The Parable of Insensible Shoes

I love shoes.  One of my favorites is a pair of purple-soled Kensies I’d purchased for my first trip to Europe several years ago.  I happened to be wearing those this afternoon when I decided to take the long way home from work with my Nikon.  If they’re good enough for Rue de Paris, they’re good enough for Larrabee State Park, right? 

If I’d stuck to the trail, perhaps. 

I spotted a musician perched on a boulder, overlooking the water with his guitar.   And what was I supposed to do?  Walk barefoot over the rocks to get to him?   And after I’d finished photographing him, was I supposed to ignore the girl who found the starfish on the rocky beach below?

Thank God I have great balance.

I think the moral to this story is to always keep a change of shoes in the car.  The sun actually does come out in the Pacific Northwest on occasion – one must be prepared!

The tunnel that leads to the beach
The musician that lured me to the end of that boulder...a little bit to close to the edge for my comfort (in heels), but I got a great photo!


And who could resist the slight curl of his lip and the gentle stroking of that guitar? Not me!


I had to balance across hundreds of slippery stones to get this. Worth it?


Rock heart someone thoughtfully left for me to find!


Me and my Kensies...taking a little break.


One final snapshot on the way back to the car. The lighting here was darn near perfect!

Last Boarding Call for Jolene Hanson

My flight into New York City was late.  So late, that by the time I exited the aircraft, I was told I would literally need to run to the next gate to get to Ireland.  So I strapped on my backpack, weighed down with a laptop, a Canon 40d, a Nikon, several books, Felix Bobblinghead and everything else I couldn’t live without, and ran a half marathon across JFK.  (Thank God for my fire department training – I was used to the weight!)  I arrived at gate A6 in time to hear, “Paging Jolene Hanson.  Last call for flight 164 to Dublin.”

“I’m here!”  I screamed, waiving my hands.   The male flight attendant grabbed one of them and started running with me all the way to the next aircraft, which I entered sweating and out of breath.   I apologized to the rotund Irish man I was sharing space with for my profuse sweating.  He didn’t seem to mind.

I was doubtful that my checked bag would make it on the flight, but indeed it did.  The luck of the Irish was on my side. 

After a nap, I spent my first day wandering the streets of Dublin, trying to find all of the main attractions I want to visit tomorrow.  I found the buskers and street musicians the most inspiring today, so here you go!  

And some other random stuff…

From the side of the Temple Bar

Cool vanishing point in the Temple Bar area

Today ended with a Guiness at pub listening to live Irish music sitting next to three travelers from Spain and a woman from Chile.   It may have been a very long day, but it was a good one!