Today, I'll be succinct.

My photo of the week is an old one, and I post it because it's a moment of transcendent beauty that helps commemorate a change in my life.

In April 2018, I took the train between Seattle and Vancouver. As I drifted in and out of consciousness, I did see a lot of beautiful landscapes out the window.

This photo is one of them, particularly stark because this is not a black and white photo. This reflects the landscape as I saw it with my own eyes.

I post this today, because I'm embarking on a new journey of my own, one which will lead me to the Pacific Northwest.

(Pointless EXIF data after the break, but nothing else.)

Humble milkweed.

A plant so named, because if you break its stem, it will produce a milky syrup. Incidentally, that "milk" is poisonous to humans.

I really think it's a cool plant.

In my last photo of the week post, I did my best to outline some of the struggles of wildlife photography, particularly when the subject is skittish or fast-moving.

This particular subject was neither.

It all started out so innocently.

Out of the blue, someone messaged me to ask I was planning to attend next week's workshop in Berlin.

I had no such plans. I never had any such plans.

On the occasions when I had asked, management did not think there was enough value in sending me to Berlin to meet with my team's counterparts there. However, shortly after receiving that innocent message, I also recieved a new manager.

I sat in a "hand-off" meeting between my new manager and my previous manager. My old manager probably said something like, "we should make sure we give Steve any resources and opportunities that would be useful to his career growth."

I saw my opening and said, "I heard there's this workshop in Berlin next week, to go over [redacted]..."

Believe me, when I got approval, I did not hesitate to book my flight and accomodation.

It was only later that the headaches started...

This is part of a new series of posts describing photos I've taken. They should be less long-winded than some of the other content.

Often times, when I photograph animals I end up following some real great processes, like:

1. Oh shit! Is it in the frame.
2. Oh, maybe I should zoom in.
3. Hang on... is this in focus?
4. Oh hey, I can probably take a nice picture.

Most of the time the time I can't even get to step one before the animal has scurried away. And, I mean I don't blame the animals for being afraid of humans. I'm afraid of humans.

But, sometimes it feels like I can't catch a break.