A Reading with Coco Picard and Devin King, in tandem with "Underneath"

Earlier this Summer, I invited two of my very talented friends Caroline (Coco) Picard and Devin King to do a reading at Niomi Fawn’s Show Pony Gallery while my painting show “Underneath” was on view. They just moved to Santa Fe from Chicago this Summer, and it was the perfect opportunity to get to hear more of their recent work. We’ve been friends for over a decade. I first met Coco outside a gallery opening in Chicago. We chatted about arctic explorers, hit it off, and later worked together on her publication of The North Georgia Gazette.

Coco Picard reading from a recent comic.

Devin King reading his new poem “Carousel”

Coco Picard wrote a letter to the paintings in the exhibition, calling up our shared history and letters that I used to write to the ocean. She read this in the gallery, and then read a selection from a graphic novel called “Meowsers” that she is currently working on, excerpts are shared below.

Excerpt from “Meowsers” - image courtesy of Coco Picard.

Excerpt from “Meowsers” - image courtesy of Coco Picard.

Excerpt from “Meowsers” - image courtesy of Coco Picard.

Devin King read from his poetry book “The Resonant Space” and a new poem created for the reading, “Carousel”, which is excerpted below.

Carousel by Devin King

     For Rebecca Mir Grady

I love the summer plays.

     The ceremonial burial in the ground,

     the ceremonial burning,

     the ceremonial

     plunging     into water

     of the representative

     of the fertilization

                       spirit

                                 that

           now yellow

                        will not

turn green          until

next     spring.

In Bavaria,

                  the Whitsuntide Pfingstl dressed in leaves,

                                                                                                water plants,

                                                                                                                         and a peony cap

is soused. 

In mimicry,

his head

is chopped     off.

He is the Jack-in-Green,

the worshipper

clad in the god

under whose protection

he desires to put himself.

At Palermo,

                      there is a still

more realistic     representation.

     A real

          old woman

               to whose neck

                    a bladder

                          of blood

                                          is tied.

Our fertility

means nothing

to the ocean.

—Excerpt courtesy of Devin King

The Grand Complication by Devin King and the Chronicles of Fortune by Coco Picard

Devin King’s newest book “The Grand Complication” is now available from Kenning Editions. The book launches in Chicago with a reading on September 7th, at 4pm, at the Dial Bookshop with Daniel Borzutzky and Olivia Lott. He’ll also be at Wolfman Books in Oakland on October 25th with Patrick Durgin, and at Poetic Research Bureau in LA, also with Patrick Durgin. I’m excited that I just got my hands on a copy. It’s a beautifully designed book and I’m loving it so far, with all its dizzying musicality.

If you’re in Santa Fe, stop in and see the show “Underneath” while it’s still up, through August 30th, at Show Pony Gallery, 501 Franklin Ave. I’ll be hosting gallery hours this weekend, August 17th from 2-6pm and August 18th from 1-4pm - come say hello! There will also be a performance of the Sacrament of Tears with Niomi Fawn and the time beings (Ni, Eka, Aine), on Saturday August 24th at 6pm. You can hear more about my work in the show and practice in the newest episode of “A Creative Excuse”, the podcast by Frank Rose of Hecho A Mano. It’s my first time ever being on a podcast, and to be honest, I’m too nervous to listen to it. So have a listen and let me know how it goes!

A bit more about Caroline and Devin:

Caroline (Coco) Picard is a writer, publisher, and curator. Her writing has appeared in Artslant, ArtForum (critics picks), Flash Art International, and Paper Monument, among others. She is the Executive Director of the Green Lantern Press—a nonprofit publishing house and art producer in operation since 2005. Fiction and comics appear under the name Coco Picard. Her first graphic novel, The Chronicles of Fortune, was published by Radiator Comics in 2017. www.cocopicard.com

Devin King is the poetry editor for The Green Lantern Press. A narrative poem, The Grand Complication, is out now from Kenning Editions. Previous books and chaps: CLOPS, These Necrotic Ethos Come the Plains, and The Resonant Space. Criticism on poetry and sound studies can be found at The Chicago Review, Make Magazine, Plume Poetry, Dusted, and Critical Inquiry.

A Night in the Pecos Wilderness

After work on Friday, we packed up our camping gear and hit the road. It’s a little over an hour to the Pecos Wilderness from Santa Fe, so it was getting late when we finally got there. We had read online that there was water at the campground, but we realized that the campground we wanted to stay at was not the one we remembered the name of, and there was no water. But we had just enough for the night and for a little coffee in the morning.

We took our tent and went to check out the spots. I was shielding my eyes from the setting sun when someone started waving at us from a picnic table. Friends also thought this was the best spot to camp. We pitched our tent in a site next to theirs, and joined them for a campfire. How wonderfully random to run into friends in the woods. And lucky for us as they had a water filter, so we filled up on water from the nearby creek.

So close to the Solstice, the sun sets quite late. There was light in the sky till almost 9. With the fading light, the temperature began to fall, and the smoke from campfires drifted in and out of the trees, creating a misty, almost spooky and ethereal feeling in the forest.

There’s a creek that runs along the campground, and it creates a lovely background noise. In our tent, falling asleep, we saw light from flashlights bounce around the tent and trees, but couldn’t hear anyone walking past, only the sound of the creek.

In the morning, it was quite chilly and there were campfires again, with some morning smoke drifting in the trees as the sun rose and the day grew warmer. Soni made us coffee on the little camp stove, and we sat in our camp chairs, bundled up, and wrote our morning pages. I’d been having an awful week. I still wasn’t sure what to do about some challenges that had come up, but everything felt better in the woods that morning.

It certainly helped that there was zero cell phone reception where we were. I have a hard time not checking my phone constantly, so heading off to the woods where there’s no signal is often the only way I take a break.

We packed up camp, and headed onto a nearby trail to look for some rare wildflowers. Pictured above, our friends had told us about the yellow lady slipper, and how it rarely blooms in New Mexico. The yellow lady slipper is in the orchid family and while more commonly found in the Rockies and further north, they were blooming like crazy in the forest near where we were camping.

We decided to go look for the caves that were nearby. We had hiked this trail last summer, but somehow missed the caves, so this time we kept our hiking book at an easy reach the whole time, determined to find them. The wildflowers, not just the yellow lady slippers, were blooming all over, and I kept slowing us down to take a picture.

Look out for a cairn on the left side, and then there’s a short trail to the creek where you can see a cave across the way. Then head back onto the main trail and look out for a cairn on the right side. There will be a small clearing and a path to the caves, our guide book told us.

We found it just after another couple did, so we hung back to let them explore them on their own. While we perched on a rock across the creek from the caves, it started to rain. We got our chance to cross the log bridge to the caves, and finally got to see inside. The creek runs into the cave and there are three entrances. It was pretty wet and we didn’t have a headlamp, so we didn’t go back too far, but it was fun to see them. A large group arrived and they all started to cross over and their wasn’t enough room for all of us, so there were some very awkward moments while we waited to try to cross back.

The rain was light at first, and to be honest, it was welcome. After the chill of the morning, it had gotten really hot in the full sun, and we were discussing the possibility of jumping in the creek at some point. But the rain picked up and stayed steady, so we were thoroughly soaked on the way back.

Some weeks it’s hard to get out to the forest, or desert for a hike, or even a visit. But whenever we do, the rewards are so worth it.

Photo Session - Turner Mark-Jacobs at the New Mexico History Museum

Last week, Turner Mark-Jacobs and I got up bright and early and headed to the New Mexico History Museum for a portrait session before it opened to the public. It’s always fun to be in a musuem before/after hours, when everything is all quiet and it feels almost like a movie set. It’s been a while, since my days working at the Museum of Contemporary Art in Chicago many years ago.

Located just off of the Santa Fe Plaza, the museum was hosting an exhibition of Mark-Jacobs’ illustrations of the Massacre of Don Pedro Villasur in 1720. Commissioned by the New Mexico History Museum, Mark-Jacobs’ watercolor and ink drawings have also been turned into a small book that is available in the museum gift shop. The full size illustrations are framed and on view in the Segesser Gallery.

Mountain Time: Crater Lake, Cathedral Lake and Mt. Elbert

In August, the day after my birthday, Soni and I drove to Colorado for the long weekend, up to the Aspen area for a few days, to do some hiking, relax, and see a friend living in nearby Carbondale.

The drive up was beautiful, on 285/24 through the Collegiate Peaks. We turned off on CO 82 and stopped in Twin Lakes for coffee. It was rainy and misty, and the lakes were beautiful. Twin Lakes is a small little town but seems to get a lot of folks passing through. I told Sonia I wanted to come back and camp or stay in the B & B. After Twin Lakes, we took Independence Pass through the mountains to Aspen. It was jaw-dropping, beautiful, and terrifying. I was glad Sonia was driving. And that it was daylight, even if it was raining. 

We stayed in an Airbnb in Snowmass Village just outside of Aspen. When I was picturing it before we left, I had imagined the Taos Ski Village but a little bit bigger. Snowmass Village was actually much larger, with tons of condo buildings, restaurants and shopping. It ended up being pretty nice, we could walk to dinner in the evening instead of driving into Aspen. 

It rained the next morning as well, but as soon as it started to let up, we headed down into Aspen for some lunch, and then to the famed Maroon Bells. The peaks called the Maroon Bells get their coloring because they are made up of a lot of mudstone, like the cliffs at Blomidon in Nova Scotia. This also makes them prone to rockslides, and extremely dangerous for climbing. They are beautiful and very photogenic. The Maroon Bells are hard to get to, as no cars are allowed up during the day, so you have to take a shuttle. They are so popular that in the 1980s park management banned cars because the pollution from all the exhaust was killing the wildflowers. Today, I’m told much of it has been restored. It was totally worth the wait to see this stunning protected area. We just had enough time to make it up to Crater Lake and back down with a few minutes before the last shuttle headed down the mountain. The Crater Lake trail is an out and back 3.8 mile trail that gets a lot of foot traffic. It’s a pretty trail, fairly easy, and short enough to do in a hurry. The lake was pretty low this time of year and there was little snow on the mountains. After a winter with a lot less snow than usual, water levels seem to be low in a lot of areas - in Maroon Bells, and as we saw later on in Nederland, and in many places here in New Mexico. 

Maroon Bells

Very happy to be on vacation, at Crater Lake with Soni

We saw a lot of Gray Jays on this trip. This one was hanging out by Crater Lake.

The Maroon Bells at Crater Lake

Crater Lake

This is the view of Maroon Bells that gets photographed the most! This shot was taken from the walking path just off of the main trailhead where the shuttle drops visitors off. I couldn’t not take one as well, it’s beautiful.

In the Aspens

Maroon Lake

The next day we decided to go on a longer more strenuous hike to Cathedral Lake. The trail is a 5.3 out and back trail up to the lake, and it’s rated difficult. It was a beautiful trail, and a beautiful day for the hike. The hardest part was towards the end, almost to the lake, when the trail gets very steep. There were a lot of people on the trail that day, and you have to go pretty slow at this point, so it also ends up being a bit of a bottleneck. But once you’re up, the rest of the hike is relatively flat out to the lake. The peak next to the lake really does look like a cathedral, and I’m a sucker for an alpine lake, so we were very pleased. Being late August, most of the wildflowers were gone, but there were still a few here and there along the trailside, adding color to the greens and darks of the mountains. 

After the hike, we drove to Carbondale to meet up with a friend of mine from Maine, Allegra, who has been working on trails all summer in the White River National Forest. She was still on her way down the mountain to meet us but recommended some river hot springs for us to visit in the meantime. Penny Hot Springs is a cluster of small pools on the Crystal river just outside of town. They can get pretty crowded. We found a good hot spot to sit and soak in the pools for a bit, and then headed into to Carbondale to meet her. We had dinner at a fun diner and got to hear about her summer of trail work (she loved it!). She’s been doing work on trails all over the forest, some in the Maroon Bells, and elsewhere. And if you want to see what the Maroon Bells look like now that they are covered in snow - there are some good photos on Allegra’s instagram.

Cathedral Lake

wildflowers on the Cathedral Lake trail

The general plan for our trip was to stay in Aspen/Snowmass for three nights, hanging out and doing some shorter hikes during the day. Then we would drive to Mt. Elbert, near Leadville, and camp near the trailhead so that we’d be ready to try our very first 14er (14,000 feet high mountain). The weather decided not to cooperate with us, and we had to move our hike up a day. So, on Monday morning, we got up at 4am, packed up our car and drove to the trailhead. Thankfully, again, Sonia did the driving. Because heading out so early meant that we were on the windy Independence Pass in the dark, spooking some of the deer that were out in the early morning. 

Sunrise at Twin Lakes, on the way to Mt. Elbert

We got to the trailhead around 6:30am. It was so damn cold as we packed up our gear for the hike. The North Mt. Elbert trailhead is at about 10,000 feet, so it’s higher up and colder than where we’d been staying in Snowmass, at about 8,000 feet. While it felt a bit was a bit crazy to get up at 4am and drive for two hours before hiking for 8+, we would have been really cold camping out near the trailhead. 

We were still cold when we started on the trail by 7am, but there’s a good incline fairly early on so we soon warmed up a bit and were able to take off our warmest layers. It’s a pretty trail, mostly wooded until we got up to tree line. Once we got to tree line, it became significantly harder. Soni had read up on the trail guide ahead of time and knew that there were three “false peaks” which really came in handy. False peaks are when you think you can see the top, but the top is actually beyond it. It was actually nice to know that, but I still found myself pretending that I was almost there with each one. We took a lot of breaks, had a lot of snacks. The trail is steep, and the elevation gain really started to get to me above tree line, so I just always wanted a break to catch my breath until we got to the top. 

On the way up Mt. Elbert

The weather was really clear, sunny, and very hazy. With no chance of thunderstorms, we could take our time getting up to the top and back down again to tree line. The next day (our original Mt. Elbert day) called for thunderstorms all day. 

I’m not sure where it was along the trail, it was close to the top, but don’t know how far or what the elevation was, but I hit a pretty big breaking point and almost lost it. The trail started to get really eroded, with softer dirt, and rocks sliding everywhere. It was very much a scramble, and a steep one. It also gets windier as you get higher, and I felt really unbalanced. I pretty much felt like I was going to fall off the mountain. I went really slowly and took a lot of breaks, but still had a hard time catching my breath. In part from the elevation, part from the anxiety (can I really do this?), it was hard to breathe, and I finally took Soni’s offer of the can of oxygen we’d brought along. We made it past that section, and up to an equally steep very lichen covered rocky section, and I had a similar panic. I had to stop for a bit longer here. This portion of the trail was still tricky, but the rocks were bigger here and felt like they weren’t going anywhere, so I found myself a seat, gripped the rocks and closed my eyes. After a while, my breathing returned to normal, and I finally began to relax.

After a break, we continued up the rest of the way. It was still hard, but the panic didn’t come back. At this point, as we passed folks on their way back down, they were sincere when they said, “almost there!”. Also, we passed a few older hikers, one who said he’d had five knee surgeries, who all said variations of “if we can do it you can do it”. Which sounds cheesy, but at that point I really appreciated it. 

the hazy view from the top of Mt. Elbert

We made it to the top, finally! There was actually a fair amount of wind cover if you stayed on one side of the top, so it was quite comfortable to be up there for a rest before heading back down. There are also a few shelters that I’m sure come in handy on rough weather days. There were lots of folks at the top. Many who we’d been on the trail with at some point. A few runners, and a pair of mountain bikers with their bikes who took our photo with our camp stove and picnic lunch. To be honest, having had such a hard time walking up the mountain, I was completely flabbergasted by the runners and bikers. But maybe once you’ve done more of this kind of thing it’s less daunting. I also heard someone say that some folks once drove a jeep up to the top. 

Soni’s best hiking trick is to bring the camp stove up and heat up some veggie chili for lunch, it’s better on top of a mountain.

very tired, but happy to be at the top!

This fella also made it up there, but not sure when…

At the top, you could see pretty far out, but everything was dimmed by the haze. Some other hikers said that it was all the smoke from the nearby fires that was causing the haze, and that there was a smoke warning in the area. This, of all things, made me feel better. Not because there was a fire, but because the added smoke in the air makes it harder to breathe at high altitudes and this made me feel like less of a wimp for struggling so much. No plans for another one, but it perhaps it won’t be as hard?

Last of the wildflowers on the mountain

The Cottonwood Hot Springs are in Buena Vista, about an hour and a half drive from the trailhead. After we made it down, we headed straight there. We pitched the tent next to the river and headed straight for the first pool. It was getting late, so we just did a quick dip, and then went into town for dinner. When we got back to the springs, we went back in for another soak, and then straight to bed. I have never slept so well in a tent in my entire life. The combination of exhaustion and the sound of the river, I slept ten hours straight no problem. We spent the morning in the hot springs and then headed back to Santa Fe. Surprisingly, neither of us were sore from the hike. The hot springs did their magic.

The rock pools at Cottonwood Hot Springs. This one was the hottest!

My dad sent me flowers for my birthday the day before we left, so I decided to bring them on the road trip with us. Here they are, dressing up our campsite at Cottonwood Hot Springs.  

Mountain Time: Ice Lake

In July, before the forests in Santa Fe opened back up, Soni and I headed to Colorado for some mountain time. 

We drove up the night before and stayed at a motel in Durango. On the way, just past Abiqui, New Mexico, we saw smoke in the distance. With fire season well under way in New Mexico and Colorado, and the summer rains only just begun, the fire danger was pretty high. Neither of us had any cell service to call it in, so we kept driving, paying attention to the mile markers as we passed. We rounded a big curve and were suddenly upon the fire, and a line of cars. It appeared to be a brush fire just at the edge of the road, possibly started by a cigarette tossed out a car window. A fire truck and police car were already there, with more coming up behind us. The fire crews worked quickly and put the fire out while we waited to pass. Forty-five minutes later, we had the go ahead and made our way slowly past the fire remnants. A burned-out van was on the side of the road, most likely abandoned, and there were scorch marks left on the pavement. 

The rest of the drive was uneventful, and we stayed the night in Durango, Colorado and got up early to drive to the trailhead, near Silverton. On the way, we passed some of the burn scars from the 416 fire that had been raging around Durango for the previous month. There were signs along the way warning of the dangers of subsequent mudslides. The road between Durango and Silverton is a narrow windy mountain road and I’m thankful Sonia is always up for the driving on these because they terrify me. (Also, we found out later on, that not long after we headed back to Santa Fe, and passed back through Durango, part of road washed out in the rain storm.)

Coming up on Silverton, the mist was still hanging out in the valley, slowly burning off as the sun rose. The mist and the mountains made me think of the mountain cloud formation that features heavily in the Clouds of Sils Maria

From Silverton, we turned onto a dirt road and drove for a ways before arriving at the campground and parking lot by the trailhead for Ice Lake. This hike is rated strenuous so I was a little intimidated, but excited for the challenge. It’s one of Sonia’s favorite hikes. Last summer she sent me a photo of her picnicking at the lake, and I’d been like “what is this amazing place and when can we go?”. 

The first part of the trail is forested and goes along a stream. The trail guide online recommended crossing it as early as possible. There’s a trail on both sides for a while, but the further up crossings are more difficult (as we saw later on). The wildflowers were very abundant next to the water. Much more so than we’d seen in New Mexico with the lack of rain. We found that the bugs were also more abundant in Colorado, and we had to bum some bug spray from fellow hikers. 

The trail climbs steadily, with a number of switchbacks. Eventually it opens up into a high valley, full of wildflowers and a small lake. A lot of folks camp out here overnight, and make the final ascent the next day. We saw a number of tents nestled in among the trees. We walked through a ridiculously beautiful alpine meadow full of tall wildflowers and made it to the edge, crossing over a stream and began the final ascent. The last part of the trail is the hardest. There’s a little bit of rock scramble, but mostly it’s just a steep trail at the end. Lots of folks were going up and down, and I was so out of breath that I didn’t mind stopping every other minute to let someone pass us. 

Ice Lake is one of those crazily colored deep blue alpine lakes. I can try to describe it, but I took so many photos that I’ll let them do the telling. Ice Lake is truly a beautiful spot. Surrounded by snowy peaks, waterfalls, and a river heading down the valley, the setting was perfect. Exactly as Soni had described. We picnicked at the water’s edge and watched a few brave folks jump in. It was pretty chilly so we weren’t even tempted to join them. 

A fellow hiker told us that there are about 11 lakes in the area. Ice Lake is the main attraction, with a smaller lake right next to it, and a few other smaller ones up towards and past the waterfall. In the opposite direction is another lake (and more?).

Later on, back in Santa Fe, I looked up “why is ice lake so blue” and found a couple of pieces explaining why a lot of alpine lake were so blue. It has nothing to do with the altitude, but rather what is in the water. Which makes more sense given that the surrounding lakes have nothing on the turquoise waters of Ice Lake. A lot of the water in the lake comes from melted glaciers, and with the melted glaciers comes glacial flour or rock flour. The glaciers rub against rocks and create a fine powder that gets distributed into the lake water as they melt. The particles are really light so they don’t sink to the bottom, instead floating in the middle and near the top of the water. When the light hits the lake, it’s distorted by the particles and we see turquoise.

The one downside to the beauty of Ice Lake is that it’s so popular and photogenic that there were also 3-4 drones circling the lake most of the time we were there. As a photographer, I can understand why anyone would want aerial footage of the lakes if they can get it – they’re jaw-droppingly gorgeous. But the drones sound like enormous insects/mini planes swarming and they end up being incredibly stressful and unpleasant to be around. 

The clouds were rolling in and we wanted to escape the drones, so we headed up the trail just a bit further to investigate the other lakes and waterfall. There were two small lakes near the waterfall, each fairly shallow and offering a lot of contrast to the deep blue of Ice Lake. We kept climbing until we reached a larger lake, with the remains of a structure in pieces next to it. Some of the roofing had blown away and was sitting at the bottom of the smaller nearby lake. I couldn’t imagine trying to build a hut at 11,000 feet, especially given the state it was in now. The clouds really started to build up, and it was after noon, so we decided it was time to head back down. 

I was really slow making it back to Ice Lake because I wanted to keep photographing all of the flowers. I found a tiny wildflower bouquet that someone had picked and then abandoned lying in the middle of the trail. I stopped again to photograph it, to give it a little more life before putting it back alongside the trail for someone else to find. 

Going down is always easier, though the steepest part was still a challenge. I love how the view changes, I feel like I always see more when we are going down. With the toughest climb behind me, it’s easier to appreciate the views!

On the way down, we passed a number of groups that had big packs and looked like they were planning to camp just before the top. Also, several kids accompanied their groups with their own kid-sized packs. We wished them luck getting up there before the rain came. 

We made good time getting down but didn’t manage to beat the rain. We pulled our raincoats on with the first few drops and picked up the pace. We could tell that we were getting close, and it really started to pour and then hail so we took off running. Sonia’s sunglasses were on her head so to keep them from flying away, I put them in my raincoat pocket and then forgot all about them for weeks. We thought that her brand-new multi-colored sunglasses that fit perfectly over her everyday glasses were gone until we got caught in another rainstorm and I re-discovered them in my pocket. 

I’ve started making a drawing after each of our big hikes or trips, and here is the sketch from Ice Lake - wildflowers of course!

Oaxaca Sketchbook

At the end of December, 2015, I was scrolling aimlessly through Instagram. Totally burnt out, and not sure what to do next, I stumbled upon a post about an info session for a new week-long creative residency that would be held in Oaxaca, Mexico. It doesn't take much convincing that escaping the Chicago winter in February is a good idea. So a month and a half later I found myself on an overnight flight to Oaxaca City, Mexico headed for the first iteration of the Pocoapoco creative residency. Here are a few sketches and photographs from my week there.

the first morning in Mexico

Santo Domingo

Monte Alban with Sarah, Elissa and Aimee

A stela at Monte Alban

The view from Monte Alban

My favorite wall in Oaxaca

Elissa and I went to visit some palenques outside of the city.

Agave prepped for mezcal making

agave watercolor / notes for a zine

at the palenque

Sunset at the palenque

My favorite garden

Watercolors dry fast here

The Artist Colony in Duved, Sweden

Last Summer into Fall, I traveled to Sweden for an artist residency organized by an old friend of mine. Flying first into Stockholm, I joined Malin, Alex, and Ava, where we packed up the car for another road trip, taking everything we could fit for the journey north to Jämtland. Along the way we stopped at the loveliest truck stop I've ever been to, where I saw the first of many Swedish rainbows. 

The view from the loveliest truck stop!

We stayed in a beautiful wooden mountain cabin nestled in the woods in a small town close to Åre. 

The Right of Public Access in Sweden allows everyone to walk freely through the Swedish countryside, with respect to both the land and property owners. So walk freely we did, up into the forests, gathering mushrooms and lingon berries along the way. 

Malin gathering lingonberries

Souvas is a traditional nordic dish. We prepared some with the berries and mushrooms that we gathered in the forest. 

To make Souvas you need: 

Smoked and dried reindeer meat

Red onion

Garlic

Chanterelles and gypsy mushrooms

Lingonberries

Crème fraîche

Seasoning to taste

Then, serve with potatoes and lingonberries.

Tännforsen is Sweden's largest waterfall, and was just a short drive from where we were staying. We packed a picnic, and hiked the trail down from the top of the waterfall to the bottom, where it opened into a lake, and found the perfect spot for lunch. 

Åreskutan

It’s peak long ago smoothed over from years of glaciers, Åreskutan is all picture takers hikers and bikers in the summer and packed with skiers come wintertime. 

Of course once we got to the top of the mountain, I realized that I'd forgotten my camera's memory card back at the cabin so I only got a few camera phone pictures. 

At the top of Åreskutan in the middle of a swirl of clouds we picnicked in this warm hut. As we began to make our way down the mountain, the clouds began to clear. The sun came out and the view was even more spectacular than I'd anticipated. 

You can find a hyperlapse video of the trip down the mountain here. 

A day of shooting at a local farm. I wouldn't mind if I never left this spot...