Tuesday, January 23, 2018

TRUMAN WEARS THE PANTS (Confessions of a Photographer's Wife)



            When we decided to bring our little motor home out of mothballs and give it its shake-down cruise this Spring, we considered our options of where to go.  Living in the “lower 48” opens up a whole new world of places to explore and, since we love the ocean, we opted for a campground next to the beach near a little town called Ocean City, WA.  Turns out it’s next to the town of Copalis, which stirs happy childhood memories for Jim, since he and his family spent many fun weekends there, playing on the beach and drinking chocolate sodas.
            As we begin preparations, I remember the one challenge with taking the whole shebang, including Truman, to the sand.  It seems when Jim shoots photos on the beach, he sometimes neglects to watch the water which, in due course, squirts around his feet and onto the adjacent legs of Truman, who strangely enough doesn’t like sand and salt very much.
            The upshot of the adventure is a flurry of screwdrivers, hoses, towels, and slightly blue language from my otherwise calm spouse.   There must be a solution so we set about thinking and researching.  Naturally, we aren’t surprised when we come upon PLASTIC TRIPOD LEG PROTECTORS in our search.  Turns out that some ingenious person, tired off scraping off the sand, invented the gadget that could have made me rich!  I’m sure I’d have thought of it sooner or later.  Thanks to one of the online photo suppliers, a pair of the protectors is soon on the way. 
            As I’ve gotten to know Truman, I’ve come to recognize that he’s really rather particular about certain things, and the idea of plastic leg protectors just doesn’t appeal to such a proper tripod, so I decide that we’ll just call them tripod pants.  After all, that’s really what the inventor should have called them in the first place.  It’s so much more dignified.
            At last the day arrives and we’ve got everything packed.  Truman has his own place of honor, just behind my seat where he’s safe and easily retrievable.  Never forget that he’s my hero since he saved Jim from tumbling into the Grand Canyon last month.
            Our campground is a short hike from the beach, and we’re thrilled to find decent weather and a wide beach, littered with moulted crab shells and broken sand dollars.  Eagles are soaring and there are lots of cute little sandpipers scurrying hither and yon, making for some pretty neat shots.  Truman, ever the trooper, is a bit shy when we fit his new trousers, but at the end of the day, he’s happy that he won’t have to undergo the surgery previously necessary to remove sand and salt.
            After a few days of beachcombing, we set off for home, vowing to stop at all the places with signs leading to “Largest Cedar” and “Largest Douglas Fir.”  Boy are we glad we did! The “Quinault Lake Redcedar” is 174 feet tall with a circumference of 61 feet.  Nearby is the Coast Douglas Fir rising to 281 feet with a circumference of 42 feet.   Then there’s the Quinault Lake Spruce at 191 feet and 55 feet.  Talk about a challenge for a wide-angle lens and an adjustable tripod.  Thankfully Truman is able to bend his neck to all kinds of oblique angles but the truth is, we’re all humbled by God’s creation.  Natural wonders like this simply defy description.

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