Jan

Best Way to Experience Yosemite?

by Eva Boynton on January 16, 2017

A view of Yosemite Valley, showing that to experience Yosemite fully all you need to do is open you eyes. (image © Sam Anaya)

Mountains of experience reach beyond the edge of the picture frame.
© Sam Anaya

Open Your Eyes, Take Home the Full Picture

Whenever I set foot in Yosemite, I feel the need to capture the grandeur of nature, extend the experience, and take it home with me. But, on this trip, I put my camera down and heeded a quote from Henry David Thoreau:

I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.

A deserted cabin in Yosemite Valley forest, illustrating that to open your eyes to experience Yosemite may be beyond the camera frame. (image © Sam Anaya)

Is it possible to capture the intangible essence of an experience in a photo?
Or, do you just need to be there?
© Sam Anaya

How did I reach that decision? I found myself surrounded by other travelers engulfed in recording their experiences, one eye always shut as they looked through the lens of a camera. I came to realize that opening both eyes, without anything in-between, was my best way to experience Yosemite.

Snap-Snap-Snap

Yosemite is THE spot to capture iconic nature images. Early photos of the park were made by mountain men who experienced nature and weathered difficult conditions without modern conveniences to be there.

On tour of the vista points with my friend Dana Swarth, I observed that, nowadays, visitors experience a place through their cameras. They snap photos as frenetically as the White House Press Corps.

Two photographers crouching on the ground, showing how people try to experience Yosemite. (image © Eva Boynton)

Diving for photos
© Eva Boynton

A woman takes a selfie at Yosemite Falls, illustrating how you can forget to open your eyes and experience Yosemite. (image © Eva Boynton)

“I’m here!”
© Eva Boynton

On one stop at Yosemite Falls, I encountered—

A couple adeptly using a selfie stick to photograph themselves from every perspective.
A dad lying on the ground to find the perfect angle of his wife and kids in front of the scene.
An older man, smiling all the while, making a 180° scan of the “entire” view with his iPad.

Photography can be like a sport in Yosemite—a rugged solo expedition to get selfies or a race to the finish line by competitive clickers. The winner? The person with the most photos.

Yosemite Falls, a view to appreciate when you open your eyes and experience Yosemite. (Image © Sam Anaya)

Nothing can quite capture the towering Yosemite Falls.
© Sam Anaya

It was seeing the crowds hold onto their cameras for dear life that made me skeptical of my need to record my experience in pictures. People came and went without taking a moment to look with their own eyes.

What’s the Focus?

Whether it is a face, hand, or a single toe, too many photographers intentionally place some body part into the landscape to say, “Hey, I was here!” I watched a woman reposition her iPhone up and down, left to right, in an attempt to capture herself in the frame. She was the subject; Yosemite was the background.

A thumb's up in front of a mountain in Yosemite Valley, a selfie attempts to show how to experience Yosemite. (image © Eva Boynton)

Click. I “like” this mountain.
© Eva Boynton

Some articles reinforce this focus on self. “How to take a great selfie in Yosemite“ gives tips that include dividing your time between sites so as not to spend all your “selfie juice” in one location or hiking to Mariposa Grove where trees dapple your selfie face with light.

A selfie of three people in front of Yosemite Falls, people trying to experience Yosemite but taking the idea "Open Your Eyes" in the wrong direction. (image © Sam Anaya)

We were certainly there! But what was behind us is a little blurry.
© Sam Anaya

Amid the unparalleled grandeur of Yosemite, it seemed to me that the focus belonged on the experience. Sure, I could ensure a photo album of selfies and prove that I was there, but I decided to adjust the focus, make Yosemite the subject, turn around and see the real deal.

Dropping the urgent need to archive and record myself brought focus back on the raw experience. Thoreau had made the same discovery years ago. He processed his findings on time spent living in the woods by writing his experiences in his own hand. He focused on deliberate experience and awareness, lifting himself out of a snapped frame and into the woods.

Tall trees with the sun behind at Yosemite Valley, showing that if you open your eyes without a camera you might see a little more. (image © Sam Anaya)

Take a moment to feel small in comparison to the colossal trees of Yosemite Valley.
© Sam Anaya

Too Big to Frame

During our tour of Yosemite, Dana took us on a hike off the main tourist track. We sat perched on a rock, overlooking a valley with mountains as the horizon and a carpet of autumn-colored trees below.

We took in the scene with all our senses, feeling the cool spray from a waterfall behind us while the sun warmed our faces and shoulders. I began at the waterfall and slowly turned my head to the left, seeing every inch of the full picture.

A drawing of Yosemite Valley in front of the drawn landscape, showing how a frame cannot open your eyes to really experience Yosemite. (image © Sam Anaya)

Yosemite without cropping
© Sam Anaya

I had followed my own advice, “Open your eyes,” and experienced Yosemite in full. Even so, I couldn’t resist recording some part of the experience. I took out my ink and paper and tried to etch the view into my memory.

As I lifted my finished drawing to the real thing, I noticed that the lines went off the paper. Oh, I see. The Yosemite experience was too big to frame. Living is already naturally panoramic.

Comment on this post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

Thank you, Sam, for your photos and, Dana, for the tour of Yosemite.

Check here for more information about Yosemite National Park.

Eva Boynton 7 Comments

Nature Discovery/USA

Nov

The Awe-Inspiring Monterey Bay Aquarium

by Eva Boynton on November 28, 2016

Silhouettes of people visiting the Monterey Bay Aquarium, showing the awe-inspiring experiences from two sides of the glass (image © Sam Anaya A.).

Travelers embark on a journey to another world.
© Sam Anaya A.

Worlds Connect Through a Sheet of Glass

The sea is as near as we come to another world.*

Imagine entering a forest of moons, alien ellipses all floating and pulsing with color in a dark blue environment. Their long arms extend, overlapping like tangled branches in a floating forest. Welcome to the world of jellies, one that seems light-years away from our own.

Sea nettle Jellies swimming at the Monterey Bay Aquarium, showing awe-inspiring experiences that connect travelers to different worlds (image © Sam Anaya A.).

Watch these jellies long enough, and you will be transported to another world.
© Sam Anaya A.

We often travel to discover a world different, distant, and new. We search for surprise, intrigue, and awe from foreign landscapes. But here at the Monterey Bay Aquarium, an awe-inspiring world is just on the opposite side of the glass.

Plunge Right In

In travel, jumping right in to a new place often reveals immediate and eye-opening surprises.

I start my travels in the Monterey Bay Aquarium that way. Walking past the entrance, underneath goliath sculptures of grey whales and orcas, I check my map. It says I can stay to the shoreline and work my way gradually to the deep canyon exhibit. But I decide to plunge right in, and head first to the giant tank that captures a piece of the open ocean.

Pacific sardines swimming in a ceiling tank at the Monterey Bay Aquarium, illustrating awe-inspiring worlds (image © Sam Anaya A.).

Silver lights swirl above, Pacific Sardines mimic a whirlpool.
© Sam Anaya A.

The environment in the aquarium changes and a deep blue quiets all travelers. Space opens up, and the tank’s wall of windows reveals another world. Though my feet are on terra firma, all senses tell me I’ve been submerged into the open ocean.

An open ocean exhibit with the silhouettes of visitors in front at the Monterey Bay Aquarium, showing what kind of awe-inspiring connections made to an underwater world (image © Sam Anaya A.).

Travelers pause to take in the destination.
© Sam Anaya A.

My legs and arms are dappled with light from above, just like the sea life I see in front of me. A Green Sea Turtle slowly glides to my left, and a school of Pacific Mackerel swims toward me as if they will cross the glass border and pass me by. Plunging right into the aquarium at these deep-water tanks struck me with awe and inspired me to keep traveling.

Explore the Depths

Traveling gives us an opportunity to explore the depths of life in another place. Looking past the glass barriers, I let the open ocean take me on a journey into a deep blue that resembles a world of zero gravity. I press my face against the glass to get a better look at a Cross Jelly.

A tiny jelly at the Monterey Bay Aquarium, showing the awe-inspiring moments from a world that resembles outer space (image © Sam Anaya A.).

In this world, aliens and UFOs are real.
© Sam Anaya A.

This little spaceship, lit by a bioluminescent band around its edge, floats through the stars. Its muscles contract and relax to pulse through the water, as if sending a Morse code to us humans on the other side of the glass.

A moon jelly at the Monterey Bay Aquarium, showing how awe-inspiring moments can be collected when visiting another world (image © Sam Anaya A.).

This moon rises and sets with a skirt of tentacles.
© Sam Anaya A.

I let go of my footing on Earth and let the ebb and flow of the ocean current carry me. To my right, Moon Jellies drift by like lunar dancers suspended in time. Suddenly they pulse their translucent bodies to change direction. I feel that same sense of awe that travelers feel when they immerse themselves in a new world.

Appreciate the Unknown

When we travel with an open perspective, a foreign environment can be beautiful, elegant and, extraordinary, allowing us to appreciate differences, make connections, and learn something new. My trip to the aquarium was just that.

A squid swimming in an exhibit at the Monterey Bay Aquarium, showing what kind of awe-inspiring moments that take place in a different kind of world (image © Sam Anaya A.).

Life underwater dances, glides, swirls, swims, and sways.
© Sam Anaya A.

When I met a Big Fin Reef Squid, it was hard to make a personal connection. These alien ballerinas, translucent dancers all, ripple their tutus and shoot air to propel them backwards.

While I try to make sense of these unbelievable creatures, a five-year-old boy approached the glass and said, “Aw, look at these little cuties!” This little traveler’s sense of wonder and curiosity surpassed barriers, seeing another species just as worthy as his own.

A pacific octopus changes colors in the Monterey Bay Aquarium, showing an awe-inspiring creature from another world (image © Sam Anaya A.).

Can you recognize the creature in the dark?
© Sam Anaya A.

I move on to the dark realm of the Giant Pacific Octopus. A master of disguise, this octopus transforms its color to match its surroundings.

I’m in awe. Right before my eyes, I see colors change from a silver grey to a dark maroon red. With the color change complete, the octopus lifts off the rocks and descends like a red parachute to the glass that separates our worlds. I put my hands to the hard surface, hoping to feel the suction cups that unfurl across the glass.

These two creatures move, look, and live so differently than me, but still I can find a connection and appreciate the ocean’s infinite variations.

Oh, I See the Travel Connections

Traveling is about making awe-inspiring connections with different worlds. The Monterey Bay Aquarium transports us as travelers to an underwater world while still breathing our own air. Though separated from that world by glass, travelers feel a part of it.

In front of the towering kelp forest, volunteer Christine clarifies for us another important connection: “Just remember, everything ends up at the beach.”

Just as new worlds affect us (and we are often never the same), the people and places we meet on our travels are equally affected by us. As travelers we must acknowledge that effect—the “glass” that separates our worlds is actually much thinner than we think.

Visitors in front of the kelp forest exhibit at the Monterey Bay Aquarium, showing an awe-inspiring interaction between worlds (image © Sam Anaya A.).

When worlds connect, neither is the same thereafter.
© Sam Anaya A.

*These apt words appear at the entrance of the Open Ocean exhibit at the Monterey Bay Aquarium, whom we thank for its constant efforts to connect our worlds. And thank you, Scott Stratton, for connecting me with the aquarium.

Comment on this post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

Eva Boynton 3 Comments

Art of Travel/Nature Discovery

Nov

Inherited Wanderlust

by Eva Boynton on November 8, 2016

Three kids walking through a valley in Switzerland, illustrating how wanderlust is passed down in traveling families (image © Peter Boynton).

A family legacy can begin anywhere. My brother and I inherited our travel inspiration hiking through Lauterbrunnen, Switzerland.
© Peter Boynton

Traveling Families—At Home in the World

We travel not to escape life, but for life not to escape us. —Anonymous

Do adventures need to end when a family begins? “Absolutely not!” say families who choose to spend months or even years connecting and learning as they travel the world.

What does it take to get the show on the road?

Share the wanderlust. Make travel a priority by putting value on the experience; if it’s important to you, then it’s important to show your kids.

Meet two traveling families, who share the kind of “Oh, I See” moments that can happen only on the road. They may inspire you to create your own family legacy of wanderlust.

The Bicycling Family

Chris, Julie, Leo, and Charlotte Conk began their family travels in the summer of 2011, cycling 1100 km (683.5 miles) around Lake St. Jean in Quebec. Leo was 6 (pedaling) and Charlotte 4 (pulled in a chariot).

But they did not stop there. In 2015, they jumped at their chance to travel for a year. They sold their home in Quebec, bought bicycles, and pedaled 7,400 km (4,598 miles) to Guatemala. Leo, now 11, rode his bike, and Charlotte, 8, who started in a tandem bicycle, changed to her own bike along the way.

Four family members on bicycles, showing how traveling families share their wanderlust. (image © Conk family)

“Can you believe a family of four sold their home, bought bicycles, put everything on their bikes and pedaled to Guatemala?” asks Chris Conk.

Julie and Chris were both travelers before they met in Chiapas, Mexico. They recognize the personal importance of travel and the growth that comes from it. Chris explains, “We took this trip because we wanted to give our kids some perspective.”

A traveling family cycles on a dirt road surrounded by tropical plants, showing parents who share their wanderlust with their kids. (image © Eva Boynton)

Julie adds, “It’s important to keep doing what makes you, you, as a mother. It’s important for me to share my deepest values with my kids and stay true to myself.”

Travel gave the Conk family a chance to imagine together . . . daily. For their children, it was education by astonishment, world schooling, living education. It was also the freedom to daydream.

A young girl, part of a traveling family, draws at a picnic table, as she experiences her family's legacy of wanderlust. (image © Conk Family)

The Conks built their relationships with each other and the world. They teamed up to choose routes, find campgrounds and lodgings, try new foods, watch out for each other, and play together.

A young girl and boy playing in the water underneath a palapa in Guatemala, members of a traveling family that shares its wanderlust. (image © Sam Anaya A.).

On the road, they participated in random dance parties, drew their surroundings, wrote about their experiences, created cross-cultural connections, collected bottle caps in Cuba, and spoke three different languages across 8 countries. Most important, this traveling family came away with more dreams and fewer fears.

My Traveling Family

In 1938, our family legacy began with my grandfather, who traveled 3,000 miles around Europe by bicycle.

When my parents met, they explored Europe together, wandering through the Swiss Alps, French backroads, and Greek caves. My mother traveled overland from Europe to India (through Turkey, Iran, Afghanistan, and Pakistan) in 1977. My father started a tour company that took Americans (and his family) overseas to hike and cycle throughout Europe.

Little did they know, their travels were forming a family value that my brother and I would inherit.

Kids playing on a playground in Switzerland, showing how traveling families pass down inherited wanderlust (image © Peter Boynton).

My first memories of travel are of hiking and sliding in Lauterbrunnen, Switzerland, looking up at the surrounding snow-capped mountains. I remember cycling on roads with fields of lavender on each side in Provence, France. I complained about cycle travel then, though ironically it has turned into a life pursuit and my favorite mode of transportation and travel.

My brother and I grew up among the kindness of strangers. My mother explains being wonderfully surprised at how strangers “were so welcoming and interested when we traveled with little kids.”

A man carrying his son in France, showing the inherited wanderlust passed down in traveling families (image © Normi Burke).

On one occasion, my parents were traveling with my brother as a baby. They entered a store to spend the last of their travel money. Without hesitation, the owners of the store, an Italian couple, began kissing my brother’s pudgy arms and legs. They refused money from my parents and sent them away with free snacks and souvenirs.

My brother and I inherited wanderlust at an early age from seeing the beauty of the world and being surrounded by different cultures and languages. It is a family legacy that I have continued today and that my brother intends to share with his children.

Oh, I See the Family Values

Traveling families—like the Conks and my own—see travel as a critical family value. As my mother explains, “It changed me to travel. I became much more open-minded and aware of other people. Why wouldn’t I want that for my children?”

Through our family travels, I developed a comfort with change, the kind that comes from sleeping in a different bed every night. And I hold close the legacies of my parents—the wanderlust, the open-mindedness, and that comfortable feeling of being at home in the world.

Leo and Charlotte will likely know these legacies, too. And that’s a priceless inheritance.

Two silhouettes of people jumping in the Alps of Switzerland, showing how traveling families take advantage of their inherited wanderlust (image © Eva Boynton)

Follow the adventures of Bicycling Family.

Want the secret to how families make travel happen? Check out 14 Nomadic Families. See more about the Conk’s trip in this video.