Park Five: Los Encinos SHP

Well, I'm back from a rather long trip. 5 days, 13 parks, enough hiking to keep my legs aching for days to come, 1,600 miles of driving and something like 31 hours behind the wheel. My meals were comprised of fast food eaten while on long stretches of freeway. Can I just say that I'm beat? Well I'm going to say it anyway.

Expect fairly regular updates from here on out, but no more than two posts a day. Aside from the work that needs to be done with this project, i.e. processing photos, uploading them, writing the blog posts, planning out future trips and so forth; there's also a lot of Melody and David Photography work that needs to be done as well. For instance, we have a wedding this weekend that I need to prep for.

I've been debating whether or not to show my journey in chronological order. On the one hand it makes complete sense, on the other . . . I don't wanna. There are two big reasons why I don't want to. First, I started off the journey at McGrath State Beach. That's right, another beach. Not only was it another beach, but it was another gray beach because of the bank of fog that rolled in just in time to ruin a sunset and hung out long enough to ruin a sunrise as well. While Moss Landing and Zmudowski fit together nicely, McGrath deserves to stand on its own. So if I'm going to skip the first one, I might as well throw everything out of sequence.

My second reason is Lil. I'll talk more about her at the end of the post. Just think of the missed shot at Zmudowski. Before we get to that let's talk about what led up to it.   

Los Encinos State Historic Park 

Los Encinos is very close to L.A. It was my third stop for the day, coming right on the heels of having a rock thrown at me at Santa Susana, wasting over an hour trying to find a place that sold a cigarette outlet splitter, and getting lost in a ridiculously large Target inside a ridiculously large mall. Frankly, I was not in the best of moods and from what I'd seen on the State Parks site, I wasn't expecting much from Los Encinos.

I was wrong. 

If I remember correctly, Los Encinos actually borders a Smart & Final. It's surrounded by homes and busyness. You'd probably miss it while driving by if you weren't paying attention. 

The 1994 Northridge earthquake did a lot of damage to the old adobe main house, but with the destruction came the discovery of beautiful marble hidden behind layers of plaster.

What I assume are measurements or calculations for the restoration work of the marble. 

I have a feeling that children being barred from history is going to be a running theme. 

I've discovered that I have a fascination for eaves and roof-lines. Something about the way
light falls on them  and wraps around them. 

This will become all the more meaningful very shortly. 

Didn't quite catch the birds as I'd hoped, but it still made for a nice frame. 

The Shot That Didn't Get Away

When I pulled up, a woman in a sun hat was heading out. She let me know that I'd just missed the tour and that she wished she could take me on one but that she had to attend to something else. Before leaving she got a ranger out to show me the main building while she was gone. It was clear that she wanted to be sure that I learned the history of the Los Encinos Rancho and that it bothered her that she was not going to be able to do it. 

After I'd wandered around the park for a while and did most of my shooting, I found that Lil, the kind lady that got the ranger out for me, was back and talking to the family she'd taken on the tour before I got there. Hers is an infectious personality that calls to a photographer's lens so I made my way over to her. 

Come August 7th (if I remember right) she'll have volunteered at the park for 40 years. She started by filling bags with popcorn for people to feed to the ducks and later became a tour guide. Back then it was her and one grounds keeper. Now she has rangers helping to watch over things, a grounds keeper, and an interpreter. Things aren't quite as simple as they used to be. 

Eventually she asked what my photos were for. That started a whole new conversation about the park. You see, the more people I meet on this little journey, the more people I find that have no idea about the park closures. Indeed, even that family had no idea. It was their first time at the park, a place they'd driven by countless times before and on this day decided to find out what that place was next to the Smart & Final. That's a big part of why we're doing this, to raise awareness. You can't care about a thing until you know it exists. 

While Lil spoke I looked at the way the light fell on her face. A harsh line of shadow caused by her hat blocking out the four o'clock sun, followed by little specks of light that cut through the gaps in the straw of her hat. The light simply was not working for me, shade or not. I wanted to ask to reposition her, but where? The conversation came to an end and I headed off to take a few more pictures around the back of the kitchen building. All the while I kept telling myself, "You have to make a portrait of Lil." I would be doing people a disservice and not truly honoring the park if I passed her by. 

The trouble was, I didn't know how to photograph her. I'm a portrait photographer, I'm used to spending and hour or more with someone, wandering around different locations trying different poses, lighting scenarios, the works. This shot was different, it was one opportunity to capture the essence of a person who was integral to my memory of the park. No do-overs, no retakes. You blow it and that's it.  

I wandered around some more, wracking my brain, then it occurred to me. In her stories, Lil mentioned that for her 83rd birthday the park asked her what she wanted. "New park benches," was her reply, benches that she's very proud of. She has no idea what they're made out of, but knows that it took four men to lift one of them. Those benches aren't going anywhere. 

That's when the shot came together in my mind. Lil at one of her benches under the shade of an old tree that would block out the harsh sun. The old adobe building that she loves so much off in the background. My light set up where the sun should be, angled to slip in under the brim of her hat. I took a test shot with no one there to make sure I could get the building and the bench all in the same frame, then rushed off to the ranger's office to find her. I had 15 minutes before the park closed. 

She appeared flattered when I asked and after the ranger on duty questioned me on the end use of the photograph (you can't shoot work that is intended for sale on state land without a permit) and gave the thumbs up, Lil agreed. I told her to wait in the air conditioned office while I set up the light and that I'd come back and grab her when it was ready. "Well, you don't need to grab me, you can just tell me that you're ready," she said with a laugh. 

Nothing was set up. In order to get all my gear and camping equipment into the car, I had to break down everything. The softbox, the lights, triggers, everything. I scrambled to get things together as fast as I could. About five minutes later, just as I was snapping a few test shots to check my lighting ratios, Lil and the ranger came out of the office looking confused and abandoned, as though I'd asked as a cruel joke and then left. Once she spotted me, I waved her on over. 

Lil at one of  her park benches.

Lil is just as much a part of this park as anything else. For anyone that visits the park their memories are filled not only with the history, sights, sounds, and textures of the park, but also with Lil, her sparkling eyes, beaming smile, and jovial spirit. 

Thank you, Lil, for all that you do.