Our annual pilgrimage to Oregon was a couple of weeks back, and we had a blast! After a 5½ hour trip to Portland, which would've been a 3 hour trip if there hadn't been a nasty accident just north of Tacoma and rains south of Chehalis that gave us about 15 feet of visibility, we had a great night out on the town. Alex and I didn't want to pass up the opportunity to get out even though Tillie was sleepy and not exactly in a stellar mood. But it turns out, and we had no idea, that Tilia is a natural party animal. Once we hit the lobby of our hotel she was ready to go, smiling and swaggering, and paint the town red.

The next day we ransacked Powell's and headed to the coast, which was fabulous. It was great to see Alex's parents and they were so excited to see Tillie. Even though we make this trip yearly in October the weather is always great, and this year was hardly an exception. There was high winds on the first day, and a lot of fog rolling in and out throughout our stay. But that only adds to the drama of my photos – I hope you enjoy!

On Friday the temperature reached 94° at our house. We have hit the hottest part of the summer, and I thought this was the best time to look back into the past, way back about seven months ago. Do you remember the winter from hell, cold and snows that we all thought would never end, the roads all iced over and being stranded inside our homes for days at a time?

Well, it wasn't all bad. It was actually kind-of nice. At least for a few days. Believe me, I was truly sick of the snow as winter wore on. And as spring approached and we were still getting snow flurries I wondered if we would miss summer altogether this year.

But we didn't and now we can look back fondly at those remote days and and ponder the completely abstract concepts of 'cold' and 'my car is stuck in that snow drift'. The city was an entirely different place back then, and I have the photographic evidence to prove it – have a look at this series I took along Lake Washington (generally in the Mount Baker area), Greenwood, and on my street. Enjoy.

After a long silence I am back with a new post. Fatherhood has been completely amazing, even beyond words. But it has kept me too busy to do much with my website, except for a few scattered blog meta-posts. I'm back for a quick one though, I have to get these California Christmas shots up before the season gets too late.

Alex grew up in Oakland until the age of nine. She spent the next nine years out in California's gold country, where her parents still live. They live on a few acres outside of the town Sutter Creek, and it is just beautiful there. And that's the subject of this set, all of the shots are taken in an area within about 300 yards of the house. I hope these photos can portray at least a little bit of the natural beauty that I found there.

I have noted which of the photos are infrared for those interested.

My new toy is a Hoya R72 infrared filter for my Nikon D50. It filters out nearly all light in the visible spectrum and allows light that is mostly in the infrared spectrum through to the camera's digital sensor. And it works very well – the only visible light I can see when looking through my D50's viewfinder is when I have it pointed at the sun. Even though this makes composition complete guesswork, the results are amazing.

Gibson and Ellen had their annual July birthday bash last weekend, and it gave me an excellent opportunity to test my new toy out. I am happy with the photos, and also surprised by some of the results. One of the strangest results I got was the photo of Amie and Elijah, posted below. Not only did Elijah's black Batman hat turn white, but Amie's sunglass lenses completely disappeared as if they had popped out. Have a look and the pics and enjoy!

Oh, little Tilia Cohen. She has been with us for four weeks now, and already I forget what my life was like before. I feel like a lot has changed since then, probably the biggest change in my life so far. It is so amazing, such a little package with such a huge impact.

I knew things would be different and my life would change once Tilia was born. But such impacts are impossible to measure before their time. Usually there is a casual optimism that once the time comes you will be able to hold on to most things you had; quiet reading times, movies twice a week, a fabulous meal out whenever you like. And often you can, but sometimes the impact is big enough that these things fall immediately by the way side.

Usually the loss is quite a burden, and you grieve for what you had. But then there are those rare cases that may only come once in your life, and you don't even look back at those things – sure, they were nice but now there is this great new thing. And that is exactly what Tilia is like, as if my head was split open right when she was born and everything came spilling out. But instead of loss there was her, in my head Athena-like and filling the hole where everything else once was.

How could I have expected that being covered in barf would be a joy rather than just tragic? Who would know it would happen that way, or could know? I'm not sure anyone could, but maybe this large set of photos will help take us a step closer.