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…

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.

Adam Huggins (below) is one of my best friends. We’ve known each other since our freshman year in college, and we really shouldn’t be friends anymore. Nothing personal. It’s just that freshman year was the only time in our lives that we lived near each other. He transferred to Wake Forest, and has lived in Birmingham, Richmond and now Nashville. Friendships normally don’t survive that, even in the era of Facebook. For God’s sakes: we were 18 the one time we hung out consistently.

I’m not bragging or trying to suggest that our friendship is made of brawn and steel. It is what it is. But somehow it’s stayed relevant and significant for both of us over the years (of course, a 72-hour trip to Hawaii to see U2 in 2006 — his idea, not mine — helped keep the glory days going).

So Adam is finally getting on with his life: he just finished his nine grueling years of med school and residency and is now a doctor — which means I expect to fly on his private jet to Ketchum, Idaho in the near future — and he met a wonderful girl, Tess, and married her in mid-August. Hailey and I flew up to Boise and drove to Ketchum for a spectacular four-day weekend to be a part of the festivities. Adam asked that I be one of his groomsman.

So as a wedding gift, we offered to photograph the rehearsal dinner, and these are some of those pictures. Adam was alright with it (he was hoping we’d get him a set of bamboo table runners from Crate + Barrel) as long as we enjoyed the evening at the same time.

First off, Ketchum is a gorgeous little town. It’s a special place for Tess, having lived there after college, and the way they did this wedding was perfect. They rented a big house for multiple families to stay in for the week, and then the backyard doubled as the ceremony and reception venue.

After we went through our ceremonial paces, everyone piled into a school bus for a one-hour ride north to the Galena Lodge for the rehearsal dinner. In the early evening light we passed through Hemingway’s country in all its glory — braided rivers, dense willows, robust pines and rolling mountains. Classic Idaho.

The Galena Lodge is a magnificent property. They ran carriage rides to the nearby ghost town on the hour, and the catering was pretty damn good.

Here are some images from the evening.

Adam’s Dad is also a doctor, and he gave a very moving toast to his son just before dinner. On a personal note, getting to know Adam’s family better was the highlight of the trip for me. Such a warm, kind, compassionate and generous group of people.

So as us groomsmen were standing around waiting for the ceremony to begin the next day, Adam brings up that he has an extra ticket to the U2 show, opening night, in Chicago, in early September. His friend Neil has to take a rain check and “it’s yours if you want it.”

“Thanks man,” I say. “Let me see what’s going on and crunch some numbers and see if I can make it work.”

This being Adam, yours if you want it quickly morphed into you’re coming, it’s been decided for you.

At the end of the night as we were saying our goodbyes and wishing the newlyweds the best, Adam shook my hand and said “I’ll see you in Chicago.” That’s Adam.

<<More on the Chicago trip in another post, but you can view video I shot of “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For” on my Flickr page.>>

Summer’s end is certainly weighing heavily on me these days. Not that I can’t handle the cold — it’s that I can’t handle the torrid pace of life. September: it’s next week. My God.

It’s been a snap-happy time for me and my shutter release. There was the trip to Steamboat Springs for the Balloon Rodeo, the remarkable reunion of the Reitzugs, a portrait session with Michaelanne Dehner, and three weddings (only one of which I’ve had time to post just yet). In the midst of it all, I managed to go backpacking zero times. I’m fairly certain I won’t even get a chance next summer either, but “woah is me.” I live in Colorado, one of the world’s most beautiful places, and I’m healthy and so is Hailey, and the future: oh, it couldn’t be brighter.

So, without more rambling, here are summer’s loose ends of photographs — little spare bits that didn’t quite fit into the story line of any blog posts, whether past or future. At the top, glacier lilies near Buffalo Pass. In early July, I went hiking with Tim Lamberton (below right) and bagged my 21st wilderness area — the midway point to bagging all of them in Colorado.

At left is me at my favorite place in Colorado — Great Sand Dunes National Park and Preserve. We stopped there en route to New Mexico for the family reunion. My cousin Nick, his wife Guilia and their adorable son Lorenzo (below) paid us a visit for a few days before hand, and since they were coming from Rome, well, how could you not see the Great Sand Dunes? We had to go, and Lorenzo had to fulfill his playing-in-the-muck quotient for this trip to America.

Once in New Mexico, we did countless things — among them the ambitious white seamless project, but we also did a half-day bug hunt with the fourth generation. That’s my nephew Isaiah (below right), pointing at the grasshoppers. The Nuggets jersey? His favorite piece of clothing. He doesn’t know who the Denver Nuggets are, let alone the first thing about basketball. He loves it because his favorite food is chicken nuggets. I love that boy.

And finally, a few golf shots from our recent trip to Idaho for Adam Huggins’ wedding. That’s Adam (below left), teeing up on the eighth at Sun Valley’s amazing golf course.

The views from the course — like this one from the second tee — were astounding. I love Idaho. Plan to go back when we have kids.

And as for golf course photography … yeah, I could definitely get into that.

Thanks for letting me have an indulgent and aimless blog post. Coming up: more from Adam and Tess’ wedding, a trash the dress shoot with Jodi and John, and a whole slew of great shots from Jacqie and Ken’s wedding.

Jodi, John and I met back in April at a coffeehouse in Denver to collaborate and discuss the details. It was clear early on that their love of the mountains, the outdoors and nature was a central part of their lives and would be reflected on their big day.

So Jodi asked that before the ceremony, we get a picture of her dress hanging from a pine tree.

We had just enough time before the rains set in to do a round of pre-ceremony portraits. This has been an unusually wet summer in Colorado, and this day was no exception. The skies were fairly cloudy through about 2pm and then the rains came in for a good four hours. However, I’ve always heard that rain on a wedding day is good luck, and I believe it: It rained on my wedding day!

Jodi’s cousin Amy designed the programs to the wedding (above).

Later this week, I’ll post more images of the post-ceremony shots from the Evergreen Hotel, the Little Bear (a local hangout where they popped in for a bit) and the reception.

We were there for the weekend of the Balloon Rodeo, a festival devoted to all things colorful and filled with hot air. What’s a balloon rodeo you say? Well, I’m not sure entirely, but based on attending the event, I think it goes like this: 30 balloons take flight during the first 90 minutes of daylight, and if the wind doesn’t send them down the valley, they compete in goofy games like a beanbag toss. Cattle, broncos and clowns have nothing to do with it … and PETA is no where to be found either.

Many of these shots were taken by my lovely wife Hailey, as she attended both Saturday and Sunday mornings’ festivities. (I went hiking all day with my buddy Tim Lamberton on Saturday…pics of that to come later).

As you’ll notice from many of my posts, Steamboat Springs is becoming a go-to hangout for us. We have access to a condo up there, and since its a good three hours from Denver, it’s right in that sweet spot: close enough to be convenient, far enough away to fully unplug.

Along for the trip were Hailey’s parents, our good friend Jenny Jordan (minus her husband Matt, who was at U.S. Nationals for Fencing) and the Lambertons. We drove up Friday, looked for moose on Rabbit Ears Pass, dined downtown, hiked Saturday while everyone else went to the Balloon Rodeo and the Art Fair, and then Sunday we all went tubing down the Yampa River. Sunday night’s drive home was a bit mournful — I’m increasingly having a harder time leaving the mountains after a weekend like that.

So anyway, back to the rodeo.

The balloons’ mass ascension takes place in a field just south of town. One of the “rodeo tasks” is to lift off, then dip the basket into this lake and lift back up again.

We also learned that the Upper Yampa River Valley is ideal for ballooning because of its “box winds.” At lower elevations, the winds take you down valley, but as you get higher up, they take you back up the valley. Doesn’t always work, but when it does, it saves gas for the chase vehicle.

OK, coming up I’ll have images from my day hike with Tim, photographs from John and Jodi Hardee’s wedding, plus a very personal project that involves the white seamless and almost everyone from my mom’s side of the family.

This past weekend, Hailey and I headed up to the family condo in Steamboat Springs, Colorado and had ourselves a little fun on 65-inches of packed powder. We even bought some skis. Yes, hard to believe, but this native Coloradan of nearly 30 years has never owned a pair of skis. Sad, shocking, sacrilegious even (to some). Alas, I’m now official. Funny thing is, I have always loved skiing. I’ve loved it since I started taking lessons with the Eskimo Ski Club in sixth grade up at Winter Park. But I’ve always rented, and until this family condo came within reach, I’ve conveniently put off buying skis because I didn’t see myself skiing often enough. Chalk that up to the exorbitant price of lift tickets and the horrific traffic on I-70.

Anyway, the weather over the weekend was splendid. Endless, uninterrupted blue sky (just look at that sky above left…photo credit goes to Hailey on that one), highs in the 40s and zero wind. While I haven’t yet figured out how to juggle skiing with photography, I did come up with a good strategy for shooting Steamboat this weekend. If I have a problem with shooting up there, its that I’m getting too familiar with the place. I need to see it new again, each time, which gets harder with each trip. So, my new plan is this: less is more.

Rather than drive all over the place looking for new things to capture, I’m just going to pick one or two spots and really work at them. In the case of MLK weekend, I picked the iconic Rabbit Ears Motel sign and the famous Steamboat barn, one at blue hour, the other in mid-morning when the ski area has emerged from shadow.

The heart was a nice touch and not done by us. Thanks to whomever drew it in the snow ahead of our visit.

Things are a-brewing for Hailey and I. We’re piecing together a vacation, one that promises to be ever-so-photogenic. I’ll let you know where we’re headed once we’re confirmed.

Well, this week it came off the press and I’m thrilled with the result. Here’s where the article begins. Click on the image for the full view!

And here is the second spread:

The guide won’t be in circulation for another two weeks or so, but once it is, you can request a copy through Colorado.com. For an online gallery of the trip, visit my portfolio site, TanagerPhotography.com, and click on the Travel galleries.

Special thanks go out to Kelly Faigin (the graphic designer who did such a great job picking out photos and laying out the photo essay…she even used one of my food photos), Hannah Pierce (the guide’s editor), Andrea Golod (head of the photo department) and Dusty Demerson (who conducted the photo class in Crested Butte that was the subject of the story).