It’s the season of grey and black and white… it gets light as I arrive at the Orvis headquarters, and it’s pretty solid blackness by the time I leave. We’re working on summer catalogs, and I find myself drifting off into dreams of foam hoppers and caddis swarms and wet wading while sitting at my desk.
Let’s just say the hope of trips to come is a glorious thing.
On a questionable high note, we’ve experienced wind chills well in the -20F, prompting somewhat cheery memories of cold mountain nights out West. Current workload dictates a lot of after-hours Orvis work, so when you get that spring or summer catalog know that I wrote and edited parts of it at 11PM or midnight, ensconced on my couch wearing flannel pjs, hot tea and a space heater nearby.
The Orvis Adventures travel catalog has finally hit the streets, and on page 9 you can find an article giving you five tips to up your travel photography—basic tenets but true; they are all things I’m constantly reminding myself of.
I did make an effort to get out for a hike last weekend, amid several inches of newly-fallen slush, and played with a bit of black and white work. Nothing quite like the dullness of winter to make one think about laying out an image—none of that summertime run-and-gun stuff here.
Plans are evolving for a late May striper trip off Martha’s Vineyard again (woot!) and am getting ready to attend the Fly Fishing Show in Somerset, New Jersey in a few weeks. If anyone is going to be there, look me up! Leaving gaps in my schedule for meetings that seem to keep popping up, and would love to meet up with anyone who is around.
Adding some new gear—the arrival of a new camera body has unexpectedly made me realize what a good working relationship I have with my current one. Lots of miles, lots of adventures. It’s like a best friend who knows exactly how it all goes down. Catching up on editorial work, and am honored to have work coming out in some pretty rad publications over the next few months (hint, hint… check out Southern Culture on the Fly when the winter issue comes out tomorrow). Overall, life is 80+ hour workweeks and it’s all crazy. And it works.
So, as this is one of my perhaps least-interesting Vermont Chronicles posts in a while, I’ll leave you with some words I have scrawled on my “war board” at home. Perhaps fitting for the first few weeks of the year.
i have known the taste of salt water,
and the smell of decaying forests,
and the cracks in hundreds of sidewalks.
i have loved the gas pedal,
and the airport concourse,
and the ever-changing time zones.
in all of these places,
i thought i could find a home in not having one;
i have chased the sun across the sky so many times,
not yet ready to admit,
you never catch up.
– Unknown
