Andy is both a teammate and a friend. He makes, repairs, and sells violins and violas professionally. This morning, he came over to use my bandsaw to cut through several $300 slabs of figured maple and a couple of spruce. Much of the work he does involves hand tools, and although he has a bandsaw, it was not large enough for this particular job. It was fun being in the shop again and working with him. I have taken a fairly long break after spending every day for nine months building the cabinetry for the house.

There are a pair of branches that overhang the river just outside our living room window. It is quite common to see all manner of birds perched there throughout the day. Never before, however, have I seen two herons share this prime hunting perch.

I spent nearly the whole day working on my website. I hired a Ukraine-based developer to perform a site-wide software upgrade and theme migration. He completed the work in short order, and I felt good about directing my business to their war-torn economy. He helped me figure out why a 14-month period of my blog is missing all the images (at that time, almost 15 years ago, I was hosting my images on a platform that has since gone belly up). I spent the balance of the day, recovering each of those images and reinserting them into the blog, a very time consuming and tedious job. I repaired 6 months worth in as many hours and hope to complete the job over the next few days.

I challenge observant viewers to identify the main difference between these two scenes. The novice will identify differences in pillow placement and chair orientation. Middle-of-the-road detectives might observe the addition of a wooden box on top of the coffee table. Only a true Sherlock-class sleuth will notice that the couches are different, and only by close examination of the seams.

When this custom-ordered piece was initially delivered back in April, we noticed that one of the three sections was not quite like the others. The color of the thread and orientation of the seam folds were different. It is the kind of thing that you do not notice at first, but once you’ve seen it, you can’t help but see it every time you look at the couch. To their credit, West Elm, the store where we placed the order, offered to give us a BIG refund or replace the set. We opted for the latter, and the replacement couch finally arrived today. This is likely the last couch we will ever own, and I am glad we opted to wait for a properly upholstered one rather that take the refund.

The “butterfly garden” that exists on the common land of our neighborhood has been overtaken by Purple Loosestrife, an invasive plant. While it may not be welcomed, it is certainly delightful to look at.

This evening, just before dusk, Jeanine and I went outside to watch the bats. It is mesmerizing to watch them fly to and fro, guided by their echolocation, darting here and there to capture mosquitoes and other flying insects. At some point, I would like to try photographing one in flight, a goal that will be next to impossible to achieve given their speed and the low light conditions.

For some time now, Jeanine has been wanting to plant a rose bush beneath our bedroom window. Today, after a trip to a local nursery, we satisfied that dream. Digging a suitable-sized hole (16″W x 16″D) in the highly compacted, rock-strewn soil on which our house was built took the better part of half an hour with the aid of a pickaxe. Jeanine is pictured above scooping out the last bits of clay by hand before adding compost and fertilizer. It remains to be seen how the new rose bush will fare in this setting, and all we can do at this point is continue to water and hope for the best.

Jeanine and I spent a good portion of the afternoon at the Cambridge Jazz Festival, where we did a little Salsa and Merengue dancing and enjoyed the Caribbean jazz sounds of Ron Reid’s Special Metal Project. There is a good chance, weather permitting, we will attend for a second day tomorrow.

In the early days of Truevision, the company I co-founded in my twenties, I hired an engineer from Switzerland named Frank Löffel for the role of an ASIC (chip) Designer. He wrote a well-researched letter describing his skills and capabilities, as well as how they would benefit the company. We granted him an interview, were impressed, and proceeded to offer him the job. He later told me we were the only company to respond to 30 similar letters he had sent out to other potential employers. When he moved to the US to start work, he had no place to live, so I invited him to stay in my spare bedroom. Eventually, he got his own place and went on to work for the company for several years. Frank and I both shared an interest in landscape photography. He was most drawn to deserts and his work was at a level I can only aspire to reach. We reconnected after ~20 years while we were both attending the National Association of Broadcasters (NAB) trade show in Las Vegas. After the show ended we spent a day together shooting photography in Death Valley. I have wonderful memories of that day but damn few photos of Frank to share beyond the one above. Frank was a loner and would work intermittently to fund his passion for desert photography. He had a Toyota Land Cruiser fitted with huge tires and a pop-top camper. It had several spares on the roof along with extra gas cans, car jacks, and traction ramps. It was fitted with solar panels and storage areas for all his photo gear. He had recently spent several months in the Bolivian high dessert and had driven up from South America.

I recently learned that Frank died 6 months ago. At the time, he was being held in an Iranian prison where he reportedly committed suicide. The Iranian’s claimed he was a spy taking photos of a military base near where he was arrested, and it is suspected that he was tortured. My guess is he was there shooting landscape photography of the deserts he loved so much, finding himself in the wrong place, at the wrong time, with a truck full of high-end photography gear and drones.

This was unbelievably sad news to receive, but even worse is that I can find no record of his online photography portfolio. He devoted much of his life to making beautiful images of some of the most remote and desolate places on Earth, and now it appears his photographic legacy may be lost forever as well.

Frank is pictured below in an early Truevision company picnic photo with his girlfriend. He is directly below the Frisbee.

I offer my condolences to his sister, wife, and son, and pledge I will do all in my power to recover his photographs.

When my brother last visited us in Concord, he left with a small section of a Linden Tree trunk from our yard. While in Ireland, he returned it in a slightly different form. Mark has become a skilled woodturner, and we have been the beneficiaries of several of his creations.

Our return flight to the US was not until late afternoon, allowing Jeanine and me another half day to explore Dublin. She opted to visit the Irish Emigration Museum, while I chose to wander around outside. Pictured above is the Famine Memorial, which vividly portrays starving people in rags, some carrying children and meager belongings, symbolizing the suffering faced by the Irish population during the famine when about one million people died and another million emigrated from Ireland. Below, a part of Dublin’s modern skyline is George Quay Plaza.

“The Portal” is an innovative public art installation that creates a real-time visual connection between Dublin and other cities worldwide. Initially, the portal was coupled to another portal in New York City and has since expanded to include Vilnius (Lithuania), Poland, and Brazil. It consists of a large circular sculpture with a rounded screen in the middle that streams a continuous, unfiltered live video feed of the other city. This allows people in Dublin to see and interact visually with those in the different cities as if they were sharing the same space.

It is without a doubt the most engaging piece of urban art I have ever encountered.

The Samuel Beckett Bridge is a cable-stayed swing bridge that spans the River Liffey. Designed by renowned Spanish architect Santiago Calatrava, the bridge is noted for its elegant shape that evokes an Irish harp lying on its edge, symbolizing Irish culture. The bridge is 120 meters long and 48 meters high, featuring a single curved pylon that rises 46 meters above sea level.

The Chester Beatty, also known as the Chester Beatty Library, is Ireland’s leading museum of world cultures located within the grounds of Dublin Castle. It was established in 1953 to house the collections of Sir Alfred Chester Beatty, an American mining magnate and collector. The museum holds an extraordinary collection of approximately 25,000 manuscripts, rare books, miniature paintings, and decorative objects from Europe, the Middle East, Asia, and North Africa, covering a range of world cultures and religions. The Chester Beatty is acclaimed for its diverse exhibitions, including significant religious manuscripts such as early Bible copies, Qur’an, Buddhist scriptures, and the Gospel of Mani.

It was our primary destination today and lived up to its reputation as one of Europe’s best museums. I learned more about the religions of the world in one day than I have during my lifetime.

Afterwards, and in between ice cream breaks, we visited the nearby St. Patrick’s Cathedral, the largest church in Ireland and a prime example of Gothic architecture. Its history stretches back over 800 years, built primarily between 1220 and 1260 under Archbishop John Comyn, on a site believed to be where St. Patrick himself baptized converts in the 5th century. The cathedral was constructed in a cruciform (cross-shaped) layout typical of Gothic design, featuring pointed arches, ribbed vaults, flying buttresses, and an elaborate 140-foot tall bell tower.

Pictured below is a random self-portrait I made. Jeanine studied this photo for several minutes and could not figure out what exactly she was looking at. See if you can figure it out.

UPDATE: In response to many inquiries about this photo, I am adding the explanation. I was seated on some stone steps in front of a boarded-up entry to an old stone-faced building. I photographed my reflection in a mirror being transported on a panel truck. The graffiti is on the plywood I am leaning against. The rectangular sticker below the graffiti is on the mirror. I am holding the camera above my head to get an angle that makes it look like I am sitting at the bottom of the mirror.

Shortly after we left the wedding reception last night, Maya broke the fifth metatarsal in her left foot while dancing. She was attempting a split leap when one of her feet got caught on her dress, causing her to land on the side of her foot with all her weight. She contacted us this morning to say that she was in a lot of pain and that she thought she might have broken a bone. Her siblings were quick to her aid while Jeanine and I drove over to their apartment from our hotel. Kyle scheduled an appointment at a local outpatient clinic to get her a referral for an x-ray. Nico found a medical supply house where we obtained a pair of forearm crutches. An x-ray at the hospital confirmed that she had a full fracture of her fifth metatarsal. The doctor said the bone will fully heal in 18 months. For now she will have to wear a boot for several months and avoid bearing her full weight on the foot. Regrettably, Maya was planning to spend the remainder of her vacation hiking in Norway with friends.

My nephew Mario and Brooke celebrated their marriage with family and friends this afternoon. Brooke’s father officiated the ceremony, and Mario’s brother, Rory, served as the Master of Ceremonies. The event was as playful as it was poignant, a perfect reflection of the couple. Our family was honored to share in the celebration. I took many photos but made sure not to interfere with the professional hired for the occasion. Knowing she would cover all the “standard” shots, I focused on the guests, especially the smaller ones, and some unique takes on the couple.

The full set of photos I have taken during the wedding weekend can be found here.

Galway is a vibrant, bohemian city on Ireland’s west coast, known for its lively arts scene, traditional music, and colorful, cobblestone streets along Galway Bay. The wedding was timed to coincide with the Galway Arts Festival which only served to amplify the cities bustling café and pub culture. 

Jeanine enjoys catching up with Mario while Brooke greets her nieces.

Mario’s brother, Rory, is seen behind bars with one of his friends. Some might argue that this is a good way to protect Rory from the throngs of women who tend to follow him around.

Meanwhile, the kids have coerced me into the ridiculous pose below, designed to make fun of my sun hat; brim tipped up, ears tucked in.

I have started a wedding album for Mario and Brooke. It can be found here.

The reason for our visit to Ireland is to attend the wedding celebration of my nephew, Mario, to Brooke. Most of the guests have now arrived in Galway and will be touring the Aran Island of Inishmore today. Having previously visited there and also in need of some me time, I opted to drive up the Connemara coastline and take the ferry to Inishbofin, an even more remote island off the western coast.

If not for my 11:30 ferry time, I would have spent the entire day in Connemara where there seemed to be something worth photographing at every turn, and there were a lot of turns.

My first real stop was at the Coral Strand, known for its crystal-clear waters and unique sand composed of crushed coraline algae, giving it a distinctive coral-like appearance despite not being true coral. Click on the second photo below for a close-up of the “sand.”

After pausing for breakfast in Roundstone, it was on to Dog’s Bay, a beautiful horseshoe-shaped beach. I had hoped to get an aerial photo similar to the one below (not taken by me), but had to settle for a quick shot from the ground as I was running seriously behind schedule.

I will spare the details of my harrowing drive to catch the ferry to Inishbofin. Suffice it to say that I was the last passenger to board, and the gangway was stowed 30 seconds after I crossed it. For my own future benefit, the Cleggan Ferry does not depart from the Cleggan Cliffs, and it is best not to leave your phone in the car when your ferry tickets are stored on it.

During the Cromwellian conquest of Ireland in the mid-17th century, Inishbofin was the last stronghold of Irish royalist forces. In 1652, it was captured by Cromwell’s troops, who decided to build a new, more formidable fortification to control the harbour and suppress opposition. The result was the star-shaped stone fort—now locally called Cromwell’s Barracks—which still dominates the tidal island today.

Once on the island, I decided to hike the 5-mile West Quarter Loop. Determined not to miss the last ferry back to the mainland, I set off during torrential rain, hoping it would abate as is often the case in Ireland. Mercifully, the rain stopped an hour into my hike just as the most interesting views appeared. Click on the aerial photo below and see if you can find Waldo. I saw more people in the bathroom at the Cliffs of Moher visitor center than I did on my entire hike on Inishbofin.

The blow hole on Inishbofin was formed when sea caves eroded landwards and upwards into vertical shafts that opened at the surface, allowing seawater to shoot dramatically into the air during certain tidal conditions. I knew the chances of catching the blow hole in action were minimal and was happy to capture the unique geological formation in a progressive series of drone photos, the last of which is a reverse angle.