Eigg-tricity

Electricity is literally flowing through the air on Scotland's Isle of Eigg. After a history of dependence upon aging diesel-powered generators, the 87 residents of this small island, which lies south of the more prominent single malt whiskey-producing Isle of Skye, finally has a mains type system of reliable and affordable electricity.

In addition to serving as a gentle reminder that even in 2008 there are people in the "first world" nation of Great Britain who are still living without many of the simple things that most of us take for granted, this BBC-reported story had additional personal significance to me. Courtesy of my paternal grandmother, I am an eligible kilt-wearing member of Clan MacDonald and our ancestral home is the Isle of Eigg.

Sheep now graze where tribal battles were once fought between rival clans on this rock that possesses a rugged beauty awaiting our visit and, of course, my camera.

I'm Dreaming of a...White Easter?

It is now two days since Easter Sunday, and I am still scratching my head over the vision that greeted Sarah and I when we awoke that morning. While blooming daffodils, new-born lambs, and other signs of spring have been evident during the past few weeks, it was a wintery blanket of SNOW that covered the whole of Whalley as we made our way to the village parish church. Not exactlly the traditional view of Easter that one is normally used to.

Staying in touch with my "little boy within," I did construct a snow rabbitt (complete with Bugs Bunny-esque ears) out in our rear garden. Hopefully, my icy artwork wasn't too frightful to the blue finches and robin red breasts that have been beginning to visit us lately.

In between the unseasonable snow and aforementioned new-born lambs, our local Leeds & Liverpool canal system is returning to life as weekend skippers are piloting their brightly painted narrowboats through the twists and turns of its scenic waterways. More subject matter for this ever-roving photographer.

Lancashire Life

We have received word from the managing editor of Lancashire Life that a recently submitted article that I authored, along with accompanying photographs is scheduled to be published in the May 2008 edition of this lifestyle magazine. It is an interview with and profile of actor David Ross, co-star of BBC 1's television programme, The Green Green Grass. The very talented and personable David resides here in Lancashire's Ribble Valley, when he is not working on his show in London or "treading the boards" within the theatres of that city's West End. Additional news to follow.

Focus On Imaging

Sarah and I just returned to "home base" after spending a couple of days in Birmingham, where we were at the National Exhibition Centre (NEC) attending the annual Focus On Imaging convention. The organisers bill their event as the largest photographic trade show in all of Europe, and everyone who is anyone, from Adobe to Zeiss, was there to roll out and demonstrate their latest products.

Nikon was a major presence at this year's show, and I had the opportunity to try out their recently released flagship D3 digital camera. I was quite impressed with it. After dissapointingly being against the ropes during the past few years, Nikon has finally rebounded and is coming out of their corner fighting hard against it's very worthy opponant Canon, who had seemed to have all but sewn up the professional photographic market.

The trade press and other publications were visibly present, as well. Sarah and I had an enjoyable conversation with the very personable Will Cheung FRPS, editorial director of both Professional Photographer and Photography Monthly magazines. In addition to his editorial duties, Will is also a very good ambassador for his publication and we'll be looking forward to the opportunity to have even more conversations with him in the future.

BBC "Super Tuesday" Interview

BBC Radio Lancashire invited me into their broadcast studios, earlier this evening. Local broadcaster Brett Davison had me on his radio show to provide the perspective of an American living in Britain on the Super Tuesday presidential primary elections taking place in the United States today.

I have been pleasently surprised at the amount of media coverage that has been given to the U.S. presidential election race in this country; there is a genuine interest in it by the British people. As one person remarked to me recently, "It's not so much the ultimate outcome that interests us, we just like the competition that is taking place." Fair comment from someone who lives in a country that considers football (soccer, to you heathens) a religion that rivals the Church of England.

But, I'd like to sincerely think that the interest goes much deeper than that for most of the people of Britain. Rightly, or wrongly, how Americans eventually vote in November will create a ripple that will be strongly felt here and throughout the rest of the world.

Riverdance (The Ship, Not the Musical)

Gilbert and Sullivan may have written a musical operetta entitled HMS Pinafore, but a real maritime drama has been unfolding in our very own backyard during the past couple of days, which Sarah and I have photographically captured over the weekend, on the coastal shore just north of Blackpool.

On Thursday night, the cargo ferry Riverdance beached herself here after being struck by a large wave that was driven by the gale force winds that have been the bane of local mariners this past week. Riverdance was enroute from Northern Ireland to the port of Heysham, which lies just a few miles north of where she is now stranded.

Personnel from the RAF, Royal Navy, HM Coast Guard, Irish Coast Guard, and the Royal National Lifeboat Institution heroically came to the rescue of the ship's twenty-three crew members and airlifted them off the listing, windswept deck. Thousands of packages of McVities Biscuits have washed ashore from the ship, giving the local gulls a special gastronomical treat. Salvage operations are reportedly planned to commence on Monday.

Additional photo images have already been forwarded to our representatives at Alamy Images.

Snow

Remember that snowfall that I had predicted for Christmas morning? It finally arrived 38 days later and sprinkled itself upon the sleeping village of Whalley overnight. Other parts of Scotland and England have received quite a bit more than just a "sprinkling" of the wet white stuff.

Where's Paul Moyer, Colleen Williams, and Fritz Coleman? I need to hear one of them dramatically proclaiming, "THIS is the Channel 4 News, and we're on STORM WATCH!" Well, if this were Burbank, and not the Ribble Valley, just possibly...

Rain and Wind and Floods...Oh My!

That's right, Toto. Most of Britain as been deluged with what seems to be endless rain, coupled with many of the country's rivers bursting their banks and flooding adjoining communities. Here in the northwest of England, these weather conditions have been magnified by the addition of near-freezing temperatures and gale force winds.

This past week, the River Calder, which flows through the Ribble Valley and our otherwise tranquil village of Whalley, burst its banks as well. With above-average volumes of water flowing from the river's source, miles away in Yorkshire, coupled with the lunar-driven tides of the nearby Irish Sea, the "perfect conditions" for the type of flooding that would get Noah excited with anticipation were set into motion. Many of the homes within our village, along with the historic ruins of Whalley Abbey found themselves partially submerged. Fortuantely, our home lies on higher ground and we were spared the fate of many of our neighbours.

With service suspended along key passenger rail lines, and millions of pounds in financial losses to residential, commercial, and agricultural property, enquiries are once again being directed towards London regarding the investment (or lack of) into the country's flood control infrastructure. Questions are also being raised (again) as to the overall ecological effect of the construction of new housing in this country, and the lack of forward planning for associated side-effects such as the wide-spread flooding just experienced.

In the meantime, Sarah and I are doing our own forward planning. In a few weeks time, we will be attending the Focus On Imaging photographic industry trade convention, at the National Exhibition Centre (NEC), in Birmingham.

Happy Boxing Day

When I was a young lad, I would often notice on calendars that featured international holidays that December 26th was Boxing Day in Great Britain and Canada. How funny, I thought, that there was a holiday devoted to the pugilistic sport practiced by Muhammed Ali, Sugar Ray Robinson, and Rocky Marciano. While a few fists may be swung today by those who prefer a good "pub crawl" over peace on earth and goodwill toward men, this is the day where by Victorian-era tradition the wrapping paper and other remnants from the previous day's festivities are boxed up (and gifts are made to the family's serving staff). Today is also the day when friends venture out and call upon other friends to share in post-Christmas food and libation. Sarah and I shall be partaking in this tradition later today, as we call upon a few of our friends who live in the area.

After the holidays, the Amazing Carnac and I are sending in our turbans and crystal balls for an unscheduled tune-up. Despite our continuing sub and near-freezing temperatures, the Christmas Day snowfall that "we" predicted has instead manifested itself as fog and light rain showers (with ice on the ground) throughout the country.

There was, however, nothing frosty about the Queen's annual Christmas Message. Broadcast yesterday afternoon on the BBC, Her Majesty's very moving words almost brought a tear to my eye. She might just make a monarchist out of this American colonist, yet. With a little technical advice and consultation provided by her two grandchildren, Princess Beatrice and Princess Eugenie of York, Her Majesty has gone "cyber." The speech (plus many other very interesting items) can be viewed on the Queen's new You Tube webpage (http://www.youtube.com/theroyalchannel). In addition to viewing videos of narcissistic teens hurling themselves and their skateboards off speeding locomotives while attempting to evoke the lyrics of Amy Winehouse, visitors to You Tube can now also catch a high-tech glimpse into the life of this country's monarch.

To echo Her Majesty's closing comments, ...And so I wish you all, young and old, wherever you may be, all the fun and enjoyment and the peace of a very happy Christmas.

It's Going To Be A White Christmas

Ice storms are stretching across the midwest section of the United States, and those of us who reside in England's Ribble Valley awoke this morning to find frost on our roofs and a sub-freezing air temperature of 25 degrees Fahrenheit. You don't have to be the Amazing Carnac to figure out that winter has finally arrived. Carnac and I have pressed our turbans together and we predict that the village is going to wake up to a White Christmas of Bing Crosby proportions this year. We had a very similar picture postcard experience two years ago. This photographer is already prepared to capture the Winter Wonderland of England during the coming weeks.

Speaking of Christmas...

Cards and parcels have been sent out during the past few days to all of our family, friends, and other loved ones on both sides of the pond. Between the cooperative efforts of the Royal Mail and the U.S. Postal Service, we're hoping that everything arrives at their intended destinations within the next week.

Au Revoir, Mr. Whipple

I read on the newswires earlier this week that the American actor Dick Wilson had passed away at the age of 91. Dick Wilson was a truly gifted and multi-talented practitioner of his craft, having taken on a quite diverse range of roles on the stage, in television, and in motion pictures throughout his career. Mr. Wilson's eldest daughter Melanie and I were classmates in both junior and senior high school, and his love of the acting craft was instilled into her at an early age. Years later, Melanie and I would often cross paths when I was working for ABC-TV and she was co-starring on one of our situation comedy television programmes.

I find it a bit ironic that the late actor, who was also one of the many unsung flying heroes of the Battle of Britain, was born in Preston, which lies just a few miles south of where Sarah and I now make our home in the Ribble Valley area of Lancashire.

Our condolances go out to Melanie, her mother, brother, and sister. May they be comforted in knowing that he will be missed not only by them but also by a very appreciative audience.

Welcome Back, Michael

Just a quick note. Veteran talk-radio broadcaster and former ABC colleague Michael Jackson begins a new chapter in his long and illustrious broadcasting career this week. Beginning on Monday 29 October, he will be returning to the Los Angeles radio airwaves on KGIL 1260AM. His broadcast will run Monday through Friday, between 9:00am and 11:00am. I encourage everyone in Southern California to tune in. I wish I was back in L.A. just to be able to tune in myself. Hopefully, he'll start podcasting his shows in the future.

Michael was kind enough to send me a brief email over the weekend, as he and his producer Lyle both prepare for Monday morning's inaugural broadcast. I wish the two of them great success. Break a leg, you two.

Bonfires of the Vanities

A random flash fills the night sky and a muffled rapid-fire popping sound finds it's way toward us from a nearby farmer's field. Are we in Baghdad? No, but the night-time sights and sounds of the Lancashire countryside remind me that we must be approaching that very special time of year again.

Next week, on the evening of November 5th, revellers throughout the United Kingdom will be celebrating Guy Fawkes Night, or Bonfire Night as it is commonly known. It commemorates the foiling of the Gunpowder Plot, in which a group of Catholic conspirators, including Guy Fawkes, allegedly attempted to blow up the Houses of Parliament on the evening of 5 November 1605 with the intent of killing the Protestant King James I of England. The conspirators were later arrested, tortured, and executed.

As has been the custom during the past few centuries, fireworks are lobbed into the air and community bonfires are ignited, often fueled by an accumulated collection of surplus wood and contributed items that otherwise would have been destined for the local refuse pit. Sadly, some communities still burn effigies of the Pope and other clerics, in a fervor of anti-catholicism that still darkens the souls of a few that remain unenlightened. Fortunately, they are in the minority.

Prospective photo opportunities beckon, as we will be venturing out with the trusty camera in hand to witness and capture Britain's closest version to the Fourth of July.

A Visit Down South of Titanic Proportions

Sarah and I ventured south to the English coastal region of Hampshire last weekend. This is the land of thatched roof cottages, the breed of hog that bears the area's name, and that mythical kingdom known as Camelot. We had gone there to meet up with some friends from Los Angeles who were spending a couple of days in London, before boarding a Eurostar train destined for Brussels.

We had the pleasure of playing tour guide to Maria and Chris as we drove them around the Salisbury Plain, showing them sites both picturesque and historic in nature. The ancient Druid rock formations of Stonehenge, the grand cathedral in the market town of Winchester, plus King Arthur's alleged roundtable (which is on permanent display in Winchester's Guild Hall), were but a few of the stops on our weekend itinerary that were dutifully captured with my camera.

My better-half and I also made a special journey of our own; one that I have been wanting to do for many years. After registerring into our B&B, the two of us drove to the bustling seaport town of Southampton, with our final destination being the Gate 4 entrance to Ocean Dock. On the tenth day of April, in the year of 1912, a very grand ship bearing the name of Titanic set sail on her maiden voyage from this very dock. A small monument has been erected here in memory of the officers, crew, and passengers who lost their lives five days later. South Western House, the hotel where many of the ship's First Class passengers spent the night prior to the following day's voyage, still stands proudly across the street from the pier; its many windows gazing out across the River Test toward the English Channel and the sea.

Chaucer wrote of pilgrims from this very land, journeying to the cathedral town of Canterbury. A pilgrimage of an entirely different sort was successfully accomplished by this photographer, and it was definitely worth the wait.

Buon Giorno Da Toscano

Sarah and I have just returned from a warm and glorious week in the Tuscany region of Italy, where we had the great joy of witnessing the marriage of our niece Joanna and her husband Dave. Twenty-eight of us made our way south to Italy, where we took up residence at Il Castello di Bibbione, a 1000 year old castle / villa that belongs to a member of the Machiavelli family; a practicing physician when she and her adult daughter are not hosting guests at this wine and olive oil-producing estate.

Our week in Tuscany, coupled with some very excellent weather, provided us with a fine opportunity to visit and shoot picturesque locales that included Firenza (Florence), Pisa, Lucca, San Gimignano, the various villages of the Chianti countryside with its many spectacular vineyards, plus our favourite of locales: the medieval town of Sienna, with its reddish-brown brick Gothic architecture.

Unfortunately, we missed the running of Sienna’s famous Palio horse race by one week, which takes place annually on the town’s Piazza Il Campo. We did however pause long enough to take in and savour the panoramic view of Il Campo while leisurely sipping a late morning espresso at the table of one of the many outdoor cafes that ring this shell-shaped piazza. While visiting Sienna I experienced a bit of déjà vu. Those of us who watched ABC-TV's award-winning mini-series The Winds of War, starring the late Robert Mitchum, may recall the memorable scenes that were filmed on this very location with Ali MacGraw, Jan-Michael Vincent, and the great John Houseman.

In addition to the great wines and cheeses that Italy is well known for, Sarah and I made sure that we “consumed” a bit of artistic culture, as well as the culinary. While in Firenza, we marvelled at artworks such as Botticelli’s The Birth of Venus and Michelangelo’s David. Sarah’s initial reaction to seeing this famous and well-detailed statue was “Gawd, he’s BIG.” I am still assuming that she was commenting about the enormity of the ENTIRE statue…

Are Those The Lovely Bagpipes I Hear?

I have just returned from two work-related days in Edinburgh, Scotland. Edinburgh is a very beautiful and culturally rich city that I intend to visit again many more times in the future. It was the final two days of the Edinburgh International Festival, and revellers from all corners of the globe were very much in evidence as I strolled the Royal Mile; that long stretch of cobbled street that stretches from Edinburgh Castle to the Palace of Holyroodhouse.

I was in town specifically to attend the Edinburgh Mela, which touts itself to be the largest southern asian festival in the whole of the UK. As someone who is qualified to wear the tartans of both the MacDonald and MacNaughton clans, I actually found it quite entertaining to watch a band of traditionally costumed Pakistani musicians marching through a park in the middle of the Scottish capital, while playing Dixieland Jazz on brass instruments, Asian drums, and the bagpipes. The only thing missing was haggis served with a red curry sauce.

Unfortunately, I had to board the high-speed Virgin Train for my southern trek back toward Whalley, just as the fireworks were being launched from the ramparts of Edinburgh Castle. A multi-color light spectacular announcing the culmination of this year's festival. Are those the lovely bagpipes that I hear, as my train pulls out of Waverley Station? Aye, laddie. That they are. Calling out to this son of Scotland and beckoning him to hurry back home really soon.

Up, Up And Away In A Beautiful Balloon...

I couldn't help but recall those lyrics from the classic Fifth Dimension song, as Sarah and I went chasing hot air balloons across the Ribble Valley yesterday evening.

After finding that the gardens of nearby Stonyhurst College were closed in preparation for an upcoming event, Sarah and I decided to drive down the road to the DeTabley Inn. This was a very fortuatous decision on our part, as a local hot air balloon sightseeing company was preparing to launch two of it's bulbous craft from the inn's adjacent cricket field. We quickly discovered that one of the individuals preparing to climb into the balloon's passenger basket was a long-time friend of Sarah's, who was given this ride as a surprise 40th birthday gift.

With camera always in hand and at the ready, I captured on film the roar of the flaming burners as hot air transformed limp fabric into ever-growing, symetrically beautiful and colorful shapes. Towering above us and filled to stretching, they strained to be released for their ascent into the heavens.

With the support vehicle leading the way, and additional photo ops on the horizon, we gave chase as the two balloons drifted across the skies over Lancashire. Eventually, one balloon landed not too far from our very home, while the second one startled some of the unsuspecting patrons exiting our village's Italian restaurant, before once again attaining a reasonable altitude. After a pursuit that lasted almost two hours, our impromptu adventure finally ended in the middle of a grazing field, which was gently being lit by the rays of a sun setting itself to rest.

How did you spend your Monday evening?

Deep Throat

A thirty-year mystery has finally been solved. Former FBI official Mark Felt has stepped forward and identified himself as Deep Throat, the legendary informant who guided Washington Post journalists Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein in uncovering the facts and political intrigue that is euphemistically referred to today as Watergate.

Burglaries, illegal wiretaps, money laundering, and other criminal subversions of the American political and justice systems were authorized by then-president Richard M. Nixon and carried out by White House operatives. Using clues provided by Mr. Felt, the Washington Post published a series of now-famous news articles that would contribute to the eventual collapse of a scandalous presidential administration.

Not surprising, former Nixon Administration speechwriter and failed presidential candidate Pat Buchanan has already publicly branded Mark Felt as a traitor. That is a badge of honor that Mr. Felt should proudly wear.

Calendar Girls & The Prince

I have made reference in the past to those members of the Rylston Women's Institute who shot to worldwide fame eleven years ago for posing nude in a very tastefully produced calendar, in their effort to raise money for leukemia research. Six of our original Calendar Girls, including ringleader Angela Baker, have been invited to attend a special reception being held in their honor at Clarence House by the Prince of Wales.

Prince Charles has apparently been a longtime fan of these ladies and wanted to celebrate the fact that their efforts had hit the 1 million pound mark. The six friends who continue to be involved in fundraising have dubbed themselves the Baker's Half-Dozen, and the money they have raised has helped to open a pioneering cancer research institute at the University of York.

Even happier news is that Angela Baker will soon wed the Rev. Charles Knowel, the long-time family friend that consoled Mrs. Baker after her husband's death from leukemia. I wish her and the vicar much deserved years of happiness together.

Mea Culpa

It has been quite a few WEEKS since my last journal entry, for which I am most apologetic. I have been negligent to those who have become regular readers of my ramblings, plus I have been negligent to myself, as well.

In addition to my work as a photojournalist, I have recently taken on the added responsibilities of planning and producing festivals and other special events for one of the local borough councils, here in the northwest of England. Hence, the recent absence of regular journal entries.

Working within the environment of local government, especially for someone who is not a career governmental functionary, is a very interesting experience. Doing so within the confines of British local government is an entirely different dynamic harkening back to the age of Feudalism. Remember the classic Mark Twain tale, A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court? Well friends, I am currently living that tale. I'll let you know how the story progresses...