So there I was, minding my own business, chatting with Baxt, when she said that she got epic hail at her house. And I was all like “Dude!” and she was all like “it was weird.” And suddenly, there was a huge-ass mother of all thunderclaps basically right over my house which caused Mr Bell to rocket into the air, followed by a wicked lightning strike, and I looked outside, and saw this:

And I was all like “damn, dude, those are some bad-ass clouds,” and then I popped into the alley, and saw this:

And I was like “HOLY CRAP.”

So I ran inside to say “holy crap” to Baxt, and I grabbed my camera, and I went outside to take pictures, and then it started raining, so I had to hide in my doorway and take pictures:

Look, kids, I am not from the Midwest. It does not thunder, rain, or lightning in June.

Ever.

Period.

The end days?

They are here.

Did somebody order an apocalypse?

Walking Fort Bragg happens to be on hiatus at the moment, and while I am apparently not cool enough to be listed in Blabberon’s blogroll, I can still take up some of the slack. For those of you who aren’t familiar with Walking Fort Bragg, it’s a very neat site written by a guy who walks around Fort Bragg pretty much every day, taking interesting pictures and writing about the things that he sees.

In the course of wandering around Fort Bragg, there are all sorts of fascinating things to see, for those who choose to look for them, and last week, I wandered around one of my favourite sections of town. It’s in the Northeast corner, bounded by East Bush Street and North Harrison Street, and I call it “the garden district” because it has a bunch of lovely old homes with beautiful gardens. I love the garden district because it’s very quiet, and peaceful, and because I can tell that the homes there are lived in, and loved. Someday, I would love to live in one of them.

There are all sorts of awesome hidden surprises, like this spectacular gate on Winifred Street. And this is just a side gate. Here’s the main gate:

This is the kind of gate I want to have, a gate that looks like it’s going into another, hidden world. There’s this beautiful lush garden beyond it, with piles of mature plants every which way, and then a low, simple Craftsman bungalow which embodies my plain, clean aesthetic. Not for me the epic mansion, please.

Here’s a fence with a riot of roses on a cul-de-sac.

A magical glimpse across a lawn.

Not all sidewalks are made of cold, hard concrete. While this isn’t very disability-friendly, it looks so charming and awesome that I can’t help but love it.

Here’s some snazzy low-water landscaping. Alas, this house is right next to a for-sale house that is just monstrous and ugly and everything wrong with the world. I’ll bet it used to be a quiet bungalow, and they tore it down to build a HUGE house that took up almost the entire lot, since that’s what people seem to want these days, and it stands out on the street like a sore thumb.

Here’s a man painting his trim. I wanted to ask him if it was his house, but I was too shy, so instead I surreptitiously photographed him from across the street. It’s a beautiful house.

Another awesome Craftsman bungalow with a beautiful and oh-so-inviting gate.

A glimpse through the foliage to another wonderful house.

More rambling vines on an old fence.

One of the things that makes the garden district so excellent is the big lots, and relatively modest homes. Sure, there are a few houses that are pretty big; one of my favourite houses here is way too big for my needs. But even the big houses look graceful in the landscape, because they don’t overwhelm their lots. As someone who firmly advocates density, of course, I should be pointing out that huge lots with single family dwellings aren’t very sustainable, but they are so very beautiful, with their gorgeous landscaping and lovingly maintained decorative elements, that I don’t have the heart to condemn them.

The garden district is like a living illustration of my internal conflict over personal desires and utilitarian function. I would love, love, love, love to live in one of these houses, to putter around the yard painting the trim and pruning the flowers, even though they go against my stated beliefs about sustainability. This little corner of town is like a magical wonderland which seems so abstracted from the rest of this blighted, tired, sad-looking town; I hope it stays this way forever.

Yesterday, I wandered around Zida Borcich Letterpress for awhile, taking pictures of the shop and generally getting underfoot. Anyway, I happen to like letterpress, and I think that letterpress shops are pretty neat, so, you know, here are a bunch of pictures of a letterpress shop. (The presswoman was camera shy, so you don’t get any pictures of her, but she’s very talented and supercool. And she didn’t mind me clomping about and making idiotic statements like “ah, foiling, are you,” so she wins a prize for that in my book.)

These are very thin spacers made from brass and copper, used to ensure that lines of type are tight when they are set. They are extremely thin, and supercool.

These jobs are either waiting to be filed, or waiting to be printed. It’s common for shops to keep frequently printed jobs on file, so that they can just pull and re-print as needed, rather than setting the piece all over again. Incidentally, this type is the real deal, 100% lead and delicious in the mouths of toddlers. And I speak from experience.

On the left is a photopolymer plate; a lot of printers use photopolymers rather than hand setting type and ordering engravings for images, or mix photopolymer and actual type. On the right, you can see the finished job.

Ornamental initials in a typecase full of dingbats and initials.

A 1924 Chandler and Price press, which was originally owned by the Georgia Pacific Lumber Company.

Directions for running said press.

One of two Heidelbergs at ZBL, with the engine running.

The other Heidelberg, set up for foiling. Alas, nothing had been foiled yet, so I can’t show you how awesome a roll of foil looks after it’s been used. But, trust me, it’s cool.

Some vintage type.

A stack of plates on one of the many file cabinets in the shop. You can see full metal in the front, and a photopolymer lurking in the back; both are made by coating the surface in a photo sensitive emulsion, exposing it, and then dipping it in an acid bath which dissolves the areas to be left white.

Here’s a case of type, looking all type-y.

Here’s a printer’s workbench, set up for composition. The stone in the center is used to mix ink.

Cases and cases of type.

You can never have too many slugs in a working printshop.

Printers’ ornaments, also known as dingbats. Check out the level of detail, pretty cool, eh?

More dingbats and initials, with brass clips to keep them divided in the drawer.

Note the slanted drawers!

I hope you enjoyed this glimpse into the workings of an actual functioning letterpress shop. There are lots more pictures on my Flickr account, for those who want to explore a little more.

I’ve already been to Cuffy’s Cove once, but when we were there the first time, we belatedly realized that we had missed a huge chunk of the cemetery, although we got some nice shots of the Catholic section. So when my fellow photo adventurer and I went on a roundup of the last coastally located public cemeteries last month, we decided to go back to Cuffy’s Cove and capture the excellence of the community cemetery.

It was our last stop to the day, and we were starting to flag. The weather was also getting foul, as always seems to happen whenever I go to Cuffy’s Cove, so there was a freezing cold wind whipping around us and ominous clouds scudded overhead. And, of course, I was wearing a long sleeved shirt, so the sleeves kept getting pushed into the lens by the wind.

But it was worth it. It was worth it for this headstone alone:

This is, bar none, the most amazing headstone I have ever seen. The level of detail is just incredible, and I’m fairly certain that it was carved be a local artisan. I also happen to know the resident of the grave, and I think it’s a very fitting headstone, all things considered. At the other end, there’s a bench, so you can sit and look out the ocean, or turn back and ponder this incredible work of art. This, my friends, is the kind of headstone I would want to have.

This is on the back, on the upper portion of the headstone.

This magnificent urn is on an obelisk in the Northwestern corner of the cemetery. (Yes, I have to climb it to get this shot, and no, you can’t see the picture of me climbing the obelisk.)

Here’s the urn in situ. Some very cool carving on here, interspersed with all that awesome electric orange lichen. Which looked more red in the cemetery, because I was wearing my sunglasses. Everything is redder with my sunglasses. So much for “not distorting colors.”

Here’s a baby grave. You know me, I can’t resist a baby grave. Uhm, that sounds less heinous in person, I swear.

Here’s a footstone without a headstone. Poor footstone, all alone.

Rather than actually sharing real estate, I suspect these bodies were never recovered, so their families probably decided to make a monument to all three, rather than putting up three headstones over empty graves. It’s always interesting to see Scandinavians, because most of them lived out in Comptche.

How now, Charlie Brown? (The date is 1896, if you’re having trouble reading.)

“Isaac Snickers” would be a great name for a book, don’t you think? This Snickers must be lonely, all the others are in the Catholic Cemetery. I think there must be an interesting story behind that.

My photo companion pointed out that these headstones always remind him of sausages, and that was when I decided that my headstone will be shaped like bacon. Or maybe my footstone. What I’m saying is that bacon will definitely be involved in my monument. And yes, I can have bacon and an awesome Greek goddess too, darnit. And a winged angel of death. My tomb is going to be so garish, it will be banned in six counties. These headstones remind me more of the special pillows used by geishas so that they don’t mess up their hair at night.

And that concludes the cemetery extravaganza. If you want to look at the regional coastal cemeteries from top to bottom, here they all are: Inglenook Cemetery, Ocean View Cemetery, Rose Memorial Park, Caspar Cemetery, Hillcrest Cemetery, Evergreen Cemetery, Little River Cemetery, and the Catholic section of Cuffy’s Cove. If anyone knows of some lurking public cemeteries between these which I haven’t visited, please let me know. And, of course, if someone is willing to open their private cemetery to me, I would be honored.

Technically, the name of this cemetery is a lie. It could more accurately be termed “Motel View Cemetery,” and as my photo companion pointed out, the presence of the hotel made the cemetery that much creepier. “I keep expecting Norman Bates to come around the corner,” he said at one point.

This cemetery is also just weird. It’s owned by the Rose Memorial Park Association, and it sprawls languidly across a huge chunk of ground, with graves interspersed seemingly at random. Some of the graves huddle together in nervous clusters like women at cocktail parties, and others are isolated alone in vast expanses of lawn. It created a very strange mood, let me tell you.

Take this obelisk, for example, which is covered in ornate lotus carvings. I think it might be a foundation stone for the cemetery, since there was nothing to indicate that it was a grave, but it was isolated off in a far corner of the cemetery. I like the lotuses, though, it’s a new motif for my cemetery flora collection.

This is an extremely image-heavy post, so I am putting it behind a cut to save those of you who have slow internet. But I encourage you to click through for more, because although this cemetery was small and very weird, it had some amazingly cool things hidden away inside.

[...]

The cemetery series begins again, thanks to a whirlwind Saturday trip to capture the three coastal cemeteries* we hadn’t shot yet. I’ll start with Inglenook Cemetery, which had to be the smallest and least exciting cemetery we visited. I suppose that’s not too surprising, since Inglenook is one of the smallest and least exciting towns I have visited. (Sorry, Inglenookians, but it’s true and you know it.)

One awesome thing about Inglenook cemetery was the few really old graves, like this one, which is right by the side gate:

It’s the grave of Reverend McKinney and his wife Louisa, and it dates from the turn of the last century. Pretty cool, eh? There’s another McKinney grave next to it, also very old, but the shot didn’t come out at all well, alas, because the headstone was so dark.

I really loved this wheat carving on an obelisk:

Wheat, incidentally, symbolizes rebirth, because grain crops die away and then renew themselves. This is one of the more detailed wheat carvings I have found on a headstone.

My first Shriner headstone:

A beloved pilot:

Check out those superlatives. Go ahead. Click through and read them. Inglenook can wait.

The Jensens have a headstone with a little character. I like that, and I like David’s motto.

*Our cemetery shooting has excluded private cemeteries, for the obvious reason that they are neither publicly listed, nor accessible unless I want to trespass. We did take a few photos of the pioneer cemetery in the Botanic Gardens as well, but it has been so sterilized that they were pretty dull. That said, if any of my local readers would allow me to photograph their family cemeteries, I would be honored, because I have a deep love for private family cemeteries on farms and so forth. Ultimately, I would like to be buried on my own land, assuming that I ever live on a farm far enough from city limits to get a cemetery permit.

For some reason, I feel intensely lazy today, perhaps because of all my adventures yesterday.  So my plan is to sit in the sun and read books all day, which means that there will probably be a Book Project post later on. For now, you will have to enjoy this picture I took at the Botanical Gardens yesterday.

I also noted on my visit to the Botanical Gardens that their disabled access pretty much sucks, and I think that is unfortunate, given that people in wheelchairs like flowers too. I wonder if there’s some sort of grant which could be applied for to make more of the Gardens accessible. I think that in addition to being nice, it would also probably increase interest in the Gardens, since people with strollers and wheelchairs could visit along with those of us with control over our legs. This town in general is not very friendly to the disabled. In flagrant violation of the FDA, many businesses are basically impossible to access, and those which make a token effort are often not laid out in a way which is comfortable for wheelchair and stroller users. I sense a lawsuit in the future…

Since yesterday was the equinox, marking the first day of spring, I’m going to torment you with more garden pictures. It’s just so amazing to watch stuff opening up, and I feel like every day something new is blooming, and flowering, and leafing. Especially after the rain on Wednesday, the garden feels like it is literally exploding.

That’s the maple on the north end of the garden on 11 March…

And here it is five days later. The leaves are so green that they literally hurt, and the others are slowly following suit.

Here’s the tulip from last week:

It is still going strong, and another bud on the same plant is about to go into bloom as well.

This is a mystery tulip. I don’t know what color it is going to be, and it’s being determinedly coy. I took this photo on Sunday, thinking it would open up within a day or so, and it is still firmly clamped shut. Expect a newsflash when I find out what color it is. I’m thinking red or pink, judging from the tint at the lip of the bud.

Three new white crocuses are still going strong, although the others have all subsided. My freesias are putting out buds too, which seems a little early, but I suppose I am ok with that. I like freesias. Always have.

Now, if only I could win the battle of the weeds.

It’s been awhile since I made a photo post, I realize, and it being Friday, perhaps I can resurrect photo Friday as an institution. Mainly I just haven’t been taking pictures of anything interesting, or I have been taking them in dribs and drabs, so I haven’t had much to post. But the garden is really starting to spring into action, as six:fourteen readers have probably noticed, so I thought I would share some garden porn.

Like my crocuses, which exploded into bloom last week, although they have largely faded now:

Crocuses are awesome, because they bloom before everything else, like an early sign that spring really is on the way. I got some purple ones, and I got some white ones:

Although I didn’t mean to do it when I planted the bulbs, the purple and white flowers ended up clustering together, which I thought was very interesting. You can also catch a glimpse of the faint purple streaks on these blossoms, if you look closely.

The peach tree is also gearing up for action:

This blossom is visible from my living room window, so I have been keeping an eye on it as it develops. Maybe I’ll start a peach a day project, and photograph it every day as it develops. Hopefully the peaches this year will be better than last years, which tasted like ass on a stick.

The Northern Japanese maple is also starting to really bust out. It must be getting more sun exposure, or it may just be more happy with life; the others are clearly lagging behind. One is really badly windburned, which is a major bummer. I am going to have to prune most of it away, I think. I didn’t expect it to be so damaged, since it seemed to be doing well, so I am actually rather surprised. The one which I thought was seriously windburned appears to be recovering well, and it is covered in tiny buds which are working their way up into leafdom.

No garden is complete without…

Tulips!

I hope y’all enjoyed today’s post. RSS readers may note that I didn’t use a slideshow; if you prefer the slideshow-free version, let me know, because otherwise I may revert to doing slideshows, since this post took approximately 10 times as long to do this way than it would have had I done a slideshow. But if it really makes you happy, I’ll do photo posts this way in the future. Because I love you all so very much. That was a very rambling paragraph. I apologize.

Now go have a nice weekend. The equinox is coming right up, and then it will seriously be spring.

The weather has been less than ideal lately, which means I haven’t really been out with my camera. This is also partly because I have been very busy with work, and generally very lazy and disinclined to go outside. I’m hoping to rectify this situation over the weekend, but for now it’s Friday, and I try to post photos on Fridays, but I don’t have any awesome photographic adventures to feature.

So, I decided to showcase the photographs that are up on six:fourteen, my photography site. Some of these images may be familiar to you because they have been posted here before, but others are entirely new, and I think that some of them are pretty excellent.

I try to post photos here that are interesting and at least tangentially related to some sort of theme, like a cemetery adventure or a bike ride on the Haul Road. Because I post photographs individually on six:fourteen, it allows me a lot more leeway to do things like a week of flower macros, which I don’t think many of you would stand for over here. So a lot of these photographs will be new, and I hope interesting.

You may note that I have a bit of an obsession with lichen. And holes. And decaying trains. I think it’s the last bit of goth inside me, working its way out. Sometimes I manage to get a lichen/hole/train trifecta, and it fills me with so much happiness that it’s exactly like eating a candybar.

As usual, click on a photograph to stop the slideshow and show the details.