I’ll take fog over sun any morning. Perhaps I say that because I was born and raised in Colorado, where fog is uncommon and usually gone before I’m out of bed.

Well, I now have an infant in my life (as I seem to mention in every post), which means 6:30am kinda counts as sleeping in. On the Fourth of July, we had a wet and very cold evening that made the prospect of fireworks with our little girl even less appealing. We watched Return of the Jedi on Spike TV and crashed. Upon waking up at 6am, I discovered a soupy fog had descended on the Yampa River Valley. After brewing a pot of coffee and changing into jeans and a sweatshirt, I was off, leaving my two girls sleeping soundly at the condo.

Varenna was born on a day that started out foggy. I remember that weather distinctly because it was so unusual and I knew this was it — Hailey having contractions seated in her rocking chair … me seated on a stool next to her with a stop watch …  the world outside muffled by a thick veil of fog.

And that’s what it is about fog: it is intimate. Broad landscapes become contained, virtually indoor, and the richness of the world’s color comes through.

This was a heavy, heavy fog. Driving down Walton Creek Rd. toward U.S. 40, I was in limbo about where to head for my shots. There were two barns that immediately came to mind. One of them I had photographed a ridiculous amount of times; the other was the one everybody photographed. But I opted for the latter instead because it was close (above two photos). It’s behind a few stores, off a rather unassuming road, and on top of a hill by a construction site. It’s a bit of a let down at first. And yet, it has graced magazine covers, tourism websites and postcards as the emblem of Steamboat. An old Western barn, set in front of the ski area. Perfect dichotomy of old and new, the Wild West and the Recreating West, right?

As a photographer, those postcard shots are nice and exciting for a few years (and clearly, they are marketable), but there is something electrifying about shooting an icon in unexpected conditions. It forces the viewer to reconsider the whole scene. That’s what art is all about.

The fog wasn’t lifting and my coffee wasn’t cold yet. I decided to head for the second barn and see what I’d find. That was when things got magical…

It didn’t, but the green grass and evening sunlight was pretty.

You’d have to believe that sooner or later, this barn — and the iconic one that graces every promotional campaign for Steamboat Springs — will collapse in the night. They’re too old and frail. Of course, they say the same thing about Delicate Arch. For now, this run-down structure is what makes Steamboat, Steamboat.

About 36 hours later, I had a magical hour in the fog photographing this barn. Those images to come in another post later this week …

My graduation gift from high school was a Nikon FM — a mechanical SLR camera from the late 1970s. Because it lacked a brain of any kind, I had to tell it to do everything, and that was the joy of it. I would take two shots of the same thing as much as I could: f/3.2 for the first one, f/22 for the second one. Then I’d play with shutter speeds. Two shots of the same thing became four. And so on.

My first test subjects in the summer of 1997 were Colorado’s wildflowers. I was always in the mountains at that age, if not every weekend, then at least every other weekend, and from late June to early August, the meadows of the Rockies were exploding with color.

This past weekend, Hailey and I and our four-month-old daughter Varenna drove to Steamboat Springs to celebrate the Fourth of July. As we climbed Rabbit Ears Pass, our little girl became antsy — mouth clenched, gutteral “uhhhs” emanating from her throat, kicks to the side of the sunshade on her car seat … OK, we get the point Varenna. You want to be held. You want out. Can’t blame you.

Near the crest of the pass, there is a turn off U.S. 40 where a flat and massive meadow opens to the north, forming a brilliant green apron beneath Rabbit Ears Peak. We pulled off onto the dirt road and bounced along to Dumont Lake, a serene and idyllic lake that has recently been tarnished by beetle-killed pine trees. The wildflowers, however, remain profuse and stunning, with columbine, paintbrush, lupine and glacier lilies decorating the meadows with purple, red, blue and yellow.

Our stop was only 45 minutes, but it gave Renna a break from her carseat and allowed me some time to compose these wildflower shots. Getting a pretty wildflower shot isn’t hard. Getting an original one is. On that account, I don’t know that I got one, but it was a lot of fun trying.

Soon the sky grew dark, the wind kicked up and thunder rolled over the hills beneath the lake. We buckled our little girl back into her seat and drove into the rain…

Andrew was graduating from Giving Tree Montessori School. Next year, its off to first grade.Knowing how sharp and clever Andrew is, he’ll do great in the new big school.

So here’s a collection of some shots from the night, shot with a Canon 5D MK II and a 50mm f1.8 and a 200mm f2. Love both lenses, especially for occasions such as this one.

Andrew was clearly bored during the commencement speaker’s address — I think it was Joe Biden or something.

A very adult pose, surveying the diploma.

A very almost-7-year-old pose, with the diploma.

Waving to a friend as he goes to get his diploma.

And posing for pictures with his proud dad and mom, my brother Ben, and his lovely wife Amy.

Silence. An earth-rocking, soul-stirring realization in the middle of bitter-cold ranch country outside Kremmling, Colorado. Exactly what a new parent needs: Fresh air and a deafening absence of sound.

It was a Friday afternoon, the last day of April. I’d left work early, and the three of us — me, Hailey and our little daughter Varenna — had made our way to the mountains through sun, snow and their indignant cross-breed, the sunny-blizzard. Our venture would take us to the usual place — Steamboat Springs — for some needed rest and relaxation. But for the moment, I was on the side of the road, hands in pockets and facing the wind, staring at the empty land while Hailey fed our groggy little girl. Getting out of the car meant getting in touch with things. It meant shooting a few frames on my camera.

In the grassy field were a pair of sandhill cranes — perhaps my favorite birds in Colorado. Gawky, golden with a red patch between the eyes, they poked about the grass and lifted elegantly on short breezes, their wings expanding to make use of the wind for a few seconds. What I would have given to have them unleash that awkward, clamorous call of theirs … but they never did. They poked for bugs.

And then, a different calling: over Rabbit Ears Pass by dark. Back in the car, on the road, and five frames in my digital camera. It was good to be back traveling and shooting.

Two weeks ago, she was a swollen little newborn who could barely keep her eyes open. She’d claw at her cheeks and eyebrows, the sensory experience of her new life too much to handle. Tonight, while lying on my chest, she wiggled her way from my sternum to burrow her face under my armpit, as though she’d find a food source under there, the whole time making ravenous little grunts. I could hardly contain my laughter it was so cute.

Varenna looks a little like me, and she looks a little like Hailey. And yet at the same time, she looks, and acts, not at all like either of us. It’s so incredible to see the individualism of a newborn. She’s mellow, content, and yet capable of incredible assertiveness. Her eyes are blue one day, blue-gray the next, hazel the next, blue again the next. The fact that I can’t peg her personality, let alone her physical traits, down makes parenthood all the more surreal.

Since we’ve come home, we’ve had several visitors come over. Hailey’s parents have visited, and we’ve Skyped Hailey’s brother and sister-in-law in Virginia and grandmother in St. Louis. My mom and dad came by for dinner, and this Thursday, since we were feeling pretty house-bound, we took Varenna to their house in the foothills southwest of town. Four or five sets of friends have stopped by to meet her, and my brother and his family have come by, with his wife Amy spending last night at our place (what a trooper … she even helped with night duty). I thought that our wedding was the once-in-a-lifetime event where gratitude for these friends and family would be the most intense. To have that experience twice is truly a blessing.

Varenna’s room has turned into a neat little sanctuary, complete with woodsy creatures, stuffed animals and a soundtrack of birdsong that we like to play on a compact sound system. Whether Varenna the Newborn eventually becomes Varenna the Outdoorsy Girl is entirely up to her, but for now, she’s got a lot of cuddly creatures surrounding her.

I’ve set up a blog just for Varenna photos. I did it mainly for family and friends to keep tabs on her (and to keep the Tanager Blog focused on travel, portraiture and other photography). My favorite post so far has to do with the many faces of this girl.

So there you go: our little family. Hope you are all enjoying spring …

On Sunday, March 7, my wife gave birth to our first, a daughter, Varenna Autumn Day. Weighing 8 pounds, 2 ounces, she is a big baby, and as we’re finding out — once that big baby has been delivered — big is beautiful. She’s strong, healthy, sleeps well, feeds well and just might be rolling over in the next few weeks.

Varenna has lived in anonymity for the last 9 months. She was bashful during both ultrasounds, and despite our desire to know her gender and start formulating her life story in our minds, we had to wait until her entrance to get to know her on that level. The doctor’s announcement of “she’s a girl!” was a moment of sheer elation — like a first kiss, never to be duplicated again.

Girls are a rare thing in my family. In her generation, the Days have produced three boys (my brother’s sons Andrew, Isaiah and Jeremiah); in my generation, one girl out of five. On the Reitzug side, she is the 15th in her generation, but only the fourth girl. Even the doctor predicted a boy when she realized how big she was … her entrance was the best surprise of my life.

Last Sunday was a grueling day — labor started around 5am, we checked into the hospital by 11am, and she arrived shortly before 5pm. Hailey’s parents were her first visitors at 5:45pm, followed by my brother, his wife and their boys (that’s 6-year-old Andrew holding her above) and then my parents shortly thereafter. The next thing we knew it was midnight and the parade of late-night feedings had begun. What just happened?

Big kudos to the staff at Rose Medical Center, especially the nurses in labor/delivery and post-martem. The level of care they offered to Hailey and Varenna was outstanding.

We’re home now (have been since Tuesday), and I’ll get another post up on life at home with Varenna. After that, the Tanager Blog will continue to focus on travel, portraits and the other photographic work I do. I’ll be setting up a baby blog just for her, and for the friends and family who want to see how she grows.

On Sunday, Hailey had a henna artist — Amy Swagman, who has her own henna design business — come over and paint a beautiful henna tattoo design on her baby bump. There was no deeper reason for doing it. Just a “hey, that would be fun for the baby shower” kind of impulse. And since I haven’t gotten around to doing maternity pictures … well, here they are: our documented evidence of what pregnancy with Baby Xerxes was like with six weeks to go.

Amy began with a peacock design over the belly button, and the design emanated from there.

Our babe is a real roller. Loves to kick, tumble and do gymnastics all day. Made for an interesting spectacle as Amy tried to apply the design. Crazy kid.

As the design transpired, I bounced between taking pictures and watching the J-E-T-S! Jets! Jets! Jets! defeat the Chargers. That was awesome.

And here is the final design. The ink dried, and then came off in the morning with the wrap that went over it. Now Hailey has this beautiful tattoo for the next two weeks, at which point it will fade away.

But by then, the Olympics will have started, and then once the Olympics are over, the bags will be packed for the hospital and we’ll be on guard to the finish line. Not sure how many blog posts I’ll get up there before then….

If you are interested in any kind of henna design, look Amy up. Here is her website: http://www.hennadenver.com.

I thought I’d do a quick post on the holidays, starting with pictures Hailey took on Cookie Day. Above is her mom, Diana, and our sister-in-law Amy, enjoying a surplus of chocolate.

And here is Isaiah, our nephew, carefully decorating a gingerbread cookie, bedhead and all.

While coordinating this annual tradition, Hailey emailed my mom with the subject line “Cookie Day.” My mom noted that at first glance she thought Hailey was using a new nickname for our baby. And so, December was the month that “Xerxes” became “Cookie.”

Below is our nephew Andrew, and my personal favorite: oatmeal-craisin-and-white-chocolate-chip cookies.

I missed Cookie Day this year, but my brother was able to attend, and here he’s giving the annual reading of the Christmas Cookie Sprinkle Snitcher. This is one of my favorite books from growing up … sadly it’s out of print, but you can buy it used on Amazon for $288.

Fast forward two weeks, and we’ve arrived at Christmas morning in Richmond. We had a large group to celebrate with this year, including Hailey’s grandmother from St. Louis, her aunt and uncle from Chapel Hill, and her cousin Diana (below, wearing a Chinese paper hat we all received in our stocking) from Brooklyn.

The King/Goerner families have turned stocking stuffers into an art form. Despite the lack of children (until next Christmas at least), they all give each other cheap toys and fun games that usually entertain until noon. Here’s Jason showing off his rubber-ball-and-paddle skills (if you can call them “skills” … we all were pretty clumsy with them). Hailey and I gave out the fun noisy balloons we bought in Mexico back in April. You blow them up, let go of them, and they make a high-pitched buzzing sound as they fly around the room. Smudge — Jason and Ali’s dog — killed our balloon on it’s second flight, to howls of laughter from all.

Another King/Goerner family tradition … the Christmas Day jigsaw puzzle.

Hailey’s cousin gave us some adorable baby clothes and bibs (we’re amassing quite the haul by now), and on Sunday night, some of Ali’s family came to visit for dinner. Hailey’s mom got to play Nana for a bit with Ali’s niece, little Gracie.

OK, so I have to admit. I’m funny about dogs. Most people who know me well know that I’m … shall we say “averse” to most dogs. I like to chalk it up to the fact that I’ve been attacked by them three times in my life (twice as a toddler, and once this past year while riding my bike). But the fact is I don’t like stepping in poo and the sound of barking simply grates my nerves.

But I hereby grant a lifetime waiver to Minnie and Smudge, Jason and Ali’s incredible two dogs. They’ve done an excellent job training them, and they are the best behaved puppies I’ve ever met.

Minnie (below left) is particularly sweet. A natural lap dog who wags her tail 5,614 times a day, she’s also one tough pooch. In 2003, she was hit by a semi. She lived as a stray for another 8 or 9 months before a shelter took her in. Her back hip was so destroyed, she was about to be put down. That’s when Ali adopted her, hired a surgeon, and rehabbed her back to health. She has the slightest limp to this day, but knowing this story — and seeing that happy little tail wagging all the time — is enough to melt my cynical, dog-loathing heart.

As for Smudge? He’s the biggest optimist I’ve ever met, human, animal or otherwise. Stroll through the kitchen or by the dining room table, and there he is, on his hind legs, silently begging for food with a smile on his face (below right). His success rate is roughly 1 in 88 begs, but that doesn’t stop him. Doe eyes, dangling tongue, a paw tugging at the air … The mutt is a frickin’ comedian.

And finally, here’s a close-up of Minnie in front of the Christmas tree. The yellow spots in her fur? Yeah, that’s hair dye from when Jason dyed her burgundy and gold for a Redskins game. Let’s just say that at 4-11, even happy little Minnie is disappointed in the Redskins.

Pretty soon I’ll be posting images from a day trip we took to colonial Williamsburg, Virginia. Ah yes, travel photography. Good to get back at it. Look for that soon.

On Saturday, Hailey and I did a family portrait shoot with the Halls — Bryce, Marni, Oliver and Harrison — at their Centennial home. Marni is my sister-in-law’s sister; she was the maid of honor at Ben and Amy’s wedding while I was the best man.  So we’ve known each other for roughly 15 years, and it’s such a treat to see her and her wonderful family these days, especially since Hailey and I are expecting in March, making their two-month-old son Harrison an automatic play buddy for our baby.

We did much of the shoot in their front room, which for me was conveniently empty and east facing, making it very studio-like with lots of natural light (yes!). Their two-year-old son Oliver took only a few minutes to warm up to us (after all, it had been a few months since we last hung out). He showed us some of his awesome toys in his play room, and then he had fun jumping off an ottoman onto a massive, pillowy, stuffed sheep chair. He’s also a natural in front of the camera. Look at that smile and pose!

Harrison was born just two months ago, and he’s at that super sweet age where his eyes search everything and he’s smiling a bit. The blanket in these images below was knitted by Harrison’s grandmother, Linda (Bryce’s mom).

After the shoot at their house, and a little lunch, we all went to the Colorado Railroad Museum in Golden. This place is awesome. Locomotives and cabooses of all kinds, a Galloping Goose engine that makes circuits, and all sorts of memorabilia in the gift shop. I’m not a model-train collector by any stretch, but we’re definitely hitting this place up when our child is old enough to love it like Oliver does.

Thanks to Marni and Bryce for such an awesome shoot. Really fun, really engaging and easy-going. What more could a photographer ask for? We had a blast!