To calm my mind, I took off for the beach on Sunday. The election has been one constant mind-sucking hyperfocused long haul. Being able to take pictures, listen to the surf, and enjoy the post-storm turbulence was a good thing for me to do.

Hyperfocus like I’ve had for almost a year is not a particularly good thing for me, the people around me, or the workload. I essentially piled on 4 or more hours a day of work to what I was doing, and even more reading.

Even more of a shock? Coming up for air on November 5th with joy at President-elect Obama’s victory, incredible disappointment in California’s acceptance of Proposition 8, and the sense that the energy I faced the day with was going to be difficult to sustain without the ‘fight’ mode I’d become accustomed to. For the moment, I’m trying to dig out of some work backlogs, stay focused, and still enjoy life.

However, I have some posts in the pipeline that are more than photos, so please stay subscribed. It’s been a long haul to the finish line, but crossing it just means the next race starts, which for me, is the long and the short of the thing.

Get ‘em here. And thanks to Rick Klau for the widget.

Yes. We. Can.

Believe it.

VOTE.

Bathed in light after being drenched in the storm. If you want to, you can find reflections.

One of the fascinations of water, and reflections, and seeing it all through a lens is the hope that it captures a reflection of the observer, as well as the observed.

I asked Twitter how to roast pumpkin seeds. Before 5 minutes had passed (maybe even three!), I had a page full of great suggestions. So now I have to go buy more pumpkins, because I don’t have enough seeds for all of them. So fun!

Please note the reply from @SticksCSUN, who should just never be allowed near the kitchen. Period. Happy Halloween!

The red rose whispers of passion,
And the white rose breathes of love;
O, the red rose is a falcon,
And the white rose is a dove.

But I send you a cream-white rosebud
With a flush on its petal tips;
For the love that is purest and sweetest
Has a kiss of desire on the lips.

The White Rose
by John Boyle O’Reilly