Northern California autumn has arrived punctually on the first few days of October. Its entrance has provided me time to take a look at some of the photos I've had developed from the first half of the year. It's hard to look back too fondly when I cherish the present season too much, but I feel with my reinvigorated pursuit of film photography I've scored some nice shots (by means of sheer quantity if nothing else).

I shot with a Minolta X-700, my parents' old Minolta X-370, and a Nikon L35 using an assortment of Ilford HP5, Kodak Ultramax and some kooky locally-branded stuff I got in Vietnam. Unfortunately, the development lab I send my rolls to didn't include the notes I had written on the side so I can't exactly piece together what I was using to the result. Some further experimentation will be needed to hone the craft.

But inevitably 90% of my photos are pretty bullshit and that's okay. I'm generally not willing to take more than a compact point-and-shoot camera when travelling. So, without further ado, here's what that level of effort has yielded.

Winter weather, as seems to be the case in Northern California, came pretty late in the year for us. Following the false spring that seems to appear just for the week of the local Mardi Gras parade, we got freezing temperatures as soon as the fruit trees begin to bud. The plum tree had a weak harvest this year but I guess the apple trees didn't seem to mind.

This year's snow (as opposed to 2023's snow was hardly enough to cover the driveway. It made for good building, though and I cobbled together a snow penguin. I tried to find an excuse to bring out the snowblower but the sun took my work away from me this year

Around December each year, hundreds of thousands of snow geese (Anser caerulescens) pass through the Sacramento Valley on their way to overwintering spots. Last year I went with my mom down to the Colusa National Wildlife Refuge to see for myself. I was not disappointed. The fairly dense tree canopy of my home county means it's rare to see large flocks of birds even during migratory seasons. It was dreamlike to see (and hear) thousands upon thousands of squonking birds on the wing and the water.

While we never managed to spot a tundra swan, there were plenty of other dazzling avians to fill up our Merlin lifelists. There were a pair of turkey vultures on a high-voltage transmission tower, killdeer skittering on the path, and ducks-- so many ducks. As we were heading back along the trail, I caught sight of a coyote slinking along a creek, heading home for the day and disappearing perfectly beneath a rock.

It's almost that time of year again. I'd love to go again to sit in the peaceful cacophony of the flooded valley.

Early in the year, a visiting friend of my parents motivated us to travel due west to a little tourist town on the Russian River called Guerneville. It was perhaps an odd choice to visit during the moist and windy winter, but I certainly didn't mind! I had the opportunity to slide into a mushroom foraging event at Westminster Woods, the coolest-looking summer camp I've ever witnessed. I spent more time talking to people about mushrooms (and their lives) than looking at mushrooms, but I think that's kinda the point.

Of course if we were going to go all the way out to Guerneville, we'd need to finish the job and see the blustery, foggy, drizzly coast of the Sonoma Coast State Park. We got two of those for sure, but the kite I packed for the occasion couldn't catch the breeze despite seeming like it could almost get wedged up in the fog. Definitely had some kind of light-leak going on here!

Honestly I burned a lot of rolls in the spring trying to take a good picture of Chex the cat. She's always around the house, comes when she's called, and loves being held, but I've been having the damnedest time getting a good picture that captures her character. So here she is looking like a criminal on a CCTV still.

Flowers are much easier to photograph. Flowers stay still. Buttermilk Bend along the South Yuba River, has an exquisite array of lupine and other wildflowers in the spring and wild birds year-round. The trails were busy when we went, but seemingly no one at the visitor center noticed the dozens of butterflies latching on to the lilac bushes.

Outside of a work trip I'd taken while I was an intern (and a foggy memory that is thanks to the nights of intoxicated revelry, I hadn't taken a proper trip to San Diego since moving to California until this year. As avid zoological garden fans and subscribers to the high quality Journal of the San Diego Zoo, it was only natural that our family would spend an inordinate amount of time at their two sprawling parks. Going during weekdays while school is in session is recommended! We're savouring the flexible schedules of preschool while we can.

Around the time I moved to this area, another family had purchased an old farm and began building it up-- vegetables and berries for sale to local restaurants and farmers markets, seeds for distant buyers. Over the years I came to visit on ag tours and U-pick berry events. The couple is very nice but they were also incredibly candid about the farm life-- they were really just breaking even despite busting their asses.

They initially raised goats for milk and fiber, but the growing need for vegetation management in the area has meant there's been a greater demand for goats being unfussy eaters. So what was a quaint herd of 20 goats has exploded into an absolute assembly of ruminants. They've even given up on naming all but the most charimatic (or notorious) fellows. This spring they welcomed several dozen kids (goats) and several dozen kids (children) to come play at their first annual goat U-pet.

I love goats and being able to hold one in my lap was honestly better than having to take care of my own goats. I'd happily rent a goat to cuddle for an hour rather than pay for one and have to defend it from predatory animals. My son wasn't as keen on petting the goats but was talking about the event for days afterwards.

Those farmers know how to make ends meet: the vegetables and berries paint a pretty pastoral, but the land stewardship services and tourism pay the bills.

While I'm not the biggest fan of beach vacations, it'd been a while since I'd hung out with my extended family and I have wonderful memories of beach vacations as a kid so I figured the toddler would enjoy it too. I crammed as much of Gulf: A History of an American Sea before and during the trip, absorbing the much forgotten pre-history of the Gulf Coast, the antics of luckless Spaniard conquistadors, and the eventual melding of distinct peoples into a hardy culture. I honestly couldn't finish the book though. It got so depressing as the author approach discussions of modern times. Seeing the heedless development and rampant littering on the island motivated me to go on trash cleanups along the beach and streets each day. But it was hot as fuck even in June.

Fortunately, my son got used to the water and his cousins by the end of the week. Everyone had fun, especially with the amount of booze flowing. Between the beering hours I was able to find quiet moments to take in the sea breeze and what is left of the natural environment on the island. The next time my family wants to get together I'm going to insist on somewhere cold.

My son has been interested in taking pictures since before he was potty trained. He has brought along his little digital camera on every trip we've taken. Even though it took a little dip in the tide pool at the Birch Aquarium, his photos survived the plunge!

Of course, the digital camera isn't as exciting as dad's lever-action SLR with it's satisfying mechanical shutter. While not as many photos on these rolls were L- specials (compared to the 10 shots of a Saigon taxi interior in the last rolls I had developed, he managed to take a couple bangers.

And that's pretty much the highlights of these rolls. Cheers from your ever-procrastinating blog author.