Yesterday's post is a broader view of what you would see from the Safari Endeavor, the Un-Cruise ship we lived on for our week in Alaska. Today's post shows what you might see if you were lucky enough to move into the apparently dense forest of spruce trees. This photo was not taken on this neat little island but it wasn't taken far from this spot.
Fall in moving in to our part of the world but, as you can see, it arrives even earlier in Alaska, given that this photo was taken in late August. If I paid more attention to our guides and less to my photography, I could tell you the name of this plant, which is apparently one to be avoided because of its serrated leaves. But it's looking pretty photogenic here.
Canon 5DIII 1/125s f/4.5 ISO400 100mm
[DKB url="" text="" title="" type="" style="" color="" height="" width="" opennewwindow="" nofollow=""]

For a person who thrives on warm weather and sunshine, June is an important month. The grass is pretty green by now, the days are incredibly long and there is the promise of summer.
The last time I had pondered my favorite little stone bird,
I took several photos of my wife's pink tulips. One was posted yesterday, as you may have noticed. And today I post another version. This one adopts an unusual point of view and but I remove the color. There is something a bit perverse about taking color away from a scene but black and white photographs require/allow us to see things that may be lost in the color versions. Anyway, this one has a bit of a eerie feel to it, if you ask me. But for now, I kind of like it.
I am hung up on flowers, obviously. And I am also once again compelled to comment on the power of the photographer's point of view. The conventional view of flower is from the side and from a short distance. The tulip becomes something quite different when you view it from the top at close range.
Well, here they are: my neighbor's purples tulips Water droplets from morning dew or from a spray bottle? I'll never tell.
I call this post "Finally!" because after what seems like and endless winter and cold spring, it finally feels like summer. And my wife's daffodils are celebrating the occasion by blooming.
If you were lured to this post because you thought you were going to see a beautiful church, I apologize. But there is something dome-like in these trees that arch over the snow-covered ground and that's what inspired today's title


