castellon tour in 2019.  Bruce Wallingford, Andy Bradwell and I had cycled from Algorfa up to Castellon and were on our way back when we wound up in Tibi.  We had been fortunate to meet a Spanish cyclist who corrected our route to avoid some serious mountain roads which would have landed us in the middle of nowhere in the dark.  The next morning we set out navigating by road sign (bad mistake), Google Maps (not much better) and dead reckoning.  We stopped for a breather after climbing over a fence which was meant to keep pedestrians and other animals off the highway we had just cycled down as we had no other choice.  Again, we relied on humint (human intelligence), asking a couple of locals who looked as though they knew where they were going.  They told us to follow them and were off.  We did and eventually shot down the long, beautiful descent into Agost after a short break to fix Andy's puncture.

Agost is somewhere off in the distance behind that tan field center-left, all downhill from here.  Andy's tire went flat just around the first curve where, if you look closely, you will see another cyclist.

Another day of seclusion is done.  Going over old photos was fun and I got to send a few out to friends who were on the adventures with me.  I did 101 flights of stairs today and am over a third of the way up Mt. Everest.

Lockdown in Spain-Day 26, scouring the yard

The Rule of Thirds?

I've been scouring the house and yard in an attempt to find interesting photos.  I did miss one of a bee which had landed on one of my lemon blossoms.  All I had was a wide angle lens and when I tried to maneuver to get him in the viewfinder,  he spooked.  So, I shot a group of four lemons on the same branch.  We had three such clusters this year, and if I quit spooking the pollinators, we might again next year.

Gang of Four

2019 was a good year for lemons.  I quit counting somewhere in the mid -30s.  We just don't use them that much other than with fish, tea, Bloody Marys, G&Ts and the occasional lemon merengue pie.  We're in the middle of blooming with about twenty fruit still on the tree.  Fortunately, that is the best way to store them, but they do tend to get pretty big and sometimes hollow.

Did an early run to the supermarket and found a long queue which must have started well before the doors were to open.  It was probably due to the long weekend closure coming up.  Still no yeast, but everything else I needed was in good supply.

I read today that PM Sanchez is likely to ask for a further extension of the lockdown, this one til 10 May.  I expected it, am not excited about it, but will comply when it is ordered.

Lockdown in Spain-Day 25, memories and visions

Madrid, early 2009

That seems such a long time ago.  Mingling with crowds, moving freely, having a great lunch in a restaurant.  I wonder when we can do that again. If we can do it again-what will be different?  Will self-service through an air-locked pass-through be the norm?  Will the wait staff be a robot with an electrified voice, understandable only after one pushes a button on its forehead indicating which language it should mumble at the customer?  Will the anonymous chef be many kilometers away in an hermetically isolated cavern, sealing his delicacies in plastic to be delivered by drones and reheated in microwaves in the "kitchen"?  

And the entertainment...will it be a facsimile of a human, up on a screen, as anonymous as the chef?  

And what will become of laughter?

Lockdown in Spain-Day 24, Idle paintbrushes

Tomorrow, no, today, I am actually going to touch a brush with the intent of putting paint on a support.  I have lots of ideas, lots of supports, lots of paint, just no spark.  Too many distractions, if you can believe it, maybe too many excuses.  I have the album of photos I want to compile, I have to set up the custom menus on the Fujis, gotta get to work on cataloguing and culling images going back to 2010 and in a few cases earlier.  I need to wander around and find abstract images, or any images from within the confines of our home.  I have my latest Doig book to continue, the book "Wicked Messenger" about Bob Dylan to finish and recipes to read and plan.

But, then, I have another twenty days before theoretical "liberation" so I don't need to sweat the small stuff.  In comparison to what's going on, it's all small stuff, isn't it.

Idle Lures

Lockdown in Spain-Day 23, Mt. Everest in my sights

It was my turn to go to the supermarket, usually a pleasant activity, but no longer.  I get tense, tend to hold my breath even though I wear a mask and my skin crawls.  It wasn't bad, though.  Most people wore masks and were provided with hand sanitizer and gloves at the door.  No great crowd as I had expected, it being Monday morning, but then it was just after opening time. 

I've set a goal to reach before the new "Libertad" day if it isn't pushed back again.  I did some research and found that Mt. Everest is 29,002 feet high. Considering that my steps are seven inches tall and there are seventeen steps in a flight, I have to do 70 flights a day for two more days to reach 1/3 of the height (975 flights).  Then eighteen days with 88 flights a day and I will have summited and then some just to make sure. 

If we get another extension, I think I'll look at how far the moon is...

Lockdown in Spain-Day 22, Epiphanies

I have lately tried to distance myself from anything involving the braying idiot child of president, as it isn’t healthy to let my life to be defined by disgust, hate and anger.  Unfortunately the subject keeps floating to the surface like untreated sewage.  I have spent too many moments checking the BBC or NYT at wake-up hoping to read the (in his own words) “beautiful and great” news that he has died.  BUT, today my attitude ascended to a more sensible and mature level.  I will explain after I put forth these other epiphanies.

The first is laughable, though entirely likely.  We’ve all seen the news that the fool refuses to wear a mask.  trump (lower case is not a typo), in his self-aggrandizing way has described himself as a “wartime president”.  So, if the draft-dodger does fall victim to the virus, he will be able to claim that he was wounded in “the war”.  He would then award himself a Purple Heart and some other medal for bravery, thereby diminishing the honor earned by those who really served this nation.

The second is just as trumpian, though much sadder.  If he were to become infected, he would then be treated by the government thereby “getting his fair share back in return for the taxes he (has allegedly) paid”.  Unfortunately, wasting precious resources on this execrable sociopath would deprive a normal person of an opportunity to be saved.  I would sooner use the resources  to treat a homeless veteran on the streets of New York or a child in a concentration camp for “illegals”.

To end this, which I hope is my final thought devoted to a cause of national shame and misfortune, I will explain my new attitude toward trump, his family and his accomplices.  No longer will I pray for his imminent demise.  I now hope that he and they live a long, long life of ignominy, deprivation and regret.  

My True Colors

Lockdown in Spain-Day 21, Another 14 days for good behavior

Nova Scotia Dory

Taken while exploring, down at the end of a long dirt road.  Have tried to paint it a couple of times, but can't seem to get the mood right.  Now that they have given us a fourteen day extension on the lockdown, I should get into a bleak mood and be able to put it on canvas.

Erpingham, England 2010

I love golden wheat fields and every time I can I stop and capture images.  I've done this from Quebec, Canada to Aroostook County, Maine, Erpingham and Andalusia, Spain.  This rendition has lost some of its brilliance in the posting here, but I'm too tired to go back and re-work it to compensate.  Gotta save some energy for the big Day 22, tomorrow.

Lockdown in Spain-Day 20, An Abstract day?

Brown

Brown is the color of the bottles I buy.  I just realized that today, having bought this particular red for months.  Funny how the little things gain importance as the big things recede into meaninglessness.  Who cares whether trump lives or dies?  The damage he has done will live on after him-kinda like Julius Caesar.  What does it matter if it rains or the skies are blue?  We are limited to these few square meters unless we take out the garbage or go buy groceries.  The change in weather means that every trip might be different, novel...memorable?  Ten thousand people died of the virus today.  So many have died in the last months, it no longer seems a lot.  Nobody I know personally has died, I have not seen bodies in the street, I have not smelled decaying flesh.  It all seems so remote; not that I want it to hit me in the face.  But the wine I drink comes out of brown bottles!  

Vanessa B. told me that IT was getting to me.  It is.  I guess what bothers me most is the inability to move, wander, the loss of freedom of movement.  Confinement in my home is far superior to that in a jail cell.  How would I know?  I spent about sixteen hours in custody of the City and County of Honolulu back in 1965.  I did jail time, in a real cell with a smelly mattress, clammy walls and floor, steel bars and lousy food.  In the cell to my right was a guy who was telling nobody and everybody why and how he killed his wife.  On my left was a fellow who retched and puked all night.  Entertainment.  I knew that I would be arraigned and adjudicated the next morning.  It wasn't as bad as this.  There was an end in sight.  Release or a period of confinement were definite; I could handle either, as long as I knew. 

We have nominally eight more days to go.  I would not bet a dime that the confinement period will not be extended.  Don't get me wrong.  I think it would be necessary and the right thing to do for society, but that doesn't make it any easier.  Who said Limbo wasn't so bad?  

Maybe I should learn to play the guitar...

Lockdown in Spain-Day 19, Rain, Clouds, Rain

Standing Wave on Calle San Vicente Ferrer

So, I had trash and recycling duty last night, my latest foray into the deserted world of Covid.  Quite a bit of water running down the street and I caught this standing wave thrown up by the entrance to our driveway, using the new 23mm lens.  Hated to take it out in the rain, but it would serve no purpose at home staying dry.  If you got it-use it!  That's my new philosophy.  So, I am going to break out the remnants of the case of Juan Gil Tempranillo I bought in Jumilla a few years ago.  I had forgotten about it hidden away in a cooler in the garage until I started moving stuff around to make room for the supplies we have stockpiled in expectation of shortages.  No! we don't have an obscene amount of toilet paper, just two packs.  But, we do have a lot of Hacendado Fabada Asturiana.  That is our favorite, having tried numerous brands, including "gourmet" offerings which cost five times as much.  We did a side-by-side taste test several years ago and were quite surprised.  I have had the dish in an Asturian restaurant in Madrid, one which is highly rated, and still prefer the canned offering from Mercadona.  We plan, whenever this Covid crap is over, to go to Asturias and spend some time exploring the culinary delights.  I would like to be pleasantly surprised, but don't expect it.

Abstract Project #1

As a diversion and a way to fend off frustration with having all this cool equipment and nowhere to go and photograph, I have set myself a project of finding abstract subjects right at home.  This is the first.  G'night...

Lockdown in Spain-Day 18: Two deaths, sixty-five years apart

With death all about; on the tv news constantly, online if one doesn't studiously avoid it, sirens passing by periodically and rarely masked people seen on streets, one death has stood out in eighteen days.  I don't mean to dismiss the thousands of lives torn from gasping bodies or ignore the great or important people the world has lost, nor forget the nobodies who will hardly be missed.  The appalling enormity of the situation seems oddly remote to me having been isolated, for the most part, off a main street, down a private driveway and in a four unit building inhabited by neighbors with whom we won't talk because they are ignorant; others who don't associate with  us because we're foreigners and the last with whom we have nothing in common other than isolation.  It seems that tragedy is becoming the norm, and while I pray that it stays away from me and mine, I don't want to lose what little empathy I have left after my years "on the job". 

Could that be why I was moved so by the discovery of this baby sparrow on our garden table this morning?  We have been feeding the adults for some time now and they have become sort of pets, resting in the lemon or olive trees and using the birdbath I cobbled together. How it got there is a mystery to me.  There are no nests directly above, the closest building being about five meters away, and it could not have jumped or flown there.  Maybe a predator, such as a cowbird which we have in Maine, pulled it from its nest.  Do adult birds ferry their young around as mother cats do with kittens?

The discovery brought back a memory from San Francisco sixty-five years ago.  I was not quite eight, it being spring and just past hatching time.  I was dawdling down Guerrero Street trying to lengthen the walk home after school when I found a lightly feathered  chick, dead, on the sidewalk.  I scratched a grave for it at the base of a tree, fashioned a cross out of a couple of sticks, and probably said some sort of farewell.  The sticks were gone the next time I passed, but the location, from then on, was a sort of shrine to me. 

I buried this chick under the figurine of Ho Tai (Day 11) in the little shrine under my olive tree.

Lockdown in Spain-Day 17: Memories of Maine

View From Meyers Landing, Flagstaff Lake

Flagstaff Lake is my favorite place on earth.  I used to go there a couple of times each year, sometimes for just a night and at others for up to ten days.  On many occasions I would not see another person for the whole time I was tucked away in a remote corner of the lake.  Solitude!

Quiet Morning

It would not be unusual to be canoeing along in a mist and drift up on a moose feeding, or spook a deer or two who were taking a morning drink.  Bear were not seen as frequently, and usually from a good distance, but that didn't mean that there weren't any hiding nearby.  Fishing was fantastic.  I never failed to catch (and release) more fish than would make a good meal.  Although I had been told of a deep salmon "hole" by an old timer who lived there all his life, I never caught one.  I guess I never found the deep hole.  Trout evaded me as well, but Chain Pickerel, the freshwater equivalent of Barracuda, were plentiful.  I've caught them as large as 30 inches and weighing about five pounds; a real handful on light tackle.  I hope to make one last trip there next time I go back to the US, if that ever happens.

Monhegan Mooring

Monhegan is another spot on my favorites list even though I've only been there once.  I had to take a trip there a couple of years ago to see the spot that inspired so many famous artists and perhaps pick up a little inspiration myself.  It didn't let me down and I have lots of "reference" photos to use whenever the urge strikes.

No comment on the lockdown or pandemic.  I'm sick of hearing and reading about it and would rather stick to pleasant topics.  Hasta pronto...

Lockdown in Spain-Day 16: Fujifilm Mission Creep

The stable, pre-Torino

Nick and I had planned a trip to Torino in the Piedmont, northern Italy for some time.  We were going over with our wives and visit our cousin Shelly and her husband Gian Pierro.  The plan was to stay in Torino for a few days then travel by train to Alba and spend a week photographing, wine-sampling, eating and did I mention taking photos?  

After assessing my stock of camera equipment (above), I decided they wouldn't fit the bill.  They would work, but for the type of photography I like to do, they were not suitable.  The Canon G-11 on the left is a great travel camera I bought in 2010, but it does not reach out and "touch them".  I found that the zoom was not up to what I wanted to be able to do on occasion.  

So, around 2015 I bought the Nikon 1V2, a new system introduced by Nikon a couple of years earlier.  With it I bought a zoom lens which suited my needs and was very happy with it...until the zoom croaked in the middle of a trip to Cadiz, Huelva, Caceres and other great cities in Spain.  I did some research and found that the system had been discontinued recently and that the main cause was that Nikon had floated badly engineered and produced lenses to go with the body as a "trial balloon" for another system.  I had used Nikon cameras since the early seventies with absolute confidence and no mechanical problems ever.  With the demise of film photography, I went back to Canon SLRs and sold my trusty film Nikons with sorrow.
Not liking or understanding digital, I gave away the remaining Canon and bought an HP point and shoot which I used until the Spanish Adventure started and I bought the G-11. 
When I started doing long-distance bike touring, the need for an all-weather camera became evident and I bought the Fujifilm Fine Pix XP-50, a water and shock proof camera.  It has served me well on bikes, in kayaks and all sorts of outdoor activities.
Back to the Nikon 1V2.  The body was still fully functional and I really like the camera, so I gave in to a bright idea.  I would buy a normal (50mm) Nikon F-mount lens and using an adaptor ring, mate it to the 1V2.  It would operate only in the manual mode, but I could still use TTL metering.  Once it was set up, the gear worked perfectly...except that I was stuck with about a 90 mm (35mm equivalent) lens.  Good for portrait shots, but little else.
These would not do for the trip to Italy.

Enter the Fujifilm stable

Being a dinosaur, I like the "retro" look in pretty much everything.  I still wear a Burberry raincoat which is pushing forty years.  My favorite luggage is leather and my blue jeans don't have ripped knees.  Therefore, when I saw the Fujifilm X-Pro2 for the first time, I knew I had to own it.  Not only did it look like a rangefinder, but it was a highly respected, mirrorless, almost state-of-the-art "street" camera.  

My downfall was ordering it with the normal lens.  I had misgivings about that from the start, but I wanted to go back to basics and start again.  This was September '19.  By November I had the 18-135 Zoom so I could reach out.  This would halve been fine, but the setup was big, heavy and not inconspicuous; a quality I wanted for street photography.  Enter the X-E3, a "little brother" to the X-Pro2 which could use the same lenses.  I figured that since I had a loose 35mm lens which had come with the X-Pro, I could mount it on the X-E3.  It would do, but was still fairly bulky and not wide enough.  That led me to the 27mm "pancake" lens for the X-E3 to shed some bulk.  That it did, but it still wasn't wide enough, giving me the 35mm equivalent of a 41mm lens-too close to normal.  Finally, I settled for the 23mm or an equivalent to a 35mm in 24x36 format.  Enough, already!  Two new bodies, four lenses, a new tripod (I gave away two when I left the US), new strap system, filters and lens hoods, a manual to explain everything I ever needed to know and a book on LightRoom, a post-processing system similar to Photoshop.  Oh, did I mention the camera bags?  I bought one which was perfect, held everything, protected it all and looked like a camera bag-Duuuuhhhh?  So I bought a leather rucksack for an obscene price and a universal insert to protect the two cameras and one lens.  

Then Covid-19 happened and I'm locked down at home.  All dressed up and nowhere to go...