This day in Russian Ridge had the sky of summer, but the mood of spring. As the rains of winter give way to sunny skies, the moist soil of the Santa Cruz Mountains is poised for a takeover. The tall dry grass is finally pushed out by this year's new flock. For a few fleeting months, these gentle hillsides are a lush wonderland. But in no time at all, this grass too will grow tall and brown. The cyclicality of these mountains is beautiful and mesmerizing, even on a year-long timescale. I wish I could say that each season has it's perks. In reality, they do, but I quickly tire of summer, and always eagerly await the season of green.

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I love how long exposures is how they let us witness natural phenomena which occur on time and length scales that are difficult for us to observe. Take this image from the Santa Cruz Mountains of California. Fog was creeping into a quiet valley in Russian Ridge Open Space. It just looked like fog to my naked eye, but the fading light of twilight required a long exposure. The extended exposure ended up revealing a more interesting interplay between land and air. The hills would disturb the air, pushing it upwards and causing additional fog to condense. The pattern continued until the air got blown over flatter ground, and had time to diffuse outward undisturbed, creating a uniform blanket. The phenomenon reminded me of the way mist is pulled off the tips of ocean waves by strong winds. I couldn't see this connection in real time, but it was evident in the longer exposure.

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Borel Hill is a small peak in Russian Ridge Open Space, and the highest (named) point in San Mateo County. It's not much itself, but it offers great views in every direction. To the east is the San Francisco Bay and the Diablo Range beyond. But to the west, that's the view that steals my heart. The Santa Cruz Mountains fade into the ocean, in a way that seems overly painterly. Some hills are topped with lovely chaparral that lights up gold in the sunset, while others are covered with remote redwood forests that provide shadowy silhouettes. And the sunset itself was quite a sight for my eyes, too. They are often inverted compared to what I'm used to. Instead of lighting up the clouds from below, the sun lights them up from above!

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Whittemore Gulch Trail is one of the more difficult hikes in Purisima Creek Redwoods. But also one of the most rewarding. There are steep ascents, but they repay you with stunning vistas over redwood forests, the Santa Cruz Mountains, and the Pacific Ocean. This view would indeed include the ocean on a fogless day, but those are rare in summer. Even though the fog is common, I still hope for it when hiking in this area, because it gives the photographs that distinctly California feel. And towards dusk, when it creeps further inland, I love how the gold sea of fog turns mountains into islands.

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In this simple scene from Russian Ridge, California, the drama was all in my mind. I used to wonder how the Pacific, which means calm, got it's name. As someone who moved from Florida to San Francisco, it's hard to imagine why anyone considers this ocean calm. I've since learned that the Pacific Ocean got its name when Ferdinand Magellan passed through the Straits of Magellan in South America, where the Pacific is calmer than the Atlantic. But before that, I had a different hypothesis. Unlike the Atlantic in Florida, most of my chances to glimpse the Pacific come from mountaintops. From up here, you can't make out the swells and breakers, the sea looks as tranquil as an alpine lake. I used to wonder if the Pacific Ocean got its name when early land-based explorers ascended these coastal mountains and got their first glimpse of the ocean, from up high. It's the only place where I can see the Pacific as "calm."

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Some photographs are among my most cherished not because they are my best, but because they remind me of the most magical moments of my life. There's a handful of memories that I carry with me everywhere I go, and this is one of them. They usually have to do with a sudden and unexpected discovery. And I must admit, it's never because I actually discovered something unknown, but rather that I simply wasn't fully prepared. But that doesn't change the moment of rapture when it happens. One such moment was when I was hiking the Quirang in Scotland, without any prior research, and stumbled upon the Old Man of Storr. Or the first time I crossed over of the Santa Cruz Mountains at sunset into a dense fog stuck on the western slopes. The experience pictured here is also on the short-list. We were hiking up to St John's Fortress in Kotor, Montenegro. It was already extraordinarily beautiful and rewarding. Out of the corner of our eye, we saw a barely noticeable hole in one of the fortress walls. We popped through, and it was like entering another dimension. The lush mountain meadows were a stark contrast to the dry Mediterranean landscape on the other side of the wall. And the ancient church (or at least old) seemed forgotten to time. It felt like we were the first to find it in ages, which made the moment even more powerful. Almost like finding the gate to Narnia. Of course, we ended up meeting plenty of other tourists who found it too. But that couldn't take away the moment - it is mine forever. I like to think this peaceful sanctuary has given the same brilliant moment to many others over several centuries.

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This view from Skyline Ridge puts things in perspective. San Jose, California (the heart of Silicon Valley) in the foreground shrinks when compared to the Diablo Range beyond. The whole landscape was lit up by a beautiful sunset glow, but I was especially drawn to the cloud line dividing the city and the mountain peaks above. I was descending from taking photographs in the Santa Cruz Mountains, which form the western boundary of the valley. While driving through fog, I rounded a bend and was suddenly under the fog, and presented with this view. I loved looking at the fog line on the Diablo Range, because it precisely mimicked where I was. It was sort of like looking in a mirror. It also seemed somewhat metaphorical, with the fog separating two worlds. Above the fog, time slows and worries melt away. In the world below, however, time keeps moving faster and faster, taking you with it.

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Seen here is the same group of trees in many other of my photographs from Russian Ridge Open Space. I enjoy photographing these same trees at various times of the year, because the landscapes in Northern California can change so drastically from season to season. In this particular scene, the California spring landscape explodes into color following a particularly rainy winter. I think it's my favorite time of year in this place. The valley floor is buzzing with renewed life. The buckeye trees which dot the hillside don't want to miss out either. While not yet in bloom, they rush to match the landscape in coordinated lush green hues.

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Isle of Skye is one of the most magical places I've ever been. The landscapes of spring in the Scottish Highlands are among the most beautiful I have ever seen, anywhere on earth. The greens of springtime give it an absolutely fantastical character, and the weather gets rambunctious too. On one single day, actually one single hike, I experienced sunshine, fog, rain, snow, and sleet. This day was a little bit gentler... but only a little. There are many beautiful and unforgettable hikes on Isle of Skye, but this photograph is from a simple roadside pull-off. I've never been anywhere where it's more necessary to have a camera with you at all times... the photographic opportunities are literally everywhere! And on top of that, Skye has the friendliest people I've ever met. I will definitely return to Isle of Skye... it stole my heart and has not given it back!

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