About 1.5 million of us across the Baltimore region have already snapped at least a dozen pictures of this historic snowstorm. The trouble is, most of us are also a little frustrated about the quality of the pictures we’re taking, especially if they have people or objects in them.

Chances are, your camera allows you to adjust the settings to get a better shot.

As a default, most digital point and shoots (and even some of the digital SLRs) are programmed to underexpose your pictures. That means that the shutter is clicking a little faster than it should be, and less light is getting in to create your image. As a result, your pictures are slightly darker, and there is less definition in areas with shadows (including details on individuals). This is not usually an issue, as most pictures have a balanced variation of light contributing to the overall picture.

The problem with shooting pictures in the snow is that most of the light coming into the camera is bright white from the snow, and it tells your camera’s shutter speed to go even faster, letting even less light in for a balanced picture.

This can be easily corrected by manually changing the exposure settings. First, two examples:

The picture below was shot without any exposure compensation. The shutter speed was 1/2000 of a second.

A little dark, but overall not a bad picture.

When we increase the exposure time by one full stop (1/1000 of a second), the shutter is open for twice the time, allowing more of the details in Madelyn’s face to appear.

There are three easy ways to do this manually.

First, most cameras will tell you what the shutter speed is going to be when you are in auto mode and you depress the shutter release button halfway. This information may be displayed through the viewfinder when you look through the eyepiece, or it may appear on the back of your camera on the LCD panel. Whatever that reading is for the shutter speed (let’s say it’s 1/500), switch to manual mode and increase its length by one step (change it to 1/250) and take the picture.

The second way to change this setting is if your camera has an Exposure Compensation (EC) mode. Most digital SLRs allow you to adjust your exposure in 1/3 increments. Simply find the setting on your camera and increase by as many increments as you wish for a better exposure. Most of these cameras also allow you to “bracket” your photos by taking 3, 5, 7, or even 9 photos in succession, each at a different increment (some cameras also allow you to change your increments from 1/3 of a step to a full step). You can then look at the different exposures and determine which might be best for that specific photo. Generally, though, if you are taking pictures of the snow, it’s best to increase your shutter exposure time by at least 1/2 step.

The third way is to get close to the subject you want to shoot and depress the shutter release button halfway to get an exposure reading. Then, when you recompose the shot, make sure you change your shutter setting to that original reading. That way, the exposure will be correct for the subject, while the rest of the picture will be slightly overexposed.

What makes all of this tricky is that the terminology seems contradicting. We increase our shutter exposure time, but the actual number seems as if it decreases (1/500 to 1/250). Underexposed means that some parts of the photo are too dark, while overexposed means that some are too light. Also, adding a full step means that you are slowing down the shutter.  It’s all very confusing.

The bottom line is this: In snow pictures with subjects, slow your shutter speed down. Take a few practice shots at different settings and see which ones you like. It just takes a moment to adjust your settings to get a better picture, and it opens up endless possibilities as you begin to experiment with the settings, making the pictures unique and artistic!

It’s 8:23 p.m., and I’ve just returned from taking some friends to their parents’ home in Lutherville. Their power has been out since 5 this morning, and the temperature was hovering around 50 degrees before I picked them up. BGE has no idea when their power will return. They couldn’t take the chance–not with two kids and a dog. Now, the family is safe and warm. Thank goodness for the Jeep, which navigated brilliantly through both trips.

The condition of the roads is grossly inconsistent, sometimes between stretches of just a few hundred feet. It makes little sense to me how two-lane roads are in better shape than major thoroughfares. They are, though, and some even have dry pavement. The worst road is, ironically enough, my own. Every other road I was on has been plowed at least once.

Not that this makes me think we’ll have school on Monday, or even Tuesday, for that matter. I noticed that some of the side streets that I passed were untouched–not even a pedestrian had strolled along the street; the space between the quiet houses seemed more like a common pasture, smoothed with the expertise of a master pastry chef putting the final touches on a classy, yet simple sheet cake.

Cars parked along roads are buried, and the snow that’s been plowed from the streets has been pushed against (and often over) the cars, making them virtually invisible. It will be days before these cars are unburied and able to move along the streets.

Even Governor O’Malley stated this evening that motorists should stay off the roads “for the next few days.” With temperatures dipping to 10-15 degrees each of the next few nights, I wonder how successful snow plows will be in shaving the ice off the side streets before our next storm hits on Tuesday and into Wednesday. A wintry mix is predicted Tuesday, with all snow anticipated for the evening and into Wednesday with driving winds.

With this additional mid-week storm, It’s my belief that we’ll be out of school until next Tuesday, and that’s assuming that yet another storm predicted for next weekend doesn’t materialize. If if does, though, we could be looking at an additional 2-3 days off of school, racking up a total of 12-13 days off of school.

The last thing any school system wants is a second winter break. The only silver lining is that, as long as the state of emergency exists across Maryland, school systems have the right to apply for a waiver and have those missed days excused from the required 180 days of classroom instruction.

We’ll see what happens. For now, let’s keep helping our neighbors in our community. Check in on those who might need prescription refills, or who might just need a call to let them know someone’s concerned about them.

Until tomorow: stay safe…and warm!

10:13 a.m. Good morning.

This is the view of our front yard/street at 8:30 a.m. (This would be a great I-Spy picture: can you find a car by a tree?). We’ve already measured 24+ inches of heavy, heavy snow, and it’s not supposed to end for another 8 hours. The sustained winds are blowing at 20-35 miles per hour. This storm is on track to be the worst snowstorm in Baltimore’s history. The greatest unofficial storm happened in January 1772, when George Washington and Thomas Jefferson recorded in their journals, separately, that 36 inches of snow fell in both Baltimore and Washington.

We are fortunate to still have our power. Between 6:30 and 7:00 a.m., we lost power on three separate, brief occasions. What made it flicker, and how it came back on, we do not know. No need to question the gift of electricity, though. Our friends have been without power since 3 a.m., and they were without power for nearly 24 hours during the last storm. They are just one family comprising the ever-growing statistic of 126,000 power outages in the Baltimore region. It is possible that, in the next 24 hours, that number will double, if not triple. Temperatures are in the mid-20s and will continue to fall to 14 degrees or lower in the evening. Sustained winds of 15-24 miles per hour will create a wind-chill index near zero degrees.

We’ll head out in about an hour and begin the long and arduous process of digging out. I don’t foresee taking the Jeep for a ride before 4 p.m., if it will even be possible then.

I will post pictures of the dig-out, and if we’re fortunate to get the Jeep on the road before sunset, I’ll do my best to get photos of how the rest of Baltimore looks.

Until then, we are grateful for the comfort and safety of our home, and our thoughts and prayers to those around us who are doing their best to stay warm without electricity. Feel free to post updates from your area in the comments section of this post.

Owen, a student who attends the high school where I teach, shared this video on his Facebook group Small Acts of Kindness (SAK), which he started to give people a chance to share the little things that make the lives of others a bit better. He certainly did just that in sharing this video with me.

The video is about a man named Nick who has no arms or legs, and he has an amazing outlook on life that he shares with others through motivational workshops. Please take the five minutes or so to watch it. Let Nick share his story with you.

I’m always humbled by these stories and encouraged to appreciate my life in ways I never imagined. Nick reminds me that we must never give up, never quit, never stop trying to accomplish whatever goal we might have established. I think that’s what is so refreshing about the new year. If we’re able to give ourselves second chances and renewed opportunities just because the calendar year changed, why can’t we do that at any other time during the year?

I suggest we can, simply by remembering Nick and all that he teaches us in this brief video.

Enjoy this day, and Never Give Up. There’s always a reason to give the goal another try so that you may “finish strong.” as Nick puts it.

Here we are, all at the starting line together. Hand in hand, promise within promise, we look forward to the possibilities that await us in this new year. We’ve all got a few things going for us, so let’s look at those quickly:

1. We’re starting with a fresh slate. Forgive yourself of the shortfalls of 2009 and begin anew. Don’t let the mistakes made in the last 12 months follow you into 2010. Instead, make the commitment to embrace all the new year has to offer, and go for it.
2. Don’t make it harder than it has to be. Stay grounded in the simple things: Love, Companionship, Charity, and Truth. Everything else will fall into place if you begin with these four.
3. Believe in the You that you are right now. Don’t talk about how great it’s going to be in 4, 6, or 10 months. Talk about how great you’ve got it right now, and savor the glory of the You Moment right now. I don’t care if you are on a bus or standing in some checkout line. Love thyself. Always.
4. Enjoy the passage of time. Every moment of it. Do not waste a single flutter of a butterfly’s wings or the final seconds of sun as it sets in the west.

The Secret O’ Life: Love, Companionship, Charity, Trust. <3

I wish nothing but the absolute best for each of you in 2010!

(all photos taken with my Blackberry Curve this morning)

One of the things I’ve always enjoyed doing is confronting nature’s elements head-on. It’s one of the quickest ways to feel as alive as I possibly can.

Thoreau put it this way in “Where I Lived, and What I Lived For” in Walden:

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. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practice resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms, and, if it proved to be mean, why then to get the whole and genuine meanness of it, and publish its meanness to the world; or if it were sublime, to know it by experience, and be able to give a true account of it in my next excursion.

This morning, life indeed proved mean, and I got the whole and genuine meanness of it.

Trina, my ever-adventurer friend, and I decided a few days ago it would be a good idea to go for an early-morning bike ride on the NCR Trail. For those of you who don’t know, this is one of those Rails to Trails projects, where old railroad tracks are pulled up and the existing path is converted to a walking/biking trail. The NCR Trail currently runs from Cockeysville, MD to the Pennsylvania line (about 20 miles), where it then turns into the York County Heritage Trail. It then continues north for another 21 miles to York, PA. The incline gradation ranges from 1% to 3%, so it’s a very easy ride. Easy, that is, in normal weather conditions.

Trina wanted to head out at 5:30, as she needed to be off-trail by 8 a.m. I did the math at what time I’d have to get up to meet her there at that time (we were starting at Monkton Station, nearly 25 minutes away), and I pleaded for a 6 a.m. start. We agreed that if we prepped well enough and got right on the trail when we arrived, we could bump it up to 6.

That still meant at least an hour of darkness before sunrise, and taping flashlights to our handlebars last time didn’t exactly work out like we had planned. So, we found some good bike headlights at REI for just $20. With a little bit of tweaking and $6 in bills to hold it securely in place around the bar, I found the light to be just exactly perfect for the ride.

The temperature was 17 degrees when we hit the trail a little after 6:15, and within the first mile, we hit serious patches of ice. We were not yet in any kind of groove, so it was tough navigating through this first icy stretch. By the time we hit the next patch, we were “warmed” up (there was no warming to speak of, but we had acclimated ourselves to the conditions), and we had better control of our bikes. It suddenly felt like we were in some kind of video game, where we needed to stay in the narrow paths of dry soil to stay on our bikes. One sudden move to the left or the right, and we’d lose control immediately.

This was especially hard to do in the dark. There were additional obstacles and challenges we faced, including fallen branches on the trail that our headlights couldn’t pick up until they were just a few feet away. To complicate matters even more, there were low-lying branches that were out of the headlight’s reach. A quick call to duck was all we were able to give each other. Some we missed, and some we didn’t.

When we reached the 4-mile point, we felt numb but pretty good. We decided to push on for another two miles, but almost immediately we hit a serious stretch of ice that was impassable. We figured we had reached our mid-way point and decided to turn around. I stopped to take a drink from my water bottle, which I had filled with tap water before we left.

No such luck. It was now a bottle of ice.

By this time, the sun had started to rise, and we were able to turn out our headlights and enjoy some of the sights along the trail (not to mention the low-lying branches!). The greatest surprise, by far, were the icicles on the rocks by the trail.

I wish we had had more time to really explore, but we still had miles to go, and by this time, we had lost all feeling in our toes and fingers. Besides, every time we stopped for pictures, it made it that much harder to get back into that cycling groove.

We made it back to Monkton with a few minutes to spare (and — no surprise — our SUVs were still the only vehicles in the lot), and we both felt euphoric that we had tackled the trail despite the bitter temperatures.

I haven’t lost that euphoria, even in the warmth of my home hours later. There’s just something about facing nature in her finest hour and taking in all she has to offer. It provides a good-natured, healthy perspective to the rest of your life, for living is so dear, and, as Thoreau suggests, there is much to learn when we live it fully.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Peace on Earth, can it be
Years from now, perhaps we’ll see
See the day of glory
See the day, when men of good will
Live in peace, live in peace again

For me, it was never a question that this song was going to place first in the countdown. For many years, I have held this song in the highest esteem for its simple message that transcends the very things that divide us by our different generations. Peace is something we all wish for, and it is something that we hope someday is achieved throughout the world.

It starts much smaller, though. It starts with me. It starts with you.

Just yesterday, I ordered a Christmas Blend coffee from Starbucks, and on the cup were two messages:

• I wish Grown-Ups Could Remember Being Kids
• I Wish Everyone Could See How Much We All Have In Common

I do not know how to put it more simply.

Peace on Earth, can it be
Every child must be made aware
Every child must be made to care
Care enough for his fellow man
To give all the love that he can

There’s something that happens to us when we get older. We get caught up in the game of life without even knowing it, and we suddenly get hardened by the knocks that do their best to bring us down. We become focused more on ourselves than we do others. We forget to smile, to love, to offer a little kindness without solicitation.

We need to do better than that.

Maybe today’s younger generations need to write themselves a note about how they feel about peace, and how they hope it will be a reality when they grow up. They should seal the envelope and write “To Be Opened in 2025.” Maybe that reminder will help them soften a bit, awake them from the slumber of the machine, and make peace and kindness the center of their lives once again.

During the height of the shopping frenzy yesterday, I was driving along York Road, and a gentleman was trying to merge onto the street. I slowed down, flashed my lights, and waved for him to go ahead of me. Before he could thank me, his face registered more shock than gratitude. I genuinely believe that he thought he was going to be waiting a while for somebody to let him in.

It took less than 10 seconds for me to slow down, let him in, and resume moving along the road. I was surprised I did not get honked at by the “inconvenienced” drivers behind me.

Ten seconds. Maybe that’s all it took for him to believe kindness still existed. Maybe he then passed it along to somebody else. That’s the way it’s supposed to work, at least.

I pray my wish will come true
For my child and your child too
He’ll see the day of glory
See the day when men of good will
Live in peace, live in peace again

Peace on Earth, can it be
Can it be

I believe it can. Truly. With all of my heart. For you, for me, for all of us, in all ways.

I hope you enjoyed the countdown as much as I did in sharing it with you. May each of you have a blessed Christmas, and let’s all do our best to keep Peace and Love in our hearts, in all that we do. Not just during this time of year, but throughout the weeks and months that follow.

God bless, with love and peace,

Rus

Stille Nacht, heilige Nacht,
Alles schläft; einsam wacht
Nur das traute hochheilige Paar.
Holder Knabe im lockigen Haar,
Schlaf in himmlischer Ruh!
Schlaf in himmlischer Ruh!

In any language, Silent Night is probably the most recognized Christmas song ever performed. And in nearly every case, it is recognized for its melodic solemnity in the holiness of the moment of Christ’s birth.

Stille Nacht was first performed 191 years ago tonight in the Church of St. Nicholas in Oberndorf, Austria. Two years earlier, in 1816, the lyrics were written by the Austrian priest Josef Mohr, and the melody was composed the day of the first performance by the Austrian Headmaster Franz Xaver Gruber, reportedly for the guitar. Since then, Silent Night has been translated into 44 different languages and recorded by over 300 performers or artists. To this day, it stands as one of the most spiritual and holy of Christmas carols to be played on Christmas eve and early Christmas morning.

Oíche Chiúin, oíche Mhic Dé,
Cách na suan go héiri an lae.
Dís is dílse ag faire le spéis.
Glór binn aingeal le clos insan aer.
Críost ag teacht ar an saol.
Críost ag teacht ar an saol.

For me, this song will forever take me back to the second Christmas after my father died, and I spent Christmas Eve with my mother to help her through the loneliness of those most solemn moments. We attended a Christmas Eve church service, went to a traditional gathering of friends, and then went home. Mom had this little tape player, and she played a Christmas Classics tape with various carols and gospels, including Silent Night. We didn’t speak much as the music played, but hours later, in the silence of the night, I heard her crying.

When we awoke Christmas morning, she was different. There was an energy to her that I had not seen since Dad’s passing, yet she didn’t share anything with me about why she was feeling this way. We exchanged our Christmas gifts, had breakfast with my Brother and his family, and I went back to my cabin in southern Maryland.

It wasn’t until Christmas Eve, the following year, that Mom shared with me what had happened that night. She told me that she had been visited by an Angel, and that Dad was there as well. Dad told her that he would always be with her, and she should live her life fully. They would be reunited again soon.

Certainly, a lot had changed for Mom in the year between those two Christmas eves. She regained her confidence, and she met a gentleman that would end up staying with her for the next fifteen years — right up to the night she died.

I know Mom was afraid at first to tell me that she had seen my father with an angel that night, but I never doubted her for a moment. To this day, I believe that Dad did visit her, and he and the angel set her free to live her life with God’s grace and blessings. I have no doubt that, when she lay dying in May of 2007, she was visited again, and when she passed away, was carried to heaven in their hands.

It doesn’t matter which version I hear. Whether it is sung in German by the St. Thomas Boys’ Choir, in Irish by Enya, or in English by Stevie Nicks and Robbie Nevil, Silent Night will always be much more than a beautiful Christmas carol. It will forever be laced with the memories of my mother’s reunion with Dad on the holiest of nights, when Christ was born.

Silent night, holy night
All is calm, all is bright
Round yon Virgin Mother and Child
Holy Infant so tender and mild
Sleep in heavenly peace
Sleep in heavenly peaceSilent night, holy night!
Shepherds quake at the sight
Glories stream from heaven afar
Heavenly hosts sing Alleluia!
Christ, the Saviour is born
Christ, the Saviour is born

Silent night, holy night
Son of God, love’s pure light
Radiant beams from Thy holy face
With the dawn of redeeming grace
Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth
Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth

Sometimes, a song moves you so much that words seem to get in the way of its powerful meaning. O Holy Night, which has been sung beautifully by countless artists and choirs, is one of those songs. In fact, when I first created the Christmas Countdown during Thanksgiving weekend, I had it listed as my number two choice. It was only this morning that I switched numbers 3 and 2, particularly for historical purposes. (More on that tomorrow–Christmas Eve!)

Songs 3 and 2, though, are so very similar in the memories they stir of evenings with my mother and father when I was young, when I lived in my cabins when I was a bit older, and now when we drive home from Christmas Eve gatherings with friends and their families. It reminds me of Christmas Eve services held at midnight, both those that I have attended in person and those that have been broadcast on television as Amy and I finish our last-minute wrapping of gifts for our children. O Holy Night stills my world and aligns within me the spiritual meaning of Christmas with all things pure. It is one of the holiest songs in my life.

Perhaps it is the universal stillness that comes after all the shopping is done, where nothing more can be bought; we are given the opportunity to discard the hustle and bustle of the shopping frenzy and turn our thoughts to the stillness of the night, of the promise of a celebratory dawn, a rejoicing of life and love in ways that no material present can ever provide us.

Enjoy this performance of O Holy Night. Please feel free to share your favorite version…there are so many!

Everything — every note, every word, every second of this song fills me with strength, reflection, and a certain faith in the intangible. This is what I believe in. This is what I need in my life, every day, to keep my focus of what my existence on this earth is all about.

I’ve already told you about the Christian rebirth that I experienced in July 1988, and I’ve touched on the topic of spiritual wavering several other times in the countdown. It has become a part of who I am to question this faith from time to time. Amy Grant’s song, however, that shares the Nativity from Mary’s perspective, shifts the selfish focus on me to the selfless and ever-faithful courage of Mary.

When I listen to this song or re-read the lyrics, I find it pretty easy to put any one of our journeys in the same situation. We often find ourselves alone, frightened, and in the dark. Everywhere we turn seems to be a dead-end. Our friends cannot be found or have turned on us, and the tangible things that we have foolishly relied on for strength no longer bring us the comfort (no matter how false and horrible that comfort might have been) we are seeking.

It is through Mary’s strength, her faith in God, that she was able to carry on. There were no tangibles to rely on, only her belief in a breath from heaven to lead her along the way.

If we’ve forgotten how to do it, if we have somehow lost our way, we can find it once again now during this most holy of seasons. At Christmastime, we are given the stories of faith, of miracles, of strength, of perseverance to guide us along our journey, but only if we take the time to stop for a few moments and allow the busy, hectic time of Christmas shopping and preparations to settle like swirling grains of sand in purified waters.

And when they do settle, we are left with the clarity to see all things, believe all things that define our place on this earth.

Take those few moments. Listen to Amy Grant share Mary’s story. Let the grains settle and the glory of clarity shine through you. These are tough days for so many, and regardless of your spiritual foundation, there is great comfort that can come from just taking the time to calm the crazy waters of the more material and mechanistic aspects of the holidays.

Five minutes and twenty-nine seconds. Press play, and let Amy (and the wonderful video) help you settle the swirling grains. . . .

I have traveled many moonless nights,
Cold and weary with a babe inside,
And I wonder what I’ve done.
Holy father you have come,
And chosen me now to carry your son.

I am waiting in a silent prayer.
I am frightened by the load I bear.
In a world as cold as stone,
Must I walk this path alone?
Be with me now.
Be with me now.

Breath of heaven,
Hold me together,
Be forever near me,
Breath of heaven.
Breath of heaven,
Lighten my darkness,
Pour over me your holiness,
For you are holy.
Breath of heaven.

Do you wonder as you watch my face,
If a wiser one should have had my place,
But I offer all I am
For the mercy of your plan.
Help me be strong.
Help me be.
Help me.

Breath of heaven,
Hold me together,
Be forever near me,
Breath of heaven.
Breath of heaven,
Lighten my darkness,
Pour over me your holiness,
For you are holy.

Breath of heaven,
Hold me together,
Be forever near me,
Breath of heaven.
Breath of heaven,
Lighten my darkness,
Pour over me your holiness,
For you are holy.
Breath of heaven.
Breath of heaven.
Breath of heaven