Archive for the ‘Writing’ Category

100 Views of the Golden Gate

Thursday, July 3rd, 2008

Here’s the copy from the publisher’s to-the-book-trade postcard advertising my new book, 100 Views of the Golden Gate.

The Golden Gate as you’ve never seen it before…Now available, 100 Views of the Golden Gate by Harold Davis from Wilderness Press.

100 Views

With a bow to the Japanese artist Katsushika Hokusai (1760-1849) whose woodblock series 100 Views of Mt. Fuji celebrates Japan’s iconic mountain, Bay Area native Harold Davis has created a collection of over 100 striking digital photographs of the Golden Gate—the strait that connects the San Francisco Bay to the Pacific Ocean and the Bridge itself—as well as back stories for each photo.

Author of several photography books, Harold Davis is a frequent speaker on digital techniques at Bay Area venues, ranging from Book Passage to MacWorld.

100 Views of the Golden Gate by Harold Davis: $30 * 1st edition * hardcover * full-color * 176 pages * 9 1/2 X 10 * ISBN 978-0-89997-447-7

Harold’s Yosemite Book Is Here

Wednesday, February 13th, 2008

My book, The Photographers Guide to Yosemite & the High Sierra, is now in stock and shipping from Amazon.

The Photographer's Guide to Yosemite & the High Sierra

From the back cover: The scenic wonders of Yosemite and the mountains that surround it—the high Sierra—attract visitors from around the world. If you are planning to visit Yosemite with your camera, photography will be important part of your trip to the area that John Muir called “the greatest temple” in the world. The Photographer’s Guide to Yosemite and the Sierras provides insider information about exactly how to find the most scenic vistas in Yosemite and the Sierras, and how to go about taking great photos once you are there. You’ll learn about weather, photography and phases of the sun and the moon, and the best times of year to visit and photograph specific attractions. You’ll find out about the logistics of visiting Yosemite and the Sierras off-season—and discover the stunning photographic payoffs that can reward off-season travel.

Even if you plan to travel no further than your armchair (beside a roaring fireplace) you’ll enjoy the luscious photography that fills The Photographer’s Guide to Yosemite and the Sierras. Yosemite is iconic in the history of photography and The Photographer’s Guide to Yosemite and the Sierras presents an all new, digital way of seeing Yosemite.

Trifecta!

Thursday, January 24th, 2008

I’m really excited to have three photography books coming out in the next few months. These are very different books. The commonality is that each of the three books is illustrated with my photos, and that I’ve written the text as well.

Here’s a quick description of my books, along with the book covers. In the due fullness of time, I’ll be blogging a bit more about each title, as well as showing some excerpts. By the way, the titles are available for pre-order on Amazon (hint, hint!).

100 Views of the Golden Gate is a “coffee table” book published by Wilderness Press that portrays the secular, serene, and spiritual grandeur of the Golden Gate, following the path laid down by the great Japanese artist Hokusai, who wrote about Mount Fuji, “Each view is different, and each view expresses a lifetime.”

Light & Exposure for Digital Photographers published by O’Reilly Media is an illustrated technique book that shows the essential light and exposure principles needed to take great photographs.

The Photographer’s Guide to Yosemite & the High Sierra is published by Countryman and distributed by WW Norton. It is part travel guide for photographers, and part a display of photos of the grandeur of Yosemite.

Myths, Metaphors, and Digital Photography

Friday, June 22nd, 2007

If you grant my premise that digital photography is an entirely new medium of expression, then you have to wonder about the prevalence of metaphors that use the techniques of analog photography. In Photoshop, we use the Dodge and Burn tools. We “cross process” using Nik’s excellent library of Photoshop filters (among other digital “cross processing” techniques). We produce versions of our images from our RAW captures that are “like the prints made from film negatives.” The myths and metaphors imported from film are useful shared vocabulary, but none of these analog-to-digital metaphors are really quite right.

Wood between the Worlds

View this image larger. Read the back story featuring this image.

A metaphor is an implicit comparison of one thing to something else: “my love is a red, red rose”. A simile, of course, is a kind of metaphor that makes the comparison explicit using “like” or “as”: “my love is as beautiful as a red, red rose.”

Confusion occurs when metaphors (or similes) are confused with facts. In no way are the metaphors of analog photography exactly analagous to the digital concepts and techniques described.

The Photoshop Dodge and Burn tools operate on pixels, not on emulsion-coated paper, and are not even the best way to achieve the results of lightening or darkening areas of an image. (You are much better off using selective layer masking, the Paintbrush tool, and blending modes to achieve this result.)

In analog terms, “cross processing” meant dunking film or paper in chemistry that was not intended. Nik carries this metaphor quite a distance. Its cross-process filters let you choose either C41 to E6, or E6 to C41 (using the names for Kodacolor and Ektachrome processing). You can also fine tune these filters in a variety of ways. But obviously you are not cross processing. At best, you have simulated cross processing with these Photoshop filters.

It’s true that I create many versions of my photos starting with a single RAW capture. For example, I might produce an RGB version for screen display, a CMYK version for publication, a sized CMYK version for running through my RIP software and making a physical print, a JPEG version for web display, and a light JPEG version that looks good on Flickr (Flickr runs a filter that makes some images look artificially darker), and so on. But these pixel-to-pixel conversions don’t really compare to the process of analog print making except in the sense that you are changing one thing (the negative or RAW capture) into another (the print or the converted file). Print making still requires output on paper.

So what’s to make of all this? Metaphors are good because they help communicate tough concepts. But they can also shackle us to think in a manner that doesn’t apply to new technologies and situations. Is there a good reason that new-fangled digital SLRs look pretty much like old-fashioned analog SLRs, or is this form-factor just what we are used to, and an example of metaphor gone awry? What will the digital generation that comes of age without understanding the analog terminology do with these dubious metaphors, and where will they go?

Night Shore 2

View this image larger. Read the back story featuring this image.

Myths can be something that is widely believed, but false. A myth can also be an important legend about how something was created. When myth is used in the second sense, the myth can even be true (at least in part). Myths are stories, and they are also metaphors.

The myths of analog photography include the patience required to coat fragile glass plates with emulsion, and to make exposures of long duration under field conditions. Ansel Adams is said to have carted his view camera up and down the Sierras on the back of a mule. These are stories of a forgotten world, and it’s hard to even remember the endurance it required to be a serious photographer.

When the last master silver halide print has been made, what myths will digital photographers have to compare with the heroic traditions of analog photography? Will the new mythology be about photography, or about processing pixels?

By learning to see the world digitally, by making long night exposures from a cliff high above the ocean, by experimenting with different ways to achieve digital capture and to process the captures, I like to think I am contributing to the new mythology of digital.

Digital Night Website

Thursday, June 14th, 2007

It all started when I pointed my digital camera into the void of night and was surprised by the results. In apparent darkness, there’s plenty of “light” we cannot see that is picked up by digital sensors. The digital night landscape is very colorful indeed. Since this discovery, I have haunted dark and wild landscapes at night…[Read more].

My new website, Digital Night by Harold Davis, www.digitalnight.us, features photographs taken in the night. I also write about the techniques and human aspects of digital night photography.

Sausalito at Twilight

Read the back story featuring this image.

Living Photography

Thursday, May 3rd, 2007

A Personal Statement about My Workshop

For me, photography is life and life is photography. You can’t separate who you are from the photos you make. Every good photo shows something of the spirit and soul of its creator.

It’s called digital photography for a reason. Digital photography is a new medium. The craft of digital photography combines the craft of photography with the discipline of software. Digital photographers can spend more time with the computer than with cameras. And digital cameras are special-purpose computers with a lens and a scanner attached.

A pixel is but a pixel: meaning that if the final digital image works it doesn’t matter how we get there. A digital image can be created using one part digital capture and one part digital painting in Photoshop.

My workshop Digital Workflow: From the Field to Flickr explains these aspects of the technical craft of digital photography in the context of my work. But the workshop is not about me as much as it is about the participants in the workshop, who’ll each leave the workshop with their own personalized digital workflow.

Technique without soul and vision is nothing, so my real goal in my workshop is to help each participant understand what photography means in their own life. We’ll explore photography together as a journey, not a destination, and accept a happy, busy, creative, and fun week together as a quest. This is a visual, philosophic, and sentimental quest. The results may not be what you expect, but I can guarantee adventures along the way.

Related links: Digital Workflow: From the Field to Flickr from July 7-14 at the Santa Fe Workshops; Golden Wonder; My Santa Fe Photo Workshop.

Photography is Poetry

Thursday, March 29th, 2007

Photography is poetry. A movie is a story, but a photograph is a poem.

Robert Frost is not ee cumming is not Andrew Marvell. Just so: Henri Cartier-Bresson isn’t Ansel Adams or Galen Rowell.

What kind of poem is my photograph of dawn reflected in the Merced River in Yosemite Valley’s winter?

Portrait of the Artist

Tuesday, October 24th, 2006

An art student named Melissa had to research an artist for a school assignment, and she chose me. Of course, I am wildly flattered! But also I think that the resulting Q&A might be of interest to readers of my blog.

Q: Just tell me about you.

A: I live in Berkeley, California with my wife Phyllis and three young sons Julian, Nicky, and Mathew. I like to photograph, garden, and hike. I have written more than twenty books on a wide variety of topics. In addition to photographer and writer, I have been (in no particular order), a lawyer, painter, software engineer, enterprise consultant, technology company executive, and publisher.

Q: How did you got started?

A: I had cameras when I was a kid, starting with a Kodak “box” camera. Photography was always a big deal for me. I remember going to a photography exhibit at the Museum of Modern Art when I was twelve or thirteen and being blown away. Particularly Ansel Adams’s “Moonrise over Hernandez, New Mexico” did it for me, that and Monet’s water lilies, so I’ve always been looking at both painting and photography, and I’m quite conscious of the historical context of photography today.

Q: Why do you shoot the pictures you shoot?

A: I worked as a professional photographer in New York City for ten years doing all kinds of assignments. I learned to make my own color prints the chemical way. I hung from a helicopter taking photos of the top of the World Trade Towers, and I was published, collected, and exhibited widely.

Then I got bored with it and walked away. For years I didn’t touch a camera. When I thought about it, which wasn’t often, I didn’t think I would ever take another photo, except maybe of the kids.

Then I got commissioned to write a book about digital photography. I said, “Sure, I can do this, I know photography.” But you can’t really write about something without practicing it, so I went out and bought a digital SLR. I got hooked again.

Sometimes I feel like Rip Van Winkle. I went to sleep, and served my time as a line officer slash drone in the armies of the technology industries. When I went to sleep, photography was a business of silver halide film, paper, and chemistry. Waking up it is something completely different, and new, a whole new art form: digital photography. A digital camera is really a scanner with a lens, so it is not even clear that the word “photography” is right. Some people call digital photographs “captures,” which is technically accurate, but more and more I’m tending to use the general term “image.”

Of course, the real question isn’t the medium and tools used for the craft, it is the eye and vision with which one sees things. And the way the image looks in the end.

Q: How do you personally connect to your work? (If you don’t want to answer this one, it’s fine.)

A: Perhaps it is redundant to say, but my work is deeply personal to me. Fundamentally, I photograph to satisfy myself. I don’t really care that much what other people think of my images. Of course, I like it if they like them, and even more if they let me know they like my photography, and even more if they shower me with honors and riches for my photographs, but at the end of the day it is how I feel that matters. It’s worked very well for me so far that (in this second career) photography is only a small portion of my livelihood.

These days when I take a photograph, I am always looking for the basis of a digital image. In other words, what you see on the camera LCD is usually really far from my finished image. So I’ve had to learn to be clever at translation and decoding, and interpolating backwards from the effect I have in mind, because you sure as heck aren’t going to see it as the JPEG rendition of a photo on a 2 inch screen on the back of your SLR.

I spend a lot of my creative time at the computer working on images. I can get lost in time doing this, listening to music and post-processing. For me I sometimes think of working in Photoshop as doodling.

I give myself assignments. Sometimes I just say, “Today is a good day to photograph something red,” or something in the garden, or whatever. I try to find subject matter that I enjoy, and to look at things differently. But basically my images are about color, light, and composition–and not about the subject matter of the photo.

I like looking at interesting and beautiful things. I never want my photography to get in the way of my looking, so sometimes I don’t even take a camera. I just look.

Q: I think I just have one more question…maybe two. I would like to know the significance to you of your photos? If you want, you can focus on a specific photo or two. How do you relate to how you were feeling at a specific time through one of your photos?

I go through a cycle of reactions with my images. I am absolutely in love with every single photo when I make it. If I don’t think a photo is great, why should I release the shutter? Then I look at it on my computer, and most of the time I don’t like so much what I see. Coming back at a later point I can have more objectivity about the images without being so wrapped up in what I was feeling when I did the capture.

To talk about specific images, let me choose Entering the Sanctuary and Capillarity I.

With “Entering the Sanctuary” I was approaching Yosemite Valley in the Sierra mountains in a snowstorm. Then the clouds lifted, and I got this wonderful vision of a crystalline and pure world. From a photography point of view, what I like about the image is that the scale is deceptive. You have to look at it for a while to see the trees on the lower left, notice how small they are, and figure out the grandeur of scale of the scene. “Entering the Sanctuary” makes me feel humble and happy, both at the same time, because the place in the image is a safe place.

With “Capallarity I”, the thing that interested me was that this was basically an undistinguished and rather small leaf. I kept working on it and working on it, and the colors and capillaries started coming out in a vivid way. It makes me feel so happy!

Even the Miwok Names Are Forgotten

Wednesday, May 31st, 2006

Every view in Yosemite Valley has probably been photographed, and most views more than once. The famous vistas have been photographed a great many times. For example, there’s a classic Ansel Adams view of Vernal Falls that must have been taken from very close to my position when I took the photo shown above a few days ago.

These days one of the biggest challenges as a photographer in Yosemite is fighting one’s way through the groups of photographers that can block the famous locations. For example, it is impossible to visit Tunnel View in the afternoon without finding a horde of fifty or so photographers with tripods.

Most of the images that all these photographers take (my own and Ansel Adams’s included) portray a view of unspoiled nature. The very fact that these phorographers come in packs shows this for a lie—Yosemite is not empty and unspoiled nature, it is filled with people including other photographers.

By the way, the obsession with photographing Yosemite goes way back—more or less to the European discovery of the valley. A few years after its “discovery” there were already competing photographers in the valley, for example Eadweard Muybridge and Carleton Watkins struggling to produce the most impressive wet-plate vistas during the same season in the valley in 1872.

The photographic lie that Yosemite is not peopled cloaks a bigger (and related) untruth: that Yosemite itself is (and was) an unpeopled wilderness (leaving aside photographers and other tourists). This lie was spread by photographers from the very beginning: witha few exceptions, the early epic photos tell the story that Yosemite was an unpeopled wilderness when it was “discovered.”

People have always lived in Yosemite. The fact is that the Miwoks lived in Yosemite Valley, but were rapidly pushed out to make way for tourism. Today, employees of the National Park Service and the Delaware North Corporation (the park concessionaire) live in the valley. As far as I am concerned it is no consolation, but you can view the recreation of a Miwok village at the Yosemite museum, along with some waxworks models of what the Miwok may have looked like.

The Miwoks named the great waterfalls. What we call Bridalveil Falls was Pohono, “Spirit of the Wind,” shown here in my modern view from between the legs of the crowd at Tunnel View:

Spirit of the Wind

View this photograph larger.

I’ve already remarked that I despise the naming of the great trees of Yosemite and Sequoia after our generals of war. Essentially, this kind of naming is an act of cultural imperialism, along with blanking-out the Miwok names. As far as that goes, I like “Spirit of the Wind” as a name much better than the Victorian, vaguely insipid, Bridalveil Falls. The waterfall does seem to respond to the vagaries of the wind. It is the spirit of the wind, and it is no bride’s veil I have ever seen.

Other Miwok names are even more murky and lost in the mists of time than that of Pohono. The Miwok name for Vernal Falls (at least this American name is vaguely poetic) was Yan-o-pah. I haven’t been able to find out what the name means, and even figures such as the semi-disreputable and definitely iconoclastic Muybridge back when there were still Miwok seems to have got it wrong. Muybridge’s photograph of Vernal Falls is captioned “Pi-Wi-Ack, Valley of the Yosemite.” (Pi-Wi-Ack may have been the Miwok name for the entire valley.)

To Muybridge’s credit, he seems to used Miwok place names in his Yosemite photographs in a polemical fashion, and a number of his photographs do feature the Miwok doing their natural thing, rather than the unpeopled grandeur of “natural” Yosemite, or another variation on the noble savage theme.

Muybridge’s “Pi-Wi-Ack, Valley of the Yosemite,” taken in 1872, shows the top of Vernal Falls without the massive fence it has today, and without people. You can see a small reproduction of this photograph in this San Francisco Chronicle article, and a larger reproduction in Rebecca Solnit’s execellent critical biography of Eadweard Muybridge, River of Shadows. As Muybridge was a murderer—he shot his wife’s lover at point blank range in the heart—and an inventor—of what more or less became motion picture technology—his life makes interesting reading even without the photography.

The top of Yan-o-pah came by its zero population denisty (and lack of “improvements”) naturally in Muybridge’s time, but today it takes Photoshop, as in this recreation of mine of the top of Vernal Falls without people:

Yosemite Without People

The last of the great classic trinity of waterfall photographic subjects in Yosemite is Cho-Lack to the Miwok, and Yosemite Falls to us. Once again, the meaning of Cho-Lack is as lost (at least to me) as the water that rushes down the Merced to the great San Francisco Bay. Here’s a photo of Cho-Lack I took recently, with my digital camera on a tripod and a long exposure to create a continuous, white flowing effect for the motion of water—like that used perforce by the great nineteenth century photographers, because they had no choice, and their exposures had to be long. The editing out of people and their artifacts was accomplished with framing, not via Photoshop.

Cho-Lack

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Making Money with a Photography Blog

Wednesday, March 8th, 2006

Here’s a piece I wrote about making AdSense money from a photography blog.

The very short version: traffic + content + community = $$$.

Compare and Contrast

Thursday, December 8th, 2005


Flower Surprise, photo by Harold Davis. View this photo larger.

Back when I was in high school, I was often asked to write essays that compared and contrasted two things or concepts. As a professional writer, I find that “compare and contrast” remains often a good organizing principle. Or at least an easy one. If you can compare and contrast two things that are different, but have some similarities, then you don’t really have to think about the things in an original way. Compare and contrast is pretty much an algorithm that becomes a routine.

I found this white, blue-striped flower hiding under some leaves in my front garden. The blossom pictured is very, very small with a total diameter of about 1/4″ (less then one centimeter). If any reader can help me identify the flower, I’d appreciate it.

The photo above was taken with my 105mm Nikkor macro with 68mm of extension tubes, tripod mounted, stopped way down to f/32. In other words, conventional painstaking high depth of field macro.

In comparison and contrast, the photo below was taken with my Lens Baby mounted with the +14 macro filter kit and the macro portion of the Tokina .45X wide angle lens that Lensbabies sells (I can’t really find the specification for the diopters this thing adds, but obviously it is substantial). This was wide open (the equivalent of f/2.0), low depth of field, and handheld at 1/1600 of a second.

I like both version of this compare and contrast, and think both look better in a larger size (click here and here to open larger versions of each photo).

Which version do you prefer? In this case, I slightly prefer the conventional photo to the Lens Baby photo: I tend to think that Lens Baby are best when they are used expressively, and not to reproduce a conventional effect. Please let me know what you think.

Flower Surprise 2

View this photo larger.

Flower Like the Sun

Wednesday, December 7th, 2005

This flower photo, like an earlier Lens Baby flower photo, reminds me of hot sun held secret within the plant.

The poet, engraver, and mystic William Blake put it this way (I know the photo doesn’t show a sunflower):

Ah Sunflower, weary of time,
Who countest the steps of the sun;
Seeking after that sweet golden clime
Where the traveller’s journey is done;

Where the youth pined away with desire,
And the pale virgin shrouded in snow,
Arise from their graves, and aspire
Where my Sunflower wishes to go!

Keep on Burning

The Fly and I

Sunday, December 4th, 2005

It all started this morning with this fly buzzing around my work room. After I’d captured the fly, I got out the Lens Baby transmogrification disintegrator reintegrator.

My wife said, “Not the Lens Baby, please! A bee is one thing but a fly is quite another. I’m taking the kids, and when I come back, I don’t want to see gross hairs coming out of your arms, at least any grosser than they are now!”

I put the camera on a tripod (portentous music), and photographed the fly on a cyclomen petal (which accounts for the lucious background color).

I photographed it conventionally with my macro lens and extension tubes.

So far, I’ve mostly been using the Lens Baby handheld. But I figured since I had the setup and the tripod, I might as well try different Lens Baby aperture rings as well. It worked best with the wide open aperture ring and the Lens Baby macro kit, exposed at about 1/60 of second.

You really don’t want to see too much of the fly. At least I don’t, and I don’t think my wife does either.

So to heck with being conventional, if you are going to trade places, er, I mean photograph, a fly, you might as well use the Lens Baby and its macro filters.

So why it is so upsetting to watch a head like my head appear on the fly, and fly hairs grow on my wings? I seem to be making a buzzing sound, and I won’t even mention my distressing food cravings. And that fly with my head has got my D70, and keeps saying, “Say Cheese!”

Help me! I’m turning into that which I photograph. And, oh yeah (more portentous music). That transmogrification disintegrator reintegrator is busted. I CAN’T CHANGE BACK! HELP ME! HELP ME! (Fade to black.)

Bright Lights Big Leaf

Saturday, December 3rd, 2005

A reader writes:

Man, I love how you photograph water!

And someone else asks:

How do you do this? I am so jealous…wink, wink!

Of course, I appreciate the compliments (who wouldn’t?). But without being overly modest, I think photography is more about seeing than about technique. It’s easy enough to describe the tools and techniques I used for these photos:

Nikon D70 manual, Lens Baby 2.0 +14 macro filters, ISO 200, f/8.0 aperture ring, shutter speeds of 1/320 of a second (upper photo) and 1/400 of a second (photo below). Post processing included adding contrast gradients in Photoshop and extreme sharpening of specific elements, but was otherwise routine.

But knowing how I did it doesn’t mean that I could ever do it again (or that you could do it, no offense). Mostly the issues are being there and seeing:

  • Being there with a camera in the first place with one’s head in a “taking photos” frame of mind.
  • Seeing the photo twice: once in the camera viewfinder as something special, and once more when looking through the photos one has taken.

In these days of digital photography, I think it helps to learn to see with the possibilities of digital post-manipulation in mind when you start to compose the photo.

Now, here’s a question: a while back after a couple of readers requested it I started adding meta information about the tools and techniques I used on each photo. Do you find this helpful, or not? Please let me know.

Queing Water Drops

Click to view this photo larger.

Giving Thanks

Thursday, November 24th, 2005

Meta information: Nikon D70 Raw capture, AF-S VR-Zoom-Nikkor 70-200mm f/2.8G IF-ED at 200mm (200mm 35mm equivalence); tripod mounted and VR (vibration reduction) turned off.

Exif: ISO 200, 1/125 second, f/2.8.

Focus: Automatic, at infinity.

Post: Raw file processed twice (once for sky and once for foreground) and combined using a layer mask and gradient, minor cropping, routine level adjustments and sharpening, a dark blue gradient overlay used to enhance the sky.

If you look closely, you can see the first bridge lights coming on. As day turns to dusk, it is a good reminder that today–Thanksgiving in this country–is a good time to be home with our families, and to count our blessings. Whatever the dubious origins of this holiday (and more on this in a moment) it is a good time to remember what we individually have to be thankful for.

I am thankful for:

  • Sunsets, clouds, and sunrises
  • Digital photography, lenses, and computers
  • My three healthy boys, and that (this year) they are all bigger than the turkey
  • The wonderful Thanksgiving feast that Phyllis made

My list of things to be thankful for could obviously go on, as I personally have a great deal of blessings. But let me digress.

Julian has been on vacation from school the whole Thanksgiving week. I took him the other day to see a movie at the Bay Street Mall, which is in a heightened state of lets-start-Xmas early: a great deal of commercialism and more sales pressure than one usually experiences in American upscale shopping malls. (I can remember some real sales pressure in the souks of North Africa, but that’s another digression.)

Julian usually insists on exploring everything he comes across thoroughly, and the odd thing he found in this very blatantly commercial mall was an Ohlone Indian mound and timeline. Sitting just between P.J. Chang’s Chinese Bistro and Old Navy are a set of signs noting significant population changes in the Ohlone tribe.

Roughly, in 1769 before the Spaniards settled the area, there were 100,000 Ohlones in the Bay area, living on shell fish and native plants. They had villages in places like the mouth of Wildcat Creek, and navigated the waters and marshes of the Bay and delta.

Within twenty years of settlement from Europe, 25% of the indigeneous population had died of measles. It was downhill from there, until today all that is left of the Ohlones is a replica mound in a shopping mall.

I’m not really trying to be grumpy, but obviously the Thanksgiving on the part of the old world settlers of North America was at the expense of those here before them (this is not a novel observation on my part).

I think we should try hard in the season between Thanksgiving and Christmas not to succumb to the pressures of commerce, and to believe in the possibility of a world in which one people’s good fortune does not have to come at the cost of disaster for someone else.