About having one of those great travel moments…

If you’ve traveled long enough, you’ll occasionally run across what I call those “wow” moments. That’s when you’re just standing/sitting/lying somewhere, gazing out at whatever vista lies before you (usually with mouth slightly agape), and you find yourself whispering “Wow, I can’t believe I’m here!” I’ve been lucky enough to have had several of these moments, from Gibraltar to Istanbul on the other side of the globe, and from the East Coast to the West Coast in the U.S. This particular experience happened to me at what I consider one of the most beautiful places in the world – Santorini, Greece.

Santorini’s beauty is derived not from any lush tropical vegetation, but from a ruggedness hewn from a cataclysmic event that occurred more than 1,500 years ago. The results of the devastating volcanic explosion that destroyed much of the island were the massive red cliffs that rise majestically from the deep blue Aegean Sea. Perched dangerously atop the cliffs are beautiful white dwellings and churches with domes as blue as the sea below. I defy anyone not to be awestruck over the scenery found in Santorini.

Out of all the images I took of this magnificent island, I chose the one above because this is where my “wow…” moment happened – at a simple little cliffside café.

I was nearing the tail end of a two-and-a-half-week photographic journey through Turkey and Greece. On these long trips through foreign lands, I tend to get intense cravings for American food and unaccented English. I went out early one day to catch the morning light. With equipment in hand, I trekked along a cliffside walkway when suddenly I came upon a sign that read, “We Serve Big American Breakfast”. Salivating heavily, I grabbed a cliffside table and ordered my “Big American Breakfast”. What I got, however, was quite a surprise. My “Big American Breakfast” consisted of two runny eggs, two strips of half-cooked bacon, a hot dog (sans bun) and French fries! I guessed that the hot dog and fries made my meal legitimately American. Nevertheless, I was hungry…

The “wow” moment came to me as I waited for the meal. Sitting at the cliffside table, I had a view of the intensely blue waters of the caldera below. Across the caldera were more striking red cliffs dotted by the white dwellings. The radio inside the café was blaring George Michael’s “Father figure”, my English fix. At that moment, I took it all in and said to myself, mouth slightly agape, “Wow, I cannot believe I’m here!” It was a truly gratifying feeling.

The fierce river of the north…

We all know what the Rio Grande is famous for – the penetrable border between two North American nations, the symbolic cornerstone of today’s debate on illegal immigration, the source of a viciously derogatory ethnic slur. The Rio Grande usually brings to mind armed border patrols, the Minutemen, drug violence, John Wayne, the really Wild West.

But there is another, much less disquieting side to the Rio Bravo del Norte (the fierce river of the north), as it is known in Mexico. Did you know that the river sources in Colorado near the Continental Divide? It meanders through Colorado and New Mexico before turning in a generally southeasterly direction into its bawdier reputation as a jagged border feature. Here, as depicted in the photo above, the river enjoys a quieter existence as it courses through the rocky hills of New Mexico southwest of Taos. Further north is the spectacular Rio Grande Gorge, spanned by the Gorge Bridge about 10 miles west of Taos.

Any trip to New Mexico would not be complete without a view of the Rio Grande, and northern New Mexico offers some amazing photo opportunities of the river. Definitely check it out.

The old fruit stand...

Ever pass by something so many times, something so ordinary that it barely commands your attention, that it becomes almost invisible? For a period of more than 10 years, I drove my kids back and forth to college, a 16-18 hour trek from Chicago to Tallahassee, Florida and back. At times, it could be a tedious journey - outside of a few big cities and towns along the way, there was nothing much to see. In an effort to keep the trip interesting on those long stretches between cities - and to stay awake - I would look for something along the side of the road as a landmark. It had to be ordinary and permanent - something that would always be there.

I had chosen several of these landmarks along the way during that 10-plus year span - the extermely high railroad trestle near the Tennessee River; the silver grain silo in Indiana; the huge fireworks store near the Georgia-Tennessee border. These were all very ordinary objects that probably would have faded in my memory had I not chosen them as landmarks. They helped me deal with the tedium of the long drive as I looked forward to hitting each of these spots. Best of all, they were always there.

The most ordinary of these landmarks, however, was the old fruit stand along Route 319, south of Tifton, Georgia. On my way to Tallahassee, it was a sign that I was almost there; on my way back home, it signified that I was nearing the access to I-75 that would soon get me to the Macon bypass and onto Atlanta. Although I never stopped to buy anything, that little fruit stand was always there.

My daughter graduated from Florida A&M this past August, and I was assigned to drive her car back up to Chicago. It was going to be a nostalgic drive for me, the last time I would have to make this trip after more than 10 years of doing so. I looked forward to stopping at the fruit stand and finally buying some fruit, especially since it was going to be my last time seeing my old friend. Alas, as I approached the stand, I could see it was closed, and looking like it had been closed for some time. Perhaps it was fitting that I found it closed on my last journey along Route 319 in southern Georgia.

I was very disappointed in myself for never having stopped once in those 10 years to buy fruit. I did get this photo of it as a reminder to never put off things that just might bring you even the tiniest bit of joy in your life. They may not always be there.

ので、平和的な...

Osaka Garden in Chicago's Jackson Park is one of the most restful places in the city, and one of the more interesting and least known spots to photograph. It's interesting to capture the garden during each of the seasons, looking for different angles and elements that might make your next shot different. This is especially challenging if you've been here as often as I have.

The garden is located on Wooded Isle in the Jackson Park Lagoon, immediately behind the Museum of Science and Industry. It was first built here on the island for the Columbian Exposition of 1893 near the Japanese Pavilion and reconstructed over the years to its present, beautiful state. Today, the garden is popular with neighborhood residents and bird lovers from all over the city. According to the Chicago Park District, more than 250 different species have been spotted from Wooded Isle , and 48 species have nested here. Cultural festivals and performances are also common, including the annual Osaka Garden Festival held each September.

By the way, the Japanese in the title translates to "so peaceful"...I hope.