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5 years!? My oh my oh my...it's been too long. Waaaay too long since my last post. Because of that, please excuse any inconsistencies in sentence structure, punctuation, or, hell, even sense. Because, well, nothing from the past 5 years really makes any…

So where do I start? Well, in an effort to spend as little time as necessary on 'the-year-that-shall-not-be-named,' as I know everyone has their own harrowing story from that gotcha of a sun cycle, I'll try to fast forward through most of the dumpster-fire and just provide a few 'lowlights' (because there really weren't any 'highlights') while purposely, at best, skimming over the details, and then bringing it all back to present...sorta...

‘The Temple of the Sun’

That’s where she told us we were standing as she explained that everyone gets it wrong when they call it the Incan Empire.

For it was not an empire at all.

Empire suggests violent conquest and bloody battles and walls and impenetrable fortresses.

But here, apparently, the doors were always open. There were no closed gates or barriers to entry into the Incan communities. It was open to anyone and everyone. Until Spanish rule, she explained, the Inca civilization grew through peaceful assimilation. In fact, the Inca Trail itself was designed to connect all parts of the Incan territory, stretching from Columbia all the way down to Bolivia.

Therefore, rather than empire, she posited Incan Civilization.

This is not a photography post, but it's much more important than any post I may have posted.

I’d like to introduce you to Luz Emilia Haddad, one of the most wonderful, beautiful, resilient, empathetic, nurturing souls on the planet, who has had a special place in my heart since I was a baby.

She’s the aunt you call aunt who’s not really an aunt, but is your aunt.

This is her story.

And I won’t sugarcoat it, this is a story about child abuse.

Following two full days of exploring the region’s most revered breeders and pastures, and being educated by, and about, the various co-ops being organized and popping up to help command a fairer price for their hard-earned efforts in this region, who produce amongst the finest alpaca in the world, we headed down towards the infamous Andean basecamp city of Cusco for one of our final couple nights as a group.

There was one stop in between that we’ll…eh…sorta gloss over strictly for documentary’s sake that involved a big black nondescript duffel-bag being thrown into the back of the van by someone who couldn’t get far enough from us fast enough after doing so…

As we sat in our various hiding positions amongst the rocks in that outcropping, after about an hour or so, the corners of our eyes began catching modest spatterings of vicuna galloping by us.

Then those modest spatterings turned into groups that ran by and around us.

After just a few more minutes, those groups turned into waves of herds of thousands of vicuna running by, around, through, over and past us...

Yep, it's been a year.

Kinda feels like it's been 40.

And I know most of you feel the same.

So all I want to do is look at some purty pictures.

Will you look at some purty pictures with me?

Because despite this cosmic loop of psychotica we’ve found ourselves flailing through, there have been some beautiful moments as well.

Here are a few choice captures from the past few months, some from California, some from Portland, and most from the areas surrounding where I've chosen to currently call home (at least until 2020 strikes again).

Bend, Oregon.

Ommmmm…

As soon as I jumped out of the van to photograph a rare wild vicuna on the side of the road (if you don’t know what that is, ohhhh boy you’re quite in for it in Part 3…), my whole world started spinning and my head felt like it connected with a Pacquiao uppercut, and for the better part of the following 72 hours, I could have swore on an Incan Sol that my temples were sliced open and squashed in a salt-dusted vice.

One of the first things they recommend, and conveniently stocked, at a small convenience store in a dirt parking lot on the side of the road, was coca tea. Yes, you are correct - a tea made from coca leaves. I figured when in Peru...

And, well…

I had just boarded my connecting flight from Orlando to Lima, Peru and settled into my seat when I remembered my headphones were still in my bag in the overhead compartment.

So I went to open the bin and immediately, all of the contents from another persons's unsecured and unzipped bag fell out and directly onto the woman's head sitting right underneath the bin

So now the whole back of the plane was staring right at me.

And I don’t speak Spanish.

And none of them spoke English.

I suppose that's one way to start this thing!

Or, perhaps, I can start from the beginning...

For visualization purposes, imagine literally standing outside your bedroom door with your morning coffee to be greeted by (and get to feed) alpaca on one side, and then looking in the other direction and getting a glimpse of the magical sunrise light that was peeking on various parts of the garden grounds between the myriad of cloud patterns through this Portland-area spring.

If there was ever a time to invite the healing powers of nature into your heart, mind, soul, and self-quarantine quarters, this be it!!

First and foremost I trust and hope that all of you and those close to you are safe, healthy, and finding new ways to keep your spirits up and your minds in tact.

There’s no way around it: these are WEEEEIIIIRRRRDDDD times. And while it may seem like our hands (and sanity) are tied, one thing we CAN do, is use this opportunity to slow down, simplify and reassess our priorities for a post-COVID world.

One of those priorities can be paying better attention to taking care of our health, both mental and physical. And one of the best ways to do that is to spend more time appreciating, embracing and taking care of Mother Earth.

Click the post below for the rest of the words, some free gifts, an announcement, and an opportunity to help those on the front lines of COVID19…