by aramatzne@gmail.com | 19 Feb 2024 | Roads Taken
…to a bookstore near you
Timber Press will release Best Little Book of Birds: Coastal Washington in June. Look for it at your favorite local bookstore – and if you can’t find it there because, say, you live in Oklahoma, I recommend ordering it directly from Timber Press (available for preordering, too) or from Powell’s Books.
WooHoo!
Gratitude to the amazing photographers Steve Lenz, Greg Smith, and Matt Vann and to the Timber Press team of editors, photo editors, layout and design people, and the whole crew that worked behind the cover, unseen and unnamed. Thank you!
by aramatzne@gmail.com | 31 Dec 2023 | Roads Taken
2023: The year in review
This year’s photos cross landscapes and time, the eternal and ephemeral. From the spiraling mazes of Southwest canyons to the glowing night sky of the Arctic and a handful of people in between, 2023 was about scale.
May 2024 flow easily and provide expanded horizons.
Thanks for tagging along. xoxo T
by aramatzne@gmail.com | 27 Nov 2023 | Roads Taken
Winding down
My time in Svalbard is rapidly slipping away. The dark is comforting, always there, no matter the hour or weather. There is no need to rush to catch the last bit of the day before sunset. I draw the curtains against street lights.
The moon is back. It rose above the horizon the other day, almost full. It fills the clouds, and the mountains glow snowy bright, rivaled only by Mine 7’s reflected light.
I am ridiculously grateful for a smartphone smart enough to capture the dark. My night photography camera skills are lacking, as is a tripod.
by aramatzne@gmail.com | 30 Oct 2023 | Roads Taken
Longyearbyen
Photos of houses and buildings that aren’t falling into the ground are not my specialty, but it seems incomplete to give the impression that there are no people or infrastructure in Svalbard. This is a company town transitioning into a tourist destination. The coal industry is being consciously closed as the government introduces its green sustainability agenda and levies the draw of the north for those who recognize its rapid decline.
The town is nestled in a valley (read never gets sun even when the sun never sets). The north end of town touches the fjord. To the east and west are high plateaus that climb straight from town, level out, and hold the town between their arms. Uphill, to the south, is a glacier. This confuses me almost daily. I expect glaciers to the north, and going south always feels like downhill, according to Ents, so this is a double cross of my wiring.
Housing is mostly company-owned, apartments and row houses in bright colors are nestled below the avalanche fences on the east side of town and the now-derelict coal shuttle structures. Across town and the river, the church takes the high ground. Although it, too, is in a high-risk avalanche zone, no fence has been built above the church yet. Walking into town from the south, you walk toward the fjord, toward another mountain through the ubiquitous street lights – my arch nemesis the world ’round.
The tradition in town is to take off your shoes and hang up your coat when entering many public places, including the library, where I often work. Like kids everywhere, the after-school crowd rarely remembers the “hang up your coat” part. It makes me laugh every day.
by aramatzne@gmail.com | 18 Sep 2023 | Roads Taken
A study in impermanence
I am endlessly fascinated by ice, water, and clouds. Eternally changing shape and form – solid, liquid, gas, we can see it transform in real time.
Where would we be without it?
by aramatzne@gmail.com | 4 Sep 2023 | Roads Taken
Cocktail hour under the red sails
The red sails are a tourist gimmick, but the effect is stunning when fog slides around the icebergs creating a shroud of mystery.
The football pitch
Local kids practice their soccer moves on the Astroturf while Disko Bay icebergs, staunch supporters, look on.
Why it’s called ‘Greenland’
Oddly, it’s not called Greenland because of the intensely lush vegetation or the neon mosses of Disko Island. Rather, it was named Greenland as a ruse to encourage Viking settlement. Like many places, it had a name before it was ‘discovered’ by Europeans. The original name reflects the native connection to the land; Kallaalit Nunaat means “land of the people.” From the rich mosses to the columnar basalt and city block-sized icebergs, Greenland is stunning.
