One of the highlights of a visit to the famous Public Market in downtown Seattle is Pike Place Fish Market, where « fish throwing » is the method for sending customer’s picks from the front display to the cashier. Notice the King Salmon in mid-air...

[As always, click to enlarge]

Nine days might be enough to visit le Louvre, to explore a city or to write a poem. It just doesn’t do the Northwest justice. We barely scratched the surface, we ricochet-ed (sic) like stones on water from gorgeous forests to beautiful cities. 1700 miles driven, 500 pictures taken. Washington and Oregon are awesome, but Vancouver might have stolen our hearts. Here are a few glimpses of the area. The new gallery will be up and running shortly with 50 more.

If I think really hard, I guess I can remember being called a geek a few times for spending entire nights at the computer, fine-tuning little details that will never matter to anybody else but me. But the truth is, the only thing I know for sure is that I know next to nothing. So fine-tuning this blog has been an ongoing project for months, and now thanks to Serendipity’s mighty Garvin, a new issue was just resolved and I am a tiny bit wiser. Such a tiny bit.

Any way, I’m leaving tomorrow morning for the West Coast, full of expectations and loaded with curiosity. The camera is charged, memory cards erased, tripod packed and the shutter is itching... Let’s go hunting!

To be continued...

It was about time! I’ve finally decided to address the look and feel of the galleries, a task that I had been putting off for too long...

As of now, the Dust and Red Rocks, Below the Surface, Growing Wings and Traveling Colors galleries have been completely re-designed and augmented. Then I created a new gallery called Lake Superior with a collection of pictures that appeared here in the blog.

As soon as I come back from the West Coast, towards the end of the month, there should again be a new gallery and many more photos.

Who never looked up at the clouds as a kid and imagined seeing the moving shapes of dragons and monsters? Tom caught a glimpse of a dragon’s antithesis. Have a look!

Ditto...

It must be a cataclysm! I suddenly wake up at the terrifying clash of thunder and the roaring furry of a thousand galloping horses right above my head.

But then the blurry haze of sleep thins out and I am forced to retrofit the glamour of my dreams with a grim reality. The thunder was simply caused by an exploding set of Star Wars Lego™and the herd of horses was in fact one of cats. Three of them.

I look around confused. It’s still pitch black in here. It must be night time. Of course; cats only play at night when they can actually wake you up. Then they sleep all day.

So I fumble out of bed in a catacomb-like darkness, feel my way up some stairs and aim for the fridge. Something cold to drink and I’ll go right back to sleep.

A brief but sharp shriek makes me jump back in shock. I stepped on something. I was furry and warm. How could a cat manage to go from epic games across the room to lying in the middle of the stairs in such a short time?

I pour myself a glass of juice, chug it down, pour another one, drink half of it and put it down on the kitchen counter to close the fridge. A shadow jumps up behind me, lands on the countertop and knocks the glass down. Thank god it was plastic. The shadow flees as fast as it came, equally eager to avoid the cataract of juice and my unforgiving wrath.

But I’m wide awake now and decide to step outside to have a look at the stars. I should know better. As I slide the mosquito screen open, a shape slips between my legs and escapes out, while another bumps into me after a slight miscalculation.

Chasing a black cat on a dark night in a garden with no lights is a little depressing. It makes one ponder a futile existence in a meaningless void we call universe…

Eventually, the black cat is trapped and rushed back to the sliding door, which once opened lets out another shadow. This kitchen expedition is turning out to be a catastrophe. I catapult the first offender inside, run around the pool a few times to catch the second, negotiate my re-entry, and a great wave of relief surges over me. I didn’t even think of looking at the stars, but going back to bed will be my catharsis.

When I get back to my room, I sneak in, close the door carefully, smiling at myself with satisfaction, and collapse brutally on the bed without even turning the lights on.

This time, we both shriek. Me and the third cat, that is.