To the North Pole with 16,000 pounds of flour

A homespun scarecrow in Kodiak, Alaska keeps bald eagles out of the garden.

When Robert E. Peary prepared for his final attempt to reach the North Pole in 1909, his provisions included an astounding list of supplies: 16,000 pounds of flour, 10,000 pounds of sugar, 10,000 pounds of “biscuit”, 100 cases of condensed milk, 3,000 pounds of dried fish and 30,000 pounds of pemmican. The expedition was a success, largely due to Peary’s previous experience in the North which gave him the knowledge of “exactly what I wanted and how much of it.”

In today’s world, it’s difficult to wrap our heads around planning meals beyond tonight’s dinner and referring to a shopping list that contains 10,000 pounds of anything. One of my neighbors, a longtime resident of Kodiak Island, remembers when groceries arrived by ship — once a year. “I remember my first strawberry,” she once told me.

On February 13, the U.S. Department of Agriculture (USDA) released new 10-year agricultural projections, including food prices through 2021. How they can extend data points out to 2021 is beyond me, but after wading through the corn, poultry and beef projections (where’s the fish?), you get to the good stuff. Turns out we are thinking more about how and what we eat. Phil Lempert of SupermarketGuru.com for example, says more people are choosing to eat at home to save money. [Well, duh.]

Ever heard of Extreme Couponing? A new one on me. There are cooks out there who pride themselves on making the most for the least. Isn’t that what cooking from scratch, using basic ingredients is all about? I say issue a slow cooker and a copy of Joy of Cooking to every household.

Size matters, too. Americans are using smaller pieces of beef, chicken and pork (again, where’s the fish?) and filling the rest of the plate with grains and vegetables; which by the way, is just what the Dietary Guidelines recommend. So perhaps the upswing of a down-turned economy is that we not only save money but also eat healthier.

Last year, global food prices hit an all-time high. Whether you call it a time to tighten our belts or ditch the Doritos, I’m even more convinced that we have an obligation to ourselves and the world, to grow at least some of our own food. No room to garden? Grow herbs on a windowsill, sow a few salad greens in a container, or participate in a community garden.

What can we learn from Robert Peary’s grocery list? For one thing, he didn’t just drive his Suburban up to a big box store and load it up with 30,000 pounds of pemmican. The famous explorer was a master planner, and he knew a little something about nutrition.

“The absolutely essential supplies…are few, but they should be of the best quality,” he noted in his journal. “They should be prepared in such a way as to secure the maximum of nourishment.”

Interesting, eh? Securing the maximum of nourishment. Like making the most for the least. In terms of our own health, we need to cook from scratch more often; and shop with intention, keeping the motto, maximum nourishment in mind while navigating grocery store aisles, visiting a farmer’s market or buying seeds online.

In terms of the planet’s health, how about reducing the number of times you go to the store? Could you go for a week–or a month–without buying groceries?

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Dear Reader,

I’ve put together a Top 40 List of Vegetables to Grow; one that I share in my weekly column and with my Organic Gardening students. Though the varieties are more suited for Southcentral Alaska’s growing conditions, the list contains a lot of helpful information. If you’re interested, I’m happy to email you a copy.

Are your decisions tainted by “analysis paralysis”?

A woman celebrates the morning in Kodiak, Alaska. Marion Owen photo.

Dan Burns is a professional sports photographer. To pay the bills though, he shoots “anything that moves,” from dance rehearsals and polo matches to brown bears and pro football games. Based in Connecticut, Dan is an “in-the-trenches” kind of guy who also teaches workshops for Audubon groups and Wounded Warriors. So you can imagine that 30 years of experience brings a pocketful of insights, like this one:  ”Many people are afraid to fail,” he shared last week over the phone. “They suffer from paralysis by analysis.” As Dan elaborated, I realized that paralysis by analysis is an action-killer for photographers, doctors, gardeners–you name it.

Paralysis by analysis is where  you don’t take any action due to over-thinking about details or over-planning. “People end up frozen in a panic, unable to move forward,” Dan says. “They might bring their camera to a workshop, but they don’t take many pictures.”

Beginners often suffer from paralysis by analysis. Beginning gardeners, for example, might experience thoughts like these: What if my soil’s not right? What if my carrot seeds don’t come up? What if the dog gets into the daffodil beds? So let’s pick on gardeners for a bit (I can do that, since I too, am a gardener, so long as the weather here in Kodiak permits me to do so).

How to de-fuse analysis paralysis

Planning certainly helps when we start a new project but it shouldn’t go to the extent that it overwhelms us to the point where we fail to make a decision and take action; or give up part way through. Take this broad-based example: The hottest trend continues to be “grow your own” and organically (if possible), which is fueled by:

• Economic conditions
• The desire for better flavor
• Increased nutrition
• Food safety concerns
• Convenience

Seed retailers are noticing the heightened concern with nutrition among home gardeners. Evidence of this trend is found in the pages of 2012 seed catalogs where item descriptions feature levels of vitamins and other nutrients. So while the number of gardeners in the U.S. continues to rise, I’ll bet quite a few of them won’t be back after their first year. Most of them probably found vegetable gardening too much work or they felt overwhelmed as the season unfolded. Or they never even planted a seed.

In order to help gardeners overcome Analysis Paralysis, I’ve generated a list of tips to encourage folks to take action and reach for a trowel. Even if you’re NOT a gardener, I think you’ll find these tips enlightening:

Seven ways to beat analysis paralysis

1. Plan: You still need a plan no matter what, but avoid over-planning. If it’s your first time gardening, start small, plant a few things; begin with one raised bed or three containers on your deck.

2. Listen and learn: Experience is your best teacher, but there are many local gardeners who have blazed the trail before you. Attend garden club meetings and workshops. Online resources are great, but one-on-one “face mail” is better. Consider hanging a trowel around your neck when you do errands so people will recognize you as a gardener and strike up a conversation with you!

3. Just begin: After planning, listening and learning, stop asking “what if” questions. Place a seed order, prepare a garden plot and trust that you will learn true lessons along the way.

4. Forget perfection: Many photo-gardeners secretly wish their gardens and yards looked like something out of Better Homes and Gardens. Sure, it’s great to aspire to be the perfect gardener, but there’s practicality to consider, too. Do your best (that’s all anyone can expect), and learn, learn, learn from your mistakes.

5. Keep the momentum going: Once you start this season’s garden–however polite– do something each day to keep things moving forward. It might be something small like pruning a shrub, pulling weeds for ten minutes, cutting back dead perennials or cleaning out a hanging basket. If your garden is an indoor one, then re-pot a suffering houseplant. Every step is an accomplishment.

6. Learn to make decisions: This is an important skill that helps you overcome analysis paralysis. Practice your decision-making skills by setting mini goals or timelines. For example, what lettuce should I plant, bib or leaf? What pansies should I grow by the front door, orange or blue? When should I transplant broccoli seedlings, in May or June?

7. Hang around do-ers: The company you keep is one of the greatest influences to your well-being. Armchair gardeners simply talk about it; true gardeners have dirt under their nails. Volunteer to help a neighbor build raised beds or put up a hoophouse. Help with the community garden’s plant sale. You’ll accomplish more in the course of a day and feel better about yourself by hanging around half-full, not half-empty kind of people.

How your daily decisions shape your whole life

Bronnie Ware, an Australian nurse who spent several years caring for patients in the last 12 weeks of their lives, says that regrets are the worst things you can cling to during your lifetime. Bronnie shared her experiences in her book, The Top Five Regrets of the Dying. I’m not trying to be morbid here. Rather, I wish to share a slice of wisdom that continues to shape my life, my decisions. Bronnie writes of the phenomenal clarity of vision that people gain at the end of their lives, and how we might learn from their wisdom.

“When questioned about any regrets they had or anything they would do differently,” she says in an interview printed in The Guardian, “common themes surfaced again and again.”

What is the most common regret of all? “I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.”

In other words, don’t worry about whether your neighbor likes blue pansies or pink ones. Just grow them. If you want to erect a Saint Francis statue next to your lilac bush, then do so. “It is easy to see how many dreams have gone unfulfilled,” says Bronnie. “Most people had not honoured even a half of their dreams.”

Learning how to take good pictures; growing spinach for the first time, building a better mousetrap, starting a new business; it’s all the same stuff. Forget the “what if” questions and get growing, photographing, running, jumping, cooking…

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Thank you for stopping by. Have a wonderful week. You can also find me on Facebook at Marion Owen Photography and see more of my images at my main photography website: www.MarionOwenPhotography.com.

Brown bear running after salmon in Katmai National Park. Marion Owen photo.

Snowflakes: Pretty in Pink

Photograph of a real snowflake, taken in Kodiak, Alaska by Marion Owen. (Canon EOS 5D Mark II, ISO 100 1/4 sec)

Keys in hand, grocery list in my pocket, I head to the door for a round of errands.

While slipping on my gloves, I glance out the office window just long enough to watch several snowflakes make their way earthward. Finally, snow! I tossed the keys on the desk and scoot outside. Grabbing the black, 3-ring binder sitting on the barbecue, I hold it out at arm’s length like a beggar. One, two, three… the clear, individual snow crystals follow an air current down to the black plastic, and then touch down, oh so gently, like Apollo 11 landing on the surface of the moon. Magic fills the air as I prepare for what turns out to be 10-hour session of photographing snowflakes.

For five long days I had waited for snow. Outside, my camera-microscope waited by the barbeque, balanced on two milk crates in the wood shed. The weathermen teased me with forecasts of snow and single-digit temperatures, ideal snowflake conditions.

Photograph of a simple stellar dendrite snow crystal, by Marion Owen, Kodiak, Alaska (Canon EOS 5D Mark II, ISO 100 1/4 sec)

One after another the snowflakes come: Stellar dendrites, sectored plates, needles, double-plates, split plates, and snowflakes that look like cartoon characters. I work without gloves to allow for easy handling of the camera controls. But first I have to capture the snowflakes…

This is done by lifting a snow crystal off the notebook with the tip of a small paintbrush and transferring it to a glass microscope slide. While holding my breath I quickly focus and press the shutter release cable.

After 20+ years of practicing the art of snowflake photography, I still have a lot to learn. Lighting, for example, is very critical to illuminate an otherwise clear object. But I’ve picked up a few interesting factoids along the way. Like this one: Did you know that it takes only 15 minutes from the time the snow crystal begins to form around a tiny particle of dust (like a pearl around a grain of sand) to the moment it lands on my black notebook?

And that there are skinny snowflakes and fat snowflakes? Snowflake triangles and 12-sided snowflakes?

Photograph of a stellar dendrite snow crystal, by Marion Owen, Kodiak, Alaska (Canon EOS 5D Mark II, ISO 100 1/5 sec)

I suppose it’s easy to overanalyze snow crystals, how they form, what controls their shape and so on. Believe me, my mind craves to go there. But I’m reminded of a quote I read the other day, which helped me let go of the restlessness.

“One who mentally dissects and analyzes the botanical properties of a flower misses a full appreciation of its beauty. But one who focuses on how beautiful that flower is, allowing one’s intuitive feelings to respond to its pure essence, enjoys fully its loveliness.” – Paramahansa Yogananda

I hope you have a wonderful week. Thanks for stopping by. I’m finally off to do those errands I talked about at the beginning which includes mailing my seed orders for this year’s gardening season. Ah, the garden. That’s another story…

You can also find me on Facebook at Marion Owen Photography.

Kodiak Island Granola: Sorry Whole Foods, homemade is better

Granola. You know, that nondescript blend of whole grains and nuts that’s baked until crispy. What you might not know is that granola was invented way back in 1890s and was served at New York’s Jackson Sanitarium health spa. Humble beginnings. Then, in the 1960s, granola enjoyed a revival as a hippie cereal. Quaker, Kellogg’s, Trader Joe’s, Whole Foods–lots of companies jumped on the granola bandwagon. That’s all well and good, but the granola you buy is way too sweet. Your taste buds–and your body–deserve better.

So I’d like to share the granola recipe I use at home and for our bed-and-breakfast guests. Is it good? I can only say that I make dozens of batches every year. We give it away as Christmas gifts and send our guests home with bags of it so they have something healthy to nibble on during the flight home.

Give it a try, and let me know what you think. If you’ve never eaten much granola or you’re shy or clueless about how, I’ve listed 12 “how to eat” tips below.

Kodiak Island Granola
By Marion Owen, Kodiak Granola Company (just kidding)

1/2 cup water
1/2 cup oil
1/2 cup honey or maple syrup
1 cup peanut butter*
2 teaspoons vanilla

8 cups regular (not quick or instant) rolled oats
1 – 2 cups cup brown sugar
1 cup unroasted wheat germ
5-1/2 cups wide-stripped unsweetened coconut
2 cups shaved (slivered) almonds
2 cups cashews (odd-sized bits are fine, and less expensive)
3/4 cup raw sunflower seeds
1/2 cup ground flax seed (flax seed meal), sesame seeds or teff grain

Mix the five wet ingredients together in a saucepan and place on low to medium heat. Stir occasionally. Mix the dry ingredients in a separate large bowl.

When the liquid mixture begins to boil, pour it over the dry ingredients and toss with a spoon or rubber spatula until well mixed and the dry ingredients are evenly coated. Spread onto two or three large cookie sheets or jelly roll pans and bake at 250 to 275 degrees until light brown and toasted; this could take a couple hours. (I turn the oven off occasionally). Stir occasionally for even browning. It’s tempting to turn up the heat and hurry the drying-cooking process. (Don’t do this because the granola usually ends up too brown and unevenly dried.) Allow to cool thoroughly before storing it in airtight containers.

* You can substitute peanut butter with cashew butter, tahini (sesame butter) or almond butter

How to enjoy a good granola

1. Eat it as is (right out of the oven is best).
2. Enjoy it as your morning cereal, topped with yogurt or milk.
3. Stir it up with fruit and yogurt.
4. Top your favorite ice cream (to reduce the guilt factor).
5. Sprinkle onto pancakes and waffles; inside crepes.
6. Top off muffins and quick breads before baking.
7. Spoon some inside peanut butter ‘n jelly sandwiches.
8. Use as the topping for fruit cobblers and pies.
9. Serve it with warm rice pudding or tapioca pudding.
10. Fold it into brownie batter before baking.
11. Use as croutons on a tossed salad.
12. Create your own hiking snack by adding dried fruits and chocolate chips.

Snowflakes and Chocolate

Some people like to photograph penguins; I like to photograph snowflakes. Now you’d think that living in Kodiak, Alaska would provide ample opportunities to capture snowflakes with one’s camera. After all, we share the same latitude with Stockholm, Sweden.

Ah, but Kodiak Island’s weather is influenced by the warmish Japanese current, so we often end up with snow that resembles giant cotton balls; not the exquisite, 6-sided snowflakes you see in children’s books.

So to find snowflakes I must head north to Anchorage; more specifically, to Janet and Jerry George’s house. Once there, I set up my microscope + camera under a tarp, which has been draped over two sawhorses. It’s not the Ritz, but it works.

When the snow is falling, I spend as much time as I can outside. To dress for the part, I zip, button, snap and Velcro on many layers of clothes. I could pass as the Michelin man’s sister. Then I get to work, using a tiny paintbrush to transfer each snowflake to a glass microscope slide. After double-checking the focus, I snap the picture. I spend a lot of time on my knees, and all this must be accomplished within seconds. Oh, and I breathe out of the side of my mouth, like a swimmer. When I no longer can feel the shutter release button with my fingers, I retreat indoors to warm up, grab a fresh camera battery, use the bathroom…

On Day One, the flakes were not great: covered with frozen water droplets which gave the snowflakes a warty appearance. Time for a break. Janet must have been watching me through the kitchen window. She met me at the door. “Come on in and have some coffee. Fresh pot. I also have these new Dove bars. Dark chocolate with almonds.”

I pulled off a glove with my teeth and reached for a candy. Fumbling a bit, I peeled off the purple foil wrapper and noticed a message printed on the inside. It read:  “Renew your sense of discovery.”

“Mine says, ‘Feel free to be yourself,’ Janet said. We both laughed.

The next day, after chasing snowflakes for hours and then sitting down to a savory dinner of scallops (topped with marmalade and caramelized onions), Janet set a small dish of Dove bars on the table. “Just a little sweet to finish the meal.”

We unwrapped our candies. “Satisfy your sense of surprise,” Janet announced. Mine was, well, a little vague: “Stir your sense of pleasure.” Hmm, okay.

The third day began at 3:30 in the morning after I woke up, sensing a good flurry was happening. I suited up and headed out the door onto the deck. The air was still. An owl who-who-ed from a tree close by. Snow crystals fell like mini tumbleweeds, shimmering like tiny mirrors reflecting moonlight. For 30 minutes I collected and photographed prisms, plates, stars and yes, the tree-like, stellar dendrites as the classic snowflakes are called. I even saw a rare, 12-sided snowflake.

Then it was over, just like that as the falling snowflakes started taking on the form of tiny white poppy seeds. Then a strong breeze blew snow all over my equipment. Still, I didn’t mind. I was ecstatic, having  witnessed and photographed Nature’s magic. I opened the sliding glass door and stepped inside.

A little while later, Janet appeared in her nightshirt. “Coffee?”

As Janet massaged Pigafetta (the cat’s) neck and sipped coffee, I described the 12-sided snowflake and the beautiful, jewel-like plates.

Janet smiled and pushed the bowl of Dove bars towards me. We both selected one and peeled off the red foil. The words printed inside seemed to leap off the wrapper. I looked up at Janet. Her eyes were sparkling with playful delight.

Here’s what both of our Dove bar “fortunes” said:

“Catch snowflakes on your tongue.”

To see more of my snowflake and snow crystal images, visit my Snowflakes and snow crystals gallery. (You can even get yourself a snowflake mouse pad!)

To search for images on my website:

Thank you for stopping by,

Saint Cottonwood

I pulled over to the side of the road and parked near a chain link fence. Last week’s snow squeaked underfoot as I shuffled around the car: setting up the tripod, locking the camera into place and dusting the front of the lens. When I left the house, the thermometer read three degrees (F). I fumbled with my gloves and rubbed my hat against my forehead to ease the wooly itch.

I stomped in place to keep warm. The sunrise colors wouldn’t kiss the snowy mountaintops for another 20 minutes and my subject, the gnarly cottonwood tree I’d found the day before, wasn’t going anywhere soon. So I used the time to scout out good positions for taking the shot. Picking up the tripod, I wandered around, zig-zagged to and fro, peering occasionally through the lens to line up the tree with the mountain peaks. (I could have passed for a drunk on an early morning binge).

When everything felt right, I pulled a stick from my pocket and set in on the ground to mark the spot. I repeated the drill until I had four locations staked out.

Only thing was, all the locations were in the middle of the road.

By now the Earth’s shadow was lighting up the peaks with a salmon-pink glow. I moved into a position, but just as I prepared to squeeze the cable release, a blue pickup truck appeared in the dim light and headed right for me. Should I grab my equipment and run, or trust that the driver will see my red jacket and go around me? I gulped, smiled and waved my arms like an airline employee guiding a jet on the tarmac.

Whew. For the next 45 minutes, I conducted my photo-dance in the road: Snapping pictures, smiling and directing traffic.

While driving home, it occurred to me that some of those drivers maneuvering around the lady in red, were probably not very alert (pre-coffee) or were distracted: talking on their cell phone or rushing to an appointment. I could have been hit by a car. What was I thinking?

I’m not trying to be morbid here, but consider this: In an instant we may be required to leave this world, cancel all our appointments. Just like that. Makes you wonder, where are our thoughts during the course of the day?

Saints and other holy persons like Brother Lawrence (1611-1691) tell us that one of the best ways to get control over our random, runaway thoughts is to practice the presence of God (however you may perceive Him or Her). Brother Lawrence would go so far as to pick up a straw from the kitchen floor, all the while loving God.

This is not about religion, dear readers. It’s about improving our lot. Yesterday, while reflecting on that morning of photographing and directing traffic, I came across a quote by Mahatma Gandhi, a shining example of practicing the presence of God.

“If someone killed me and I died with prayer for the assassin on my lips, and God’s remembrance and consciousness of His living presence in the sanctuary of my heart…” Imagine, to possess that kind of devotion. (Gandhi died by an assassin’s bullet in 1948).

So my personal challenge is to hit the pause button more often — while photographing a sunrise, pulling weeds or stirring a pot of soup — to bless my actions, say a prayer for a friend or to simply give thanks for the cottonwood tree.

Thanks for being here.

More resources you might enjoy:

The Practice of the Presence of God and The Spiritual Maxims by Brother Lawrence (Amazon)

Gandhi the Man, by Ecknath Easwaran available through Blue Mountain Center of Meditation and Nilgiri Press.

You can find dozens of articles, tips, recipes and essays by Marion on her original PlanTea.com website.

To enjoy more of Marion’s photographs (or to order canvas prints, mouse pads–you name it–using Marion’s photographs), please visit www.MarionOwenPhotography.com.

Getting a Fresh Start: A gardener’s dozen of New Year’s resolutions

The end of the year is the time that most of us associate with turning over a new leaf, making plans, and evaluating. Taking it one step further is territory where resolutions and goals follow. Hmm, I’ve learned (often the hard way) that if you don’t have a goal to shoot for, you’re more likely to miss the target.

“Honey, if you don’t try,” Mom would tell me, “the answer is always no.” So here goes…

1) To spend as much time in the garden as I do reading, writing and talking about it.

2) To donate more vegetables to the local food bank.

3) To grow something new from seed. For instant inspiration, head over to Johnny’s Selected Seeds and Fedco Seeds.

4) To introduce at least one person to gardening. Getting your hands in the dirt is a good habit to develop in 2012.

5) To plant more flowers for bees and other beneficial insects.

6) To sniff more flowers with my nose and camera lens.

7) To try at least one natural pest control that I’ve never used.

8) To have more faith in plants. “Plants want to survive and live,” reminds Amy Pennington, author of Apartment Gardening. “They will go to great lengths to make sure their genetic strain lives on. They don’t need constant monitoring—they just need a helper.”

9) To take better care of my indoor plants. It’s the least I can do for those who brighten my interiorscape.

10) To learn the names of (and photograph) more local wildflowers. Mid-June to mid-July is the best time to get out and botanize around Kodiak island. Once you’ve hung around wildflowers for a while, your garden varieties seem, well, tame.

11) To set the timer when I head outside to do some weeding. It’s easy to get distracted with all that cries for attention.

12) To learn or improve on some garden techniques like pruning, composting, or grafting.

13) To keep the wonder of plants, flowers, and nature in my heart, realizing, as the saying goes: “I am not the doer; I am a mere instrument in His hand.”

With blessings, here’s to a glorious year!

More resources you might enjoy:

You can find dozens of articles, tips, recipes and essays by Marion on her original PlanTea.com website.

To enjoy more of Marion’s photographs (or to order canvas prints, mouse pads–you name it–using Marion’s photographs), please visit www.MarionOwenPhotography.com.