Please Step Away From the Tripod!

Yesterday I learned that taking photos from a public sidewalk is grounds for interrogation from an armed law enforcement officer.  The cop actually said, “Sir please step away from the tripod!”.  He had his hand on his holster so I complied.

Gathering Storm

This is a photo of the leading edge of a low pressure system taken during sunrise high above Mojave Desert in Southeastern California.  The view is Northeast.  It was a rare rainy day in Los Angeles, and there was snow in the mountains of California.  This low pressure system was a typical winter storm.  As it crossed the desert it weakened, but as it moved east it eventually tapped into moisture from the Gulf of Mexico and arctic air from the great plains.  Two days after this photo was taken this same storm was spawning tornadoes in the southeastern United States and snow in the Midwest.

Flying High Again

35,000 feet above Northeastern Utah we pass underneath  a westbound Southwest  Airlines 737.  It’s cold on the other side of the window, -50 degrees C.  The earth’s atmosphere is a rather thin blanket against the dark void of space.  The storm that proceeded this arctic air painted a wide brushstroke of snow from the Sierra Nevada Mountains in California all the way to Upstate New York.

This is the Sand Hills region of Nebraska the day after the blizzard.

My technical problems have been solved.  I should be posting again regularly.  With any luck this blog will once again be as successful and bloated as Ozzy Osbourne circa 1982

Happy Halloween

Maria takes our size small Cat in the Hat trick-or-treating in Wisconsin Rapids.

Uncle Joe is certain he has one of the best costumes in Wisconsin Rapids.  It only cost $5 and took only five seconds to don.

A Day in My Life

Here is where I start my long journey.  This is the bus stop at 76th and Hampton on the north side of Milwaukee, Wisconsin.   It’s Sunday morning — 5:20 am.  The dark blob leaning against the shelter is my rolling suitcase.  I am on my way to work in New York City.  I’m an airline pilot.  I am scheduled to fly from New York to Los Angeles at 5:00 pm.  If I want to make it to work on time and not delay 150 people I have to leave my house in Milwaukee well before sunrise.

The bus ride from my neighborhood to the airport takes over an hour and requires one cold and windy predawn transfer in downtown Milwaukee.  I can’t complain.  Everyone who I run into while riding the bus across Milwaukee this early on a Sunday Morning has a worse day ahead of them (or behind them depending on their shift) than I do.

I have arrived at Milwaukee’s Mitchel Field.  That’s the control tower and the brand new parking garage.   I have to hustle inside and hope I can get on a flight to New York.  Airline employees fly for free, but if there are no seats available you don’t get on.  Getting to work can be nerve-racking.   Most of my commutes work out without a hitch, but if there is any bad weather in New York or a canceled flight the pressure quickly mounts.

Guess what?  I made it to New York La Guardia.  Too bad my trip starts at JFK.   Now I have to get on another bus.  I hope there isn’t any traffic on the Van Wyck.

I can relax now.   I’ve made it to Kennedy International with three hours to spare.  There is plenty of time to eat some delicious Panda Express and guzzle a few cups of coffee before we depart.

Here we six hours later dodging thunderstorms over the front range of the Rocky Mountains.

With the sun setting my day is almost over.   This is our top of descent into the Los Angels basin.   In the lower left corner of the frame you can see Big Bear Lake.   The Santa Monica Mountains can be seen  just right of center below the horizon line.  In one more hour I’ll be buying a burrito at the Taco truck parked behind the LAX Westin. I have no photos of that — fear of robbery.