Category: Travel

Jervis Inlet

Posted in British Columbia, Canada, Nature, Photography, Travel2 Comments

Photos by S.W. Cosgrove

Jervis Inlet runs 55 mi (89 km) from its head at the mouth of the Skwawka River to its opening into the Strait of Georgia near Texada Island. It is one of the principal inlets of the British Columbia Coast, about 59 mi (95 km) northwest of Vancouver, and the third of such inlets north of the 49th parallel, the first of which is Burrard Inlet, Vancouver’s harbor.

It is the deepest fjord on the British Columbia coast with a maximum depth of 670 m (2,200 ft).

The inlet is made up of three arms or reaches:

  • Prince of Wales Reach
  • Princess Royal Reach
  • Queens Reach

If dogs run free, why not me ~ In harmony with the cosmic sea

Posted in Dogs, Nature, Ocean, Photography, TravelLeave a comment

Photo by S.W. Cosgrove

If Dogs Run Free ~ Written by Bob Dylan

If dogs run free, then why not we
Across the swooping plain?
My ears hear a symphony
Of two mules, trains and rain
The best is always yet to come
That’s what they explain to me
Just do your thing, you’ll be king
If dogs run free

If dogs run free, why not me
Across the swamp of time?
My mind weaves a symphony
And tapestry of rhyme
Oh, winds which rush my tale to thee
So it may flow and be
To each his own, it’s all unknown
If dogs run free

If dogs run free, then what must be
Must be, and that is all
True love can make a blade of grass
Stand up straight and tall
In harmony with the cosmic sea
True love needs no company
It can cure the soul, it can make it whole
If dogs run free

The day our daughter was born

Posted in Germany, Memoir, Photography, Story, TravelLeave a comment

Photo by S.W. Cosgrove

Early on a hot August day, we made a quick 2 a.m. run to the Rotes Kreuz Hospital in Wiesbaden, Germany. I called before we left our home in Königstädten, normally a 20-minute drive. There was no traffic at that hour, and I made it in less than 15 minutes. The doctor was already there waiting for us, and a room was ready. “Baby An Bord,” as the German bumper sticker said. We were soon to be parents.

My wife was in labor, but after several hours, the doctor decided to do a C-Section because she was becoming very fatigued. “She’ll need her strength for the days to come,” he said. I was relegated to the waiting room.

I paced the floor, waiting less than patiently. Within an hour, two nurses came into the room with our daughter, Shannon, wrapped in “swaddling clothes” – clothes that wrap an infant tightly in cloth to help the baby transition from the womb to the outside world.

The nurse placed her in my arms and said, “Hier ist Ihre kleine Tochter.” Her eyes were open and deep blue. Later she closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, her eyes were brown, like her mother’s. She was returned to her mother and I came in a little later to take this photo.

Wife and daughter were kept in the hospital for over a week with full care. The head nurse explained to me that they believed in keeping the mother safe and resting because “she’ll be plenty busy when she gets home.” An vast understatement, as we soon found out.

Theresa had a private room in the elegant old hospital on a hill overlooking the city of Wiesbaden on Schöne Aussicht Strasse – “Beautiful View Street.” And so it began.

Rincon Valley

Posted in Horses, Memoir, Nature, Photography, Story, TravelLeave a comment

Photo by SW Cosgrove

Riding horses on Rincon Valley trails under the Rincon Mountains, Tucson, Arizona. Spotted a cougar for part of the ride who was keeping an eye on us.

Home of the Jumping Cholla Cactus (Opuntia fulgida), which gets its name from spiny segments that detach so easily they seem to attack any creature that passes by. I found out the hard way.

See the USA in your Chevrolet

Posted in Cars, Memoir, music, Photography, Travel2 Comments

Photo by S.W. Cosgrove

Do you remember?

See the USA in your Chevrolet
America is asking you to call
Drive your Chevrolet in the USA
America’s the greatest land of all

On a highway, or a road along the levee
Performance is sweeter
Nothing can beat her
Life is completer in a Chevy

So make a date today to see the USA
And see it in your Chevrolet

Travelin’ east, Travelin’ west
Wherever you go Chevy service is best
Southward or north, near place or far
There’s a Chevrolet dealer for your Chevrolet car

See the U.S.A. in your Chevrolet.
The Rockies way out west are calling you
Drive your Chevrolet through the U.S.A
Where fields of golden wheat pass in review

Whether Trav’ling light or with a load that’s heavy
Performance is sweeter, oh.. nothing can beat ‘er
Life is completer in a Chevy
So make a date today to see the U.S.A

And see it in your Chevrolet

The song “See The U.S.A. In Your Chevrolet” (title as filed for 1950 copyright) is a commercial jingle from c. 1949, with lyrics and music by Leo Corday (ASCAP) and Leon Carr (ASCAP), written for the Chevrolet Division of General Motors.

The Changing Light

Posted in Memoir, Photography, Poetry, Travel4 Comments

Photo by S.W. Cosgrove

The view from my office window high above Market Street, looking up Van Ness, as the fog rolled in from the Golden Gate onto The City, changing day into night. I always had a sweater ready in the middle of summer.

The Changing Light by Lawrence Ferlinghetti

The changing light
                 at San Francisco
       is none of your East Coast light
                none of your pearly light of Paris
The light of San Francisco
                        is a sea light
                                       an island light
And the light of fog
                   blanketing the hills
          drifting in at night
                      through the Golden Gate
                                       to lie on the city at dawn
And then the halcyon late mornings
       after the fog burns off
            and the sun paints white houses
                                    with the sea light of Greece
                 with sharp clean shadows
                       making the town look like
                                it had just been painted

But the wind comes up at four o’clock
                                     sweeping the hills

And then the veil of light of early evening

And then another scrim
                  when the new night fog
                                        floats in
And in that vale of light
                      the city drifts
                                    anchorless upon the ocean