Archive for the ‘Landscape’ Category

Best of 2011

Tuesday, January 3rd, 2012
Best of 2011

In 2011, I was fortunate to have many travel opportunities, from familiar places to new places here in Alaska and to new continents.  This made for a rather challenging effort to come up with around a dozen images that reflected my best images from 2011.  With Michelle’s help, I narrowed it down to 13.  With this post, I will tell a little about what is behind each image.

Canoes at Dusk.”  The feature image was captured during Michelle’s and my visit to Maui in late December to mid-January.  I had been wanting to capture an iconic beach with palm trees sunset photo and found this beach with outrigger canoes in North Kihei.  After capturing sunset, the canoes, and a paddleboarder, I was loading my gear back into our rental car when I saw how the colors of dusk were developing.  I set up literally next to the car and captured the elements of color, shape, and canoe.

Rainbow Eucalyptus, Maui.”  Michelle and I decided to give ourselves a whole two days to explore the Hana side of the island of Maui.  On our way across the top, northeast portion of the island, we spotted what I would later learn is an oft-photographed Rainbow Eucalyptus grove alongside the Hana Highway.  I photographed the trees both on the way down to Hana and on the way back to Kihei.  I found the lighting better on the return trip due to the overcast skies.

Grasses and Snow.”  I have increasingly come to enjoy venturing out onto the flats of the Anchorage Coastal Wildlife Refuge in the wintertime.  On this particular day, I accessed the coast through Kincaid Park, and started to hike out to the water’s edge, where large boulders of ice had been accumulating.  Along the way, I looked to my right and to the north and caught this view of grasses and snow drifts with Mt. Susitna in the background.

Mesa and Sunset.” I was in the Page, Arizona area attending a landscape photography workshop led by Alain Briot.  After an evening of working some hoodoos on a cliff overlooking the Lake Powell area, we were starting to head back to our vehicles when I noticed this tremendous buildup of clouds.  Knowing that they would capture the sunset’s colors well, I scurried over to where I could set up a composition that included this mesa I had spotted earlier in the evening. 

Framed Rock.”  Still in the Page area for this Alain Briot workshop, we were exploring some rock formations over in the Glen Canyon National Recreation Area on the Utah side of the border.  I was maneuvering to capture this balanced rock I had been eyeing for a while when I happened upon this natural frame created by fallen rocks.  It took a while to position the tripod and camera, and to select the right lens to fulfill my vision of this balanced rock.

Worn and Weathered.” In May, I had the pleasure of joining the Tony Robbins Platinum Partners as they ventured to Africa for a five day, three-country excursion.  My primary purpose was to provide photographic instruction, both through lectures and one-on-one interaction at various locations.  But, I also took many, many pictures, paticularly on the day we went to the Nakatindi School in Zambia for a contribution day that consisted of repairing doors, desks, floors and windows, repainting rooms, and planting trees and other plants. While in the school’s cafeteria, I spotted this older man, who I had seen earlier out in the school yard, and simply loved the texture on his face and how it seemed to reflect the aged texture on the walls.

Lincoln Memorial, Sunrise.”  When I was in Washington D.C. in May to attend the Nature’s Best awards reception at the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History, I spent some time getting up early to photograph the memorials on the mall.  Here, the early light of the sun lights up the face of the Lincoln Memorial.  I previsualized this as a black and white because of the great contrast and textures.

First Toss.”  While out in the Bristol Bay region to begin fieldwork on my Bristol Bay/Pebble Mine book, I spent a couple of days on the driftboat F/V Chulyen, skippered by lifelong Naknek resident Everett Thompson.  Our first opener was right after sunrise, and I wanted to capture the first toss of the buoy that would secure one end of the gill nets in place.  Using a graduated neutral denstify filter to balance out the exposure and give more drama to the clouds, I waited until the desired moment and just started clicking.  The end result was a gorgeous image that has turned out to be a powerful representation of the life of a driftnetter.

Turnagain Lichens.” While heading out one morning in July to go for a sunrise hike with my friend John Pope, I asked if he wouldn’t mind if we bypass the trailhead for a few minutes to go check out what the morning light was doing on the Turnagain Arm.  I found the perfect spot to capture the morning light on the Kenai Mountains and their reflection on the calm waters of the Turnagain Arm, then found an even better vantage point that offered this patch of organge lichens.

Anaktuvuk Pass, Sunrise.”  After spending a few days for my weeklong visit in Anaktuvuk Pass in August, I had scouted what I hoped would be the perfect sunrise location.  There was a large patch of crimson red bear berries on the hillside, a row of mountains to the west, and a great overlook view of the village to the east.  While the sun did not rise and shine in the way I had originally anticipated, I ended up very much liking how the sunshine turned out.  This is perhaps one of my most shared images of the year.  The greatest compliment I received came from a village resident who stated that she never knew her village could be so beautiful. 

Moose over Anchorage.”  This autumn marked the tenth year I have been going up to photograph the moose during the rut as they gather in Chugach State Park near the abundant trail system in the hillside area of Anchorage that spawns from the Glen Alps trailhead.  During those many years, a great several of which I have spent with my good friend Nick Fucci, I have envisioned capturing an image of a large bull moose in the foreground and the downtown skyline of Anchorage in the background.  Not only did I finally find the perfect vantage point this last autumn, but found a cooperating bull moose as well. 

Fall Colors and Denali, Sunrise.”  I spent Labor Day weekend up at the Denali Backcountry Lodge in Kantishna.  It was my third time there as a presenter, and sixth time to the lodge in a ten-year period.  But it was Michelle’s first time at the lodge.  On our way out of the park, we stopped to watch and capture sunrise on Denali (Mt. McKinley) just past Wonder Lake.  The light was perfect, the fall colors were at peak; it was perhaps the best morning I have ever had for photographing The Mountain at sunrise. 

Collared Pika Snack.”  While Nick was up visiting for his annual fall moose safaris and Redoubt Mountain Lodge bear workshop, we spent some time up in Hatcher Pass in September climbing amoung the rocks in a boulder field to capture the elusive collard pika.  We had a great day with some bright diffuse light and several active pika, giving Nick and I plenty of opportunities to photograph the enjoyable rodent.  While Nick has countless superb images of pika in his library, this was the best day I had experienced yet in photographing the collared pika.

These images are all available for purchase in the new “Best of 2011” gallery on my website.

Windows of Opportunity

Monday, November 28th, 2011
Windows of Opportunity

Sometimes life gets in the way and you cannot get out and shoot as much as you like.  I had not yet been out to photograph since snow fell on the ground here in the lower part of Anchorage a month ago, so I determined I would get up early on Saturday and head out.  The conditions looked good in the morning; skies to the east and west were dark and clear, with stars twinkling throughout.  With a 9:33 sunrise, I headed out just after 8:00 toward the Turnagain Arm, one of my favorite staples for morning photo locations.  Living in south Anchorage also makes me lean toward that southerly destination.

But as I approached the Turnagain Arm while heading south on the Seward Highway, I could increasingly see that the Arm was enshrouded in clouds.  I decided to keep going, hoping that I would see some windows in the clouds that would allow the sun to shine through once it rose.  I had to get all the way to Girdwood before I was able to see any such opening, and even then, it only was wide enough to show just a pair of peaks across the Turnagain Arm in the Kenai Mountains.  I kept going, looking for more openings, but as I continued southeast and ultimately down Portage Valley, the clouds simply grew thicker, more even, and lower.  My best hope was the pair of exposed peaks back up by Girdwood.

I headed back toward Girdwood and found a good vantage point where I could see the two peaks, stopping once to capture a moody scene of the arm and the cloudy landscape.  Once the sun finally rose, it sidelight the two peaks, showing a hint of alpenglow.  I captured a few images, and started to work my way home.  I still held out hope that, as I approached the mouth of the Arm, broken clouds would allow light to come through.

My hopes were fulfilled, for as I approached Bird Ridge, I started to see more glimpses of sunlight here and there; broken shafts offering narrow bands of sunlight on mountain ridges, or glowing highlights of mountains through thinning clouds.  I stopped at Indian Valley, Bird Creek, and past Beluga Point near McHugh Creek.  While I was not able to capture the alpenglow first light I had hoped for, the scattered clouds and shafts of light provided more than enough drama for any landscape photographer to be happy about.

Capturing autumn’s colors

Monday, October 17th, 2011
Capturing autumn's colors

One of the focuses of landscape photography in the autumn is obviously the amazing colors as the world around us transitions from summer to winter.  We dream of capturing those amazing, broad landscapes that are exploding with golds, oranges and reds.  For some parts of the country, those colors are a matter of pride, and lots of money in tourism dollars.  If you live somewhere where you can capture those vast, dramatic landscapes, then most certainly do it.  But, don’t limit yourself there.

Capturing color can be accomplished in a variety of ways, in magical golden light of the morning and evening, as well as overcast light.  There are several different compositional and technical approaches that provide some diversity in your images as you capture color.

First, think of the elements of design for color as shown on the classic color wheel.  Look to combine colors that are on the opposite side of the wheel from each other: blue and gold, red and green.

Second, think about maybe adding some movement to your colors.  There are two techniques that I employ: one where the camera is still, the other where the camera is moving.  For the first, place your camera on a tripod and compose your image to focus on something that is moving and has color, like leaves on a tree during a breeze.  Set your ISO to 100, aperture to f/22 or higher, and exposure to aperture priority.  If it is still too bright to get to 1/30 or lower, add a Polarizing filter, which will take away a stop-and-a-half of light.  For the other method of creating color, simply hand-hold your camera under the same settings, point at some color, and then move the camera during the exposure or zoom the lens in or out during the exposure.

A third way to capture color is to capture the reflections of color rather than the trees directly.  During a recent photo outing to Potter Marsh in the Anchorage Coastal Wildlife Refuge, I photographed such reflections while only including grasses in the image, not the trees creating the color.  One of the common misconceptions when composing an image is that you have to include a whole subject in order to capture the subject.  Art often allows the viewer to “fill in the blanks,” to insert their own interpretation into the work.  Photography is just the same.  Another additional element that can be great to include in these reflection compositions is movement, such as a stream or river that has fall colors reflecting on it.

Of course, while creating these compositions, still consider all of the other elements of design that make for a strong photograph: leading lines, S-curves, textures, repeating patterns.  Being a good photographer involves always controlling everything, as much as is possible, that is within your viewfinder.  The more you learn to see compositions, the better you can become in photographing them.

 

Massive water

Sunday, May 22nd, 2011
Massive water

I have seen some big water over the years.  I have sailed across and around the Pacific Ocean.  I have driven across the Yukon River.  I have hiked the shores of Lake Superior.  But I have never seen such a massive convergence of water and gravity such as Victoria Falls on the Zambezi River in Zambia.

Known locally as Mosi-o-Tunya (the Smoke that Thunders), Victoria Falls lies on the border between Zambia and Zimbabwe and is considered one of the Seven Natural Wonders of the World. It can be rather challenging to photograph, as the spray coming off the falls is pretty immense.  Best times are when there is absolutely no breeze; I noticed a sharp difference in photo opportunities from my first breezy evening and my second attempt, a calm morning.  There are several vantage points from which to photograph the falls, the Zambezi River as it flows toward the falls, and the nearby Victoria Falls Bridge, or Livingstone Bridge.  In fact, the bridge is the direction you want to be pointing your lens when the first light washes across the land.

Tips for photographing the falls are the same for any waterfall.  Protect your gear, as the spray can be pretty intense; I had to frequently check the face of my lens for water droplets.  Use a graduated neutral density filter before sunrise or at sunset to balance the exposure between the shaded area of the falls and the sky.  When the sun comes up and the light strikes the top of the falls, simply slide your GND filter down on your brackets to cover the entire face of your lens.  Then, you will still be able to use a slower shutter speed in the brighter lighting conditions.

Brief stop at the South Rim

Wednesday, April 13th, 2011
Brief stop at the South Rim

I fit just enough time in my Arizona trip for an overnight stay at the South Rim of Grand Canyon National Park.  I had never visited the South Rim before, and wanted to take the opportunity to scout some locations in the hopes of returning some day.  I found out the hard way that it is nearly impossible to scout the South Rim in such a short period of time.

The Grand Canyon runs roughly east-to-west, with some twists and turns here and there.  This means that in order to capture the light at the correct angle in the morning or evening, each location will have a preferred time of year to photograph.  The sun does not always set in the west or rise in the east.  Depending on the time of year, it may rise in the northeast or the southeast, and set in the northwest or southwest.  This will in turn change the angle of the sun vis-à-vis the intended subject.  In the Grand Canyon, this is complicated by the steep canyon walls.  Thus, in order to get that glorious reddish first light on a subject, you need to be at the right location at the right time of year in order to have the sun rise at the right location to where it will shine down into the canyon at first light.

Based on recommendations by a photographer who had been to the South Rim many times, I selected the Desert View pullout for sunset and Yavapai Point for sunrise.  Unfortunately, neither provided the result I was looking for.  I think this is perhaps because the photographer said these were good locations for winter, but had not considered how much the sun angle changes as the seasons transition through spring and into summer. While they were great for shots looking directly into the sun for sunset or sunrise, neither provided the light on the subject that I sought.  For Desert View, by the time the sun started to produce the warm, reddish hues that make evening light magical, most of the subject was in shadow.  For sunrise, at first light, there was only a tiny sliver of light that shone on the subject.  But, about twenty minutes after sunrise, there was plenty of light washing across the scene at Yavapai Point; it simply was not the magical first light that photographers get up early to see and capture.

But, the visit to the Grand Canyon did bring with it a couple of other lessons.  First, I will never, EVER, visit the park in the summer.  There were already too many people visiting there for my taste, and it was only early April.  When I drove into the park at 5:00 a.m., one of the entrance gates was already staffed.  I cheerily greeted the park ranger at the gate, and joked, “Wow, this is the earliest staffed park gate I have ever seen.”  When he did not respond, I queried, “So, how early do you staff the gate?”  When I thought I had misheard his rather perplexing response, I asked him to repeat it: “I’m not allowed to tell you that.”  Wow, I thought.  Do I really want to visit a park that is so paranoid about getting all of its entrance fees out of its millions of visitors that they are secretive about when they staff the gates?  But I think that photographically, the dead of winter might be more interesting, as well. I always find that snow adds a great contrasting element, especially with the red colors of the rock and the blue of the sky.  I have found this to be true during my visits to Bryce Canyon National Park in the winter.

Second, I learned that the thing that we treasure the Grand Canyon for – its visual beauty – is being seriously undermined by pollution, primarily from southern California.  While I am accustomed to seeing some hazy landscapes in the summer in Alaska, that is from our frequent forest fires.  It is not a constant state of being.  But the Grand Canyon is constantly inundated with pollution, with some days being worse than others.  I think I was there on a good day, based on some of the photos they had on display at the Yavapai Point Geology Center.

These images and more are available in my Newest Images gallery.

Around the Page and Glen Canyon area

Tuesday, April 12th, 2011
Around the Page and Glen Canyon area

The desert southwest is simply magnificent country.  Sure, Alaska is pretty amazing, don’t get me wrong.  But we do not have the diversity of rock formations that you can find in the desert southwest, particularly in canyon country.  (Note, another magnificent area for rock formations is Joshua Tree National Park, California.)  During my visit to northern Arizona, I spent some time exploring various rock formations south of Page near Highway 89, and then across the Colorado River over on the Utah side of the Glen Canyon National Recreation Area.

As with most landscape photography situations, the best time to photograph was at first light and last light, with clouds and storms not only adding drama but frequently injecting the colors necessary to make the image successful.  I often find that the landscape composition will be more interesting by incorporating various “rules” of composition.  One such rule or guidance is to create what is called a “near-far” composition – placing a prominent image in the foreground while showing the expansive landscape in the background.  Another such rule or guidance is to use leading lines to draw the eye of the viewer into the subject.

All of these images and more are now available in my Newest Images gallery.

Slot Canyon Country

Monday, April 11th, 2011
Slot Canyon Country

One of the reasons you go to Page, Arizona as a landscape photographer is that it is centrally located to access several very accessible slot canyons in the region.  Slot canyons are formed primarily through flash flooding and severe winds, whipping through and carving deep into sandstone bedrock.  Given that water is the primary force shaping slot canyons, it is no wonder that the many forms within these slot canyons are rather fluid in appearance.

Most people who come to Page looking for slot canyons visit Upper Antelope Canyon, located on the south side of State Highway 98 near the Navajo Generating Station, a massive, three-stack coal-fired power plant.  Both Upper and Lower Antelope Canyon are located on Navajo land, requiring a minor entry fee of $6 plus a guiding or usage fee.  With Upper Antelope Canyon, called Tse’ bighanilini (“the place where water runs through rocks”) by the Navajo, our guiding fee of $40 went to a family-owned Navajo guiding operation.  Our guide was Jamie, who did a great job at pointing out photo-worthy features, keeping other tourists at bay while our shutters were open, and assisting in moving our camera bags along with us.  Upper Antelope may be the more expensive of the two Antelope Canyons, but it is the most visited because it is flat and wide.  I found it to be my least favorite of the three slot canyons I visited during my trip.

Lower Antelope Canyon, called Hazdistazi (“spiral rock arches”) by the Navajo, in contrast, is entirely self-guided.  Unlike the two hour limitation for Upper Antelope Canyon, the fee for Lower Antelope Canyon (just on the other side of the highway from Upper) included four hours of time in the canyon.  (This four-hour coverage was being reduced to two hours shortly after our visit, but you could still stay longer so long as you paid an extra five dollars – well worth it.)  Lower Antelope can be challenging to maneuver in when you are carrying a tripod and camera and toting around a backpack-style camera bag on your back.  You enter the canyon through a narrow slot in the ground (as opposed to a wide, walk-in entrance at Upper Antelope) and then make your way down into the canyon through a series of metal ladders and steps, all of which are rather steep.  Almost immediately, though, I was struck by how different and more diverse the compositions were in Lower Antelope.  I ended up spending over three hours in the canyon, limited only by how the light had become rather unfavorable, as it was approximately 12:30 when I left the canyon.  Early morning and late afternoon are the best times to visit the canyon.

My third visit, and second favorite canyon while in Page, was to Waterholes Canyon, accessible from a trail starting at mile marker 538 on Highway 89.  I had visited there the last time I was in Page in October 2001 with my friend Andrew VonBank.  My memories from that first visit were that while it was a cool hike into the canyon, there was not much to photograph.  My ability to find so many more compositions during this visit is a testament to how much I have grown as a photographer in the intervening 9 1/2 years.  Like Lower Antelope Canyon, the best time to visit Waterholes is early in the morning.  I started my hike into the canyon at 7:00 a.m.

The reason for the early morning or late afternoon visit to these canyons is the time of year and the angle of the sun.  What makes slot canyon photography successful is when you have direct sunlight that is shining against one wall, and reflecting light onto another.  You do not want to photograph any compositions that include the sky, as the exposures are long in the canyon, sometimes as long as thirty seconds.  Instead, you want to compose and crop in-camera in such a way that you are seeing both shaded and reflected light areas, thus providing the contrast of cool and warm tones.  Sunny skies mean clear skies and the deep shade of blue that comes with them.  That blue reflects in the shaded areas of the canyon, providing blue and purple hues.  The reflected light is always a warm gold or reddish-orange.

To get the long exposures necessary to be successful, select an ISO no greater than 100, set your aperture to f/22 or greater, and adjust exposure compensation in such a way to avoid clipping at the highlights or shadows.  If you are not getting long enough exposures, add a polarizing filter or neutral density filter to slow down your shutter even more.

All of these images are available in my Newest Images gallery.

A cloudy start

Friday, April 8th, 2011
A cloudy start

So, after twenty hours of travel – sixteen by air (which includes a seven-hour layover in Seattle) and four on the road – I found myself in colder weather than I had left behind in Anchorage.  Given that my last impression of Phoenix was 100 degree weather in early May, I was a bit surprised.  It got worse when I arrived in my destination of Page, tucked away in the far northwest corner of the state.  I spent my first evening photographing some wonderful tilted sedimentary strata and juniper trees near milemarker 538 on Highway 89, just south of Page.  It was rather bitterly cold and windy, with an unappealing overhanging blanket of overcast sky.  Don’t get me wrong, cloudy skies are not necessarily bad for landscapes.  As long as there is texture in there, it can be made to work.  So, I did what I could to minimize the skies: cropping out the bleak gray as much as possible, while still leaving some sky, and minimizing the “hot spot” of the overcast by using a 2-stop graduated neutral density filter.

The next morning started out bleak.  The plan was to photograph the sunrise down at the Horseshoe Bend of the Colorado River, near milemarker 545, only two miles south of Page.  But I awoke to falling snow, which, by the time I got to the parking lot at the trialhead to Horseshoe Bend, it was thick and blowing sideways.  But, one of my standing orders for photography is to not allow bad weather to deter my plans.  While the skies did not part and the sun did not come out, at least it stopped snowing and the clouds lifted to allow me to photograph the Horseshoe Bend and its features.  The soft light made for some nice, even lighting over the landscape.

These images and more are available in my Newest Images gallery.

A hike into winter’s stark beauty

Friday, February 4th, 2011
A hike into winter's stark beauty

I am increasingly becoming very fond of taking afternoon hikes on the Anchorage Coastal Wildlife Refuge in the winter.  The refuge wraps around the western side of Anchorage, from Point Woronzof all the way down past Potter Marsh.  While trekking out onto it in the summer time is generally not recommended, as the glacial silt often has a quicksand-like quality to it, winter is a completely different story.  The frozen, snow-covered surface offers a rather stable surface for exploring.  However, for any time of the year, it is best to go at low tide.  Not only is it safer and offers a larger area to explore, it is a transformed into a magical boulder field of stranded, large chunks of ice, waiting for the next high tide to be liberated and back en route to the Gulf of Alaska via the Cook Inlet.

I chose Kincaid Park as my point of entry.  Until the new Campbell Creek preserve is completed and ready for use, Kincaid Park offers the best access to the heart of the refuge.  You could enter and hike down from Point Woronzof, but that lies on the northernmost portion of the refuge.  Plus, the area out from Kincaid Park is rather expansive at low tide.  Once you hike down the trail from the chalet, there are several access trails leading down the bluff to the flats of the refuge.  With my camera gear tucked inside of my Lowe Pro Orion AW bag and my tripod strapped underneath, I headed down, carrying my snowshoes in case the snow was deep and unmanageable on the coast.  As it turned out, I did not need them.

I reached the bluff and shuffled down its steep slopes to the mudflats, looking out onto a vast, flat expanse of snow and ice crystals, with a line of ice boulders in the distance.  At that line is where I would find the swift moving waters of a still-outgoing tide, where deeper channels allowed the broken ice of winter to keep flowing past.  While the sun was still up and casting a late pinkish alpenglow hue on the snow, I photographed some of the grasses growing along what is presumably a sandbar, looking to the north and the trio of Foraker, Hunter and Denali.  As the sun reached its destination on the horizon, I focused on a couple of grounded ice boulders and the background elements of the sun and Mt. Redoubt, which I could see was spouting off some steam that was nicely backlit by the sun.  Even after the sun went down, I continued to work.  I find that the post-sunset hues of dusk offer some of the best colors in the winter, and the slower shutter speed allowed me to capture the movement of the ice and water as it sped past me.

My only company during the entire time was a cow and calf moose that came along, working their way from the south and up into Kincaid Park.  Otherwise, I was completely alone and isolated in a magical winter landscape, a few minutes drive (after a half hour hike back up to the car) from the heart of a nearly 300,000 population city.  The only way I even knew I was near a city from this vantage point was the frequent movement of aircraft overhead, working their way either to Ted Stevens Anchorage International Airport or Merrill Field.  I could not think of a better place to live.

Sunrise photos from western Maui

Wednesday, January 5th, 2011
Sunrise photos from western Maui

One of the advantages of being on Maui in the winter from a photographic standpoint is that it is still possible to capture the sunrise, even if staying on the west side of the island.  While not as pronounced as it is in Anchorage, the sun rises and sets in a more southerly direction.  In addition, the morning sun lights up the nearby islands of Lanai and Molokini, offering good, lighted background subjects while the crashing surf is still in the shade. 

Since we have rented snorkeling gear from Maui Dive Company, half of our mornings have been spent snorkeling.  Because of the trade winds, the surf can get pretty choppy by late morning, creating hazardous conditions and silty waters.  By being in the water by 7:00 a.m., we have the best conditions and generally no competition for a good snorkeling spot.  In the other mornings, I have been in search of good first light locations.  In our first morning, we caught a good sunrise at La Perouse Bay.  Then, we stopped to catch the surf breaking on rocks at the Ahihi-Kina’u Natural Preserve.  Yesterday, we went to Big Beach, which is south of Makena, to photograph the sunrise and enjoy watching the incoming surf.  The angle of the light was a challenge, forcing me to photograph the landscape with my own shadow in order to get the compositions I wanted.  I will have to spend some time in Photoshop afterward to remove the shadow.  That is work for later.  Right now, I am on vacation.