Vivid Rainbow

SESIG in the morning with good turnout. Ginger's to look at trees she's giving away—downsizing, many plants need homes, adds urgency to garden planning. Dizzy Hen breakfast on way to Safeway—delicious, reminded me of grandmother's cooking. Safeway for flu and COVID vaccines. Pizza and beer with Brian and Tim at American Dream. Home for nap. Very rainy and stormy day. Photo work—repository reorganization and print portfolio. On the way to Suds, most vivid rainbow seen in years. Met Michael, Cathy, and Tim at Suds. Groceries from Winco on way home. Watched Brazil. Feeling the vaccine hit this morning—not very functional.

Storms and Color

October 25, 2025

SESIG this morning with good turnout. The regular Friday gathering—SESIG meets Tuesday and Friday mornings with an overlapping set of regulars. Discussion touched on medical appointment difficulties—700 referrals per week overwhelming the system. Will Allen's new company kaspix, driving AI-like behavior into analog circuits as close to the edge of sensing as possible—1930s AI using analog rather than digital approaches, looking for clear demonstrable applications. SpaceX launching 10,000 pieces of space junk, though Starlink satellites are designed to last five years then drop into atmosphere and burn up. Mining vehicles producing 6% of world's CO2 emissions, more than you'd think. Cows and rice paddies as primary methane producers. Mike's brother at Zayo creating Halo-like private networks. Discussion of interacting with ChatGPT as just another team member, though interactions can be flakey. Mushroom hunting season. Jim's spherical photography techniques—should ask him to present at a SESIG or Philomath Salon. The usual mix of technical discussions, current events, personal updates, random tangents that somehow connect.

After SESIG, went to Ginger's to look at trees she wants to give away. She's planning on downsizing in the near future and has many plants that need new homes. Worth checking what's available—free trees and plants are worth the time to evaluate, and helping someone transition while getting something useful yourself is a good exchange. It adds some urgency to creating a plan for my garden—need to know what space is available and what makes sense before committing to taking plants.

Stopped by the Dizzy Hen for breakfast on the way to Safeway. It was delicious and reminded me of food my grandmother used to make. Those unexpected connections to childhood—a meal that brings back memories through taste and texture, comfort food that actually comforts.

Went to Safeway to get flu and COVID vaccines. The annual ritual of preventive medicine, accepting a day or two of feeling rough to avoid potentially worse outcomes. Getting both at once means one visit, one recovery period, even if it makes the reaction stronger.

Met Brian and Tim at American Dream for pizza and beer. Good food, good company, the kind of midday social time that breaks up the week. These regular meetups with friends matter—not dramatic or profound, just consistent presence and conversation.

Came home and took a nap. The vaccines were already starting to hit, that familiar fatigue that says your immune system is busy. Sometimes the best response is just to sleep and let your body do its work.

Very rainy and stormy day. The kind of weather that makes you glad to be inside, that turns everything gray and wet and loud. Pacific Northwest autumn in full effect—the season when rain stops being occasional and becomes the default state.

Worked on photos between other activities. The ongoing project involves a blend of shuffling photos around to create a more scalable and sustainable repository. While files are copying, I'm working on the print portfolio. Liking the outcome—seeing the physical book come together is satisfying. Also setup another shoot with Floofie on Friday before going out to hang with the kids. The work continues accumulating: technical infrastructure improvements, creative output in portfolio form, future shoots scheduled.

The Rainbow

On the way to Suds, saw the most vivid rainbow I've seen in years. One of those moments where the storm breaks just right, light hits water droplets at the perfect angle, and suddenly there's this arc of intense color spanning the sky. Actually pulled over to take a picture—not sure my cell phone did it justice, but it enabled me to share what I was seeing. You stop whatever you're doing and just look. The contrast between the dark storm clouds and the brilliant spectrum—it's the kind of natural phenomenon that doesn't need explanation or interpretation, just appreciation for the physics and beauty of light refracting through water.

Met Michael, Cathy, and Tim at Suds in the evening. More friends, more conversation, another gathering in a week that's structured around regular social touchpoints. These aren't elaborate events—just meeting at familiar places, talking, being present with people you care about.

Stopped at Winco for groceries on the way home. Tried to find some snacks that aren't completely bad for me—the eternal challenge of balancing what tastes good with what's reasonably healthy. While waiting to checkout, dropped a jar of pickles. They were prompt with the cleanup, which I appreciated. Wish they hadn't eliminated baskets in the store—there's a range of purchases between one or two items and purchases that require a giant cart. Without the baskets they don't really accommodate this middle ground, which makes shopping more awkward than it needs to be.

Came home and watched Brazil. Terry Gilliam's dystopian bureaucratic nightmare, darkly comic and deeply unsettling. The film about systems that crush individuals, paperwork that matters more than people, the absurdity of power structures that serve no purpose beyond perpetuating themselves. Not light entertainment, but good cinema—the kind that makes you think while making you uncomfortable.

Went to bed, and now this morning I'm really feeling the hit from the vaccines. Not very functional—that whole-body fatigue, mild ache, fuzzy thinking that comes with immune response. It'll pass in a day or two, but right now functioning at reduced capacity is the reality. Worth it to avoid actual flu or COVID, but still unpleasant in the moment.

The day had good elements: friends at multiple points, productive photo work, that spectacular rainbow cutting through the storm. The vaccine reaction was predictable and manageable. The rainy weather was atmospheric if not comfortable. The evening's film was thought-provoking even if dark.

Sometimes days are just a collection of moments—some planned, some spontaneous, some striking like that rainbow, some merely functional like getting vaccines. Nothing profound happened, but that's most days. Good conversations with friends, useful tasks completed, natural beauty noticed, immune system getting reinforcement, cinema that makes you think. The accumulation of ordinary moments that constitute a life being lived.

The rainbow stood out though—that intensity of color against dark clouds, the perfect conditions creating something remarkable. You can't predict when those moments will happen, can only pay attention when they do. The storm made the rainbow possible; the contrast made it vivid. Sometimes the difficult conditions create the circumstances for beauty.