I’m not here.

The amount of time spent volunteering has been one of the great changes in our lives since moving. For me, it’s usually either maintaining the forest trails or helping with farm work on behalf of the Trust for Working Landscapes.

For the TWL I’ve recently participated in a couple of different parties:

I enjoy being outside, giving back to the community and definitely love the food. When my wife wants work done around the yard she refers to it as a “work party” to encourage my participation.

Now I’m involved at a level I’ve never before experienced — last night I was elected a voting member of the TWL Board. I’m looking forward to more involvement in this organization as I really value its principles. I’m a firm believer in sustainable agriculture, fear the industrial food supply which feeds most of the US and want to promote local food & farming efforts.

Some reading if you’re interested:

• Reclaiming the Commons
• Omnivore’s Dilemma
• The Botany of Desire
• Fast Food Nation
• The Jungle

If you know of others please comment.

Eat locally, eat well.

My silence of late is attributable to having spent the better part of last week at eBay attending the Next-Generation Distributed Systems Summit. I was fortunate, in time and invitation, to attend, meet some really amazing technologists and learn a Tremendous amount (thanks Little Bear). I’m still consolidating my final notes and thoughts on the Summit so expect another post soon.

In the interim, enjoy some sunset photos from my travels with Pierre.

From time to time I’m reminded not everyone is up to speed on the travel-with-animals story: my daughter sends an animal along with me anytime I venture out on the “big boat” — I photograph our adventures and share the love.

Thank you eBay, and in particular Randy, for hosting such an outstanding event.

Pierre poses with Mt Rainier in the background.

Pierre basking in the setting sun.

I found a bit of time to stop by one of our country’s more beautiful and influential universities: Stanford.

I love being out on the boat at sunset — I think it beats sunrise.

Bainbridge Island loves Halloween.

Bainbridge Gardens’ annual Pumpkin Walk attracted its usual horde of revelers enjoying the pumpkins lit throughout the woods.

A couple of weekends ago we picked our own pumpkins at the Suyematsu Farms — an event quickly becoming one of our family’s favorite holiday traditions. I spend a lot of time on the farm volunteering in part to take in the views — grapes, trees, vegetables, mountains.

My daughter loved the Pumpkin Walk until her sighting of Gingerbread Boy — which promptly ended our Pumpkin Walk 2008, racing, as instructed, back to the safety of our car.

When it rains, it pours — literally and figuratively. I left the house today in a pretty steady rain, managed to get about a mile from home and then stopped. My rear tire, fine on Friday and over the weekend, went flat! After a quick cyclocross run home, Pig and I made the next boat. Ugh.

Pig and I never made it out of the office today, sorry Pig, you get a raincheck.

Walking from the office to the ferry I saw two fire trucks, an ambulance and two squad cars all with their lights and sirens raging by a popular hangout for the homeless. With poles out and everyone hanging over the side looking down into the water it was pretty clear what had transpired. Shortly after I took the photo of Pig with the fire boat, the second boat arrived and confirmed what I suspected.

That’s a huge cargo tanker in the distance, trust me, it’s huger in person, the Sound is big.

The late boat in meant the late boat home — my first sunset as a full-time commuter.

In need of some sun, sky and water, we traveled to one of our favorite places off Island — Foulweather Bluff Preserve.

The grove of Madrones hanging over the bluff are losing their summer green.

The highlight for us is the beach, 3800 feet of prime digging-a-hole-with-a-stick public access. We’ve been twice, neither time did the weather allude to the naming, but an ID-wearing member of The Nature Conservancy told us to check back in the winter for storms and migrating birds.

If it’s not the beach you want, the marsh offers another naturalizing opportunity. Our daughter far prefers the water to the marsh so we’ve not explored it much — perhaps this winter.

A rusty hook on the old log — I found it interesting.