It might be better not to post this image till it's proper date, but I'm looking forward to some sunnier skies and warmer weather. Soon people will be sitting at the Viewpoint, reading books and even picnicking.

The Sentinel, Mar 20, 2011

Copyright © 2011 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved

Sometimes the mist rises from below, even in the late summer or early autumn. I suppose the patch of haze in the upper lefthand corner of this picture is nothing but the light of the nearby lantern. I should have used a hood around my lens, but I didn't happen to bring one with me.

Picnickers, Maybe September, 2010

Copyright © 2010 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved

There was plenty of sunshine to go around yesterday. Two girls were having a picnic on a blanket. The dandelions and daisies were in bloom, and dog-walkers came and went non-stop.

Two Girls Picnicking, Apr. 11, 2010

Copyright © 2010 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved

Skateboarders and Picnickers

The weather is perfect today, and at the Viewpoint, things couldn't have been better. I could have stayed there all afternoon and evening, if I hadn't had other things to get to. The beautiful weather brought the people out. There were enough that I'm quickly forgetting how many I saw, especially since I didn't count them, and I'm losing many of the other details I tried to commit to memory. When I arrived, there were just two people, I think: two boys, both wearing white T-shirts, on skateboards. I felt a little bad setting up my tripod, because I felt that in their minds, once an adult was there, doing something that involves holding still, the atmosphere probably changed. But they kept on doing their skateboard stunts, and then a third boy joined them. He was wearing a black shirt. The other two were in jeans, it seems to me, but the one in the black shirt had on plaid pants. Around the same time he showed up, a couple came walking in from the south end of the park. They sat down at the bench directly across from the point where I've taken at least thirty percent of my Viewpoint photos over the years, as well as painted a large percentage of my Viewpoint paintings. The young woman told the guy, "No! These aren't the Olympics!" and laughed. I guess he was from out of town. I took a few shots and then moved my tripod closer to the edge, and in the direction of the laurel tree enclosure, which I think of as a sort of perch. Then another couple came along--a man and a woman whom I've seen many, many times over the years. I had a very interesting conversation with them. The woman said that she's often thought that if they put prisons in places with wonderful views, the outcome would be much better than it is. I have to agree. I told the couple how often I've seen people at the Viewpoint who are obviously in grief--coping with the loss of a loved one or some other tragic circumstances. I think they go there to be soothed by the beauty of the scene and also for the perspective the place gives. When you see such a huge expanse of reality, you're reminded that you're just a small piece of something so very much larger.

There were many other people who came through the park while I was there, and I only remember a fraction of them. For some reason I remember very vividly the shirt one woman was wearing it was brown with orange rims around the short sleeves, the waist and neck. And I remember that as I left, there was another family on a picnic blanket, again with a baby. In my experience, sitting on a picnic blanket isn't the most comfortable way to eat a meal, but there's something so romantic about it. And it's no wonder Manet and Cezanne were interested in portraying picnickers. A group of people spread out in a small area while eating makes for a scenario that's potentially very interesting from the standpoint of both composition and human social interaction.

Memory Game

I'm always testing my memory. As I passed through the Viewpoint on my bicycle today, I looked to see how many people there were, what they looked like, what they were doing and what they were wearing. I didn't take any notes. Now, about half an hour later, I'm going to see how much I remember.

On the bench just southwest of the laurel tree was a couple, maybe in their sixties, who looked like they might have been from another country, or at least another city. They were looking at a map or a guidebook and, I think, trying to identify the different things they saw in the distance. Maybe it was mountains they were pointing to.

On a blanket spread out close to the edge, between the Lovers and the Sentinel was a group of five people. There was a man in his thirties or forties with a little baby on his lap in the upper right corner, another man, who had glasses and short gray hair and a bit of a beard--or maybe just stubble--in the upper left corner, and then two women with blond hair, about shoulder length, in the lower right corner and lower left corner. The baby--a boy, I think--was dressed in bright red. The two women's hair was similar enough that I wonder whether they might not have been sisters. And maybe the men were their husbands. I've forgotten what clothing any of them was wearing, but it seems to me the blanket may have had some sort of plaid pattern. By "upper right corner," etc., I mean in relation to where I was as I looked at the group. I was more or less to the west of them, in other words, further from the edge, out on the walkway that runs the length of the Viewpoint. What a wonderful painting this scene would make!

Just entering the park, coming around the curve of the edge, was a woman with a dog on a leash. The dog was smallish, but not super-small. It looked like it was at least part terrier. The woman had on a brown top with a white or cream-colored vest over it.

It was sunny at the Viewpoint. The Sentinel was partly in shade, and it was casting a shadow to its west.

I wish I could remember more.