Afternoon Hike
A late afternoon hike near Paarl. It’s not every day that you see warnings to “Beware of Mountain Lions.”
Matt Feldman PhotographyInspiring you to get out there, in the distance, and see it for yourself.
Matt Feldman Photography
A late afternoon hike near Paarl. It’s not every day that you see warnings to “Beware of Mountain Lions.”
A stroll along the nearly-deserted streets of the village of Isona.
At this year’s celebration, a great day on the Mall.
Along the Billy Goat Trail.
An afternoon walk through Lilongwe’s central market.
The Gooderham (Flatiron) Building behind trees on Wellington Street.
In a silent forest of cedars, poplars and ancient granite, a void worthy of a fantastic fable.
On the Bruce Trail near Wiarton.
Hiking the Bruce Trail near Big Bay.
11pm in January. From the southwest corner of the tower.
From early winter, an old tree and dilapidated barn on the street where I grew up.
From the west side of New York City, about 28th Street.
A stream through the Gunpowder Falls State Park.
I’m trying to have my camera with me more often, and stumbling upon a swamp with interesting trees is reward enough for carrying my gear around.
Three lone trees near my hotel in Downtown San Diego.
I ride a school bus every morning now. Again. A big yellow one. With green vinyl seats you peel yourself off of in hot weather. With the fold-out STOP sign. With the flashing lights. With the windows that only slide halfway down, enough to only tease riders about relief from the stifling environs. But my lunch hasn’t been stolen (yet), so things are still good.
Amongst guidebooks’ most frequently offered safety-conscious tips: “Avoid large crowds and gatherings.” Whatever. I was touring Lisbon’s Castello de Jorge the other night when the horns started. Yelling crowds, swelling in numbers, swarming the streets. Cars honking in continuous blasts. Then more cars, building to a cacophony of earsplitting proportions.
I normally begin a trip recounting the items, often essential, that I’ve forgotten. And while this excursion isn’t without a few minor wayward objects, the major gear is all with me. As the days tick by, however, I’m now progressively losing stuff. At this rate, it’ll be me and whatever I can stuff into my pockets.
Kia ora, everyone! It’s that time of year again. Time to polish those brass knuckles for yet another pre-holiday stampede-like trip to the mall. Time to take a page from Elvis’ playbook and shoot out those radio speakers after the bazillionth grocery store listening of Chimpmunks Christmas songs.