The Narrative Image

A sliver of impotent moon puttered so peripherally on a path near the southern horizon that normally shy stars blazed – emboldened - as they spun and twirled in their 14 billion year old cosmic dance - not even tired yet. A waxing crescent moon didn’t present much of an impediment to seeing the Milky Way stretching across the apparent dome of the sky. I affixed my camera to the tripod and set it up for a long exposure only to find that I hadn’t brought my remote shutter release. To get an exposure longer than 30 seconds, I’d either have to hold the shutter with my finger (which kind of defeats the purpose) or get creative with band aids and cardboard. I managed to get this four minute exposure before the band-aids unstuck themselves. * * * Like anecdotal stories of old time buffalo herds covering the plains, Winnebagos so numerous they can’t be counted inundate the Columbia Gorge – fleeing from smoke filled, sweaty cities. It is almost as if it were the last day to camp… ...

When I compare myself to Monkey-cam, the most striking difference I notice is that I seldom leave the house without pants. But the second most striking difference is a relative absence of bodily monkey-fur. One line of thought suggests that in evolutionary terms, when we moved from sheltered forests to exposed African savannahs, we may have lost our fur as an adaptation to aid in heat regulation But another line of thought entertains the notion that we very nearly returned to the sea like our mammal brethren – whales and dolphins – during some kind of aquatic ape stage. This would explain also why we cry salty tears and have a mostly dormant diving reflex – and also why I resemble Shamu when I try on wetsuits. Maybe it also explains why the ocean is such a big vacation destination. Maybe in a way, going to the ocean is like going home. Perhaps ancestral memories stir in the corridors of our subconscious and whisper of fantastic seafood smorgasbords... ... a magical place where we c...