I really enjoy extended photo excursions.  Weekend classes or trips can be fun.  Even better are photographic tours or workshops that can last a week or more.  I find that the immersion in the craft of photography brings out a sense of play and innovation that makes photography more than just clicking a shutter to take a picture.  Instead, as my parents like to say, you make a photograph.
 

One experience that helped drive this feeling home to me occurred on my first workshop in France, which I went on with my parents back in October of 2000.
 

One day we stopped by a local vineyard/winery to look around, do some shopping and take some pictures.  I was standing near my father as he set up a shot.  When he was happy with what he had, he called me over to show the view.  I noticed two things...First, it was an interesting shot.  Second, I would do it differently.  So, when he was done, I borrowed his tripod and set my camera on it.  Exactly the same place.  Exactly the same height.  Just a slightly different composition.
 

Here's the shot I took.  I wish I had a copy of his as well, to show the differences.  Because they are different.  And that's one of the great things about photography:  Everyone sees differently.  Everyone is attracted to different things or notices different details or has a different idea of how to capture a scene.
 

Chateau La CanorgueVineyard in Provence, France.
 

One final note while on this subject.  My parents would travel with two cameras since they each wanted to make their own images.  But, sometimes they'd go out with just one to save space or weight.  It didn't matter.  They could still tell who took which picture, days or weeks later.

Here's a story I don't think I've told here before (if I have, sorry).  [note: as I was adding the image I found a shorter version captioning the picture]
 

Back in the spring of 2007, I was back in NY for Passover.  Staying with my parents in the house I grew up in.  We had a really large living/dining room (big enough to seat 30 people for Thanksgiving).  Windows along the wall, with plants in 3 or 5 macrame hangers.  The centerpiece on the dining room table was a collection of carved animals that my parents had accumulated over the years.
 

So, we were sitting at the dining room table one afternoon, chatting about something or other when I noticed something kinda fun and bizarre.  It wasn't just that the sun shining through the window was casting shadows of the animals on the wall.  It was also that the light through the hanging plants was giving the shadows a leafy, jungly atmosphere.  And, there was a slight breeze blowing the plants, so there was movement to the shadows.
 

After pointing this out to everyone, I ran up to my room to grab my camera, sprinted back down and started taking some pictures.  Here's my favorite of those.  Welcome to Africa in Suburbia.
 

Shadowplay
 

Here's a story from a month ago, give or take a bit.
 

I was walking around Lone Lake without a camera (which is almost always a mistake).  I came across a nice couple who were looking at some trees.  When I asked why, they quietly pointed to a barred owl, which soon flew away.  They mentioned that they had seen the same one in that same tree the past several days, so I resolved to come back with my camera.
 

The next day, or maybe it was the one after that, I went back and, sure enough, there was an owl sitting in the same tree.  It was looking away from me, but I started taking some pictures anyway.  This must have gotten its attention, since it lazily looked around to see what was causing the very quiet clicking sound (that being the shutter).
 

Barred Owl

So, I continue shooting and shortly someone else comes along the path.  I quietly motion towards the owl and point.  They then point out that they hadn't noticed that one, but instead had seen the one much higher in the tree.  So, I look up and, sure enough, there's a second barred owl, staring down at me/us.  So I switch subjects and start getting some shots of the second one.
 

Barred Owl I learned a valuable lesson that day...don't miss seeing the owl for the owl.