Chasing the Light

You’ve heard of storm-chasers.

But Rene and I became light-chasers on Saturday when we hopped in the car at 4 p.m. and decided to try to make it down to Laguna’s Treasure Island Park to take pictures for my new blog, Things to Do in Orange County.

The sun sits low and deep anyway in the fall, which makes fall afternoons the very best times to take photos of anything (especially people, since it makes everyone’s skin look golden) (so if you’re taking family photos for Christmas, take them around 4 p.m. in November!) but the sun was sinking lower and lower at 4 p.m., and I knew it would set at about 5 p.m.

At 4:07, we were on the road, but I had to stop and get gas! Ahhh! At 4:17, we were heading straight down Crown Valley Parkway, which is a long road that takes us straight to Pacific Coast Highway, the main road that runs up and down the California coast.

“It’s a pretty drive anyway,” Rene insisted as I sighed deeply. I was sure we weren’t going to make it, and I kept flooring the accelerator.

But she was right. Chasing the light is all well and good, but it’s important to enjoy the drive along the way. That fall setting sun makes everything gorgeous — all the leaves, all the flowers, everything looks backlit or lit from within. I eased off the gas, stopped racing the lights, and kept glancing at all the foliage along the roadway. It was such a beautiful drive.

We made it into the Treasure Island parking lot at 4:30, found a miraculously perfect space, hopped out of the car, ran to the pay booth to insert our $2, and dashed up the hill to catch what we could catch.

Here’s some of it:




More of it is on the Things to Do in Orange County blog. And the rest (we did get some good sunset/horizon shots!) we plan to try for the Things to Do header.

It was a really nice evening, chasing the light with Rene. …

Fall Saturdays

We’ve been spending our fall Saturdays watching this guy:

Do stuff like this:

And this:

And this:

And, of course, this:

Atta’ boy!

We’re playing in the playoffs today — two games a day. Wish him luck!

UPDATE: We won both games on Saturday! One more game next Saturday morning, then we’ll know the championship standings and may have a championship game Saturday afternoon. Whoo-hoo!

The Story of How I Met Superman, Part 7: Sidling Up to Superman

 This is Part 7 of the story of How I Met Superman. To get caught up, you can find the preceding chapters here.


The month of January rolled along, with me taking surreptitious glances at Superman across the quad, and feeling really sad that my best friend Debi had moved.

I fell back in step with another old friend, who took me in the way old friends do, as if you’ve been some silly little bird that tried to fly the nest.

Dawn and I had been friends a long time — we met back in Girl Scout days — and she was always so much fun. The two of us started attending wrestling matches after school, and basketball games. But we didn’t attend because we liked wrestling matches and basketball games, of course. We attended because boys were there.

Superman, particularly, seemed to favor basketball. Although, honestly, I sometimes followed him to wrestling matches if necessary. I’m not sure if I was there because he was, or if he was there because I was, but we were definitely both there, on the bleachers, sitting with our respective friends – our books stacked beside us because we hadn’t gone home yet, our coats damp from the February rain during the walk to the gym. Dawn was a little more outgoing than I was, and she would start conversations with various groups of friends, or boys we thought were cute.

But I continually had my eye on Superman. I think I tried to talk to him once or twice. But – aside from throwing me a shy grin, which I really started to love – he didn’t speak to me at all. I decided that Keith had no idea what he was talking about: This guy was as far from a player as anyone could imagine. So I would just act my silly, giddy self with Dawn, move my books closer to Superman and his friends, sometimes talk to the guys who were mutual friends of ours. At the end of the game Dawn and I would flounce out of the gym with our umbrellas and musty coats.

In the middle of winter, though, word began going around that Patrick was having a party. And he invited absolutely everyone I knew.

Everyone, that is, except me.

I probably should have been insulted, but it was a bit of a relief.

“It’s fine, Keith,” I said, holding the phone crooked on my shoulder while I painted my toenails on my parents’ bedspread. “I really don’t want to go, anyway. It would be a-w-k-w-a-r-d.”

“He should have invited you,” Keith insisted.

“It doesn’t matter, really.”

“It’s ridiculous.”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“Everyone’s pissed at him.”

“Truly, I don’t care about this at all, and – ”

 “Sanchez will be there.”

My polish brush froze above my last nail.

I thought about not answering, not responding, but Keith was a smart guy.

“Really?” I whispered.

I could hear him chuckling on the other end. “I could get you invited. …”

I sighed. “Okay.”

And, as usual, Keith orchestrated everything. …

Click here for Part 8: Attending the Party I Wasn’t Invited To. …

*Many names changed to protect the Don’t-Want-To-Be-Googled.

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...