Well, the last half of 2011 was a whirlwind. And I've been awfully absent from this whole blog thing. So what's shakin? Well, to start, I moved back to California. As in California knows how to party, as in the Sierra Nevadas, as in Big Sur and the whole amazing coast line, as in Lake Tahoe, as in great wines and beers, as in granite and sandstone, madrone and manzanita. Yep, that one. It seems like ever since I moved away every vacation I've had has brought me back here. So now maybe I'm here for good. Still waiting for some snow... my snowboard is patiently waiting as well. In the meantime I've been road biking and spending more time outside exploring with the Bon. I promise more photos to come. Soon. In the meantime, we'll start off with some road trips.

This is from Wyoming, where it was amazing fall weather with patches of golden leaves in early October.

And another road trip down the eastern side of the Sierras. This one's of Bishop, one of my all-time favorite places on earth.

And Malibu, home of the rich and famous, and lots of egrets. 

After way too much time I finally opened up my Etsy shop - Spruce by Emily Setzer. It's small now but more sweet goods are on the way. So if you're into nature decor, check back every so often.

You get me every time. I can't walk by without stopping to take a closer look. This beauty didn't have a name tag, but it was in the National Botanic Garden, one of my favorite spots in D.C. The horticulturalists there bring in the most amazing plants each summer and plant them in bright blue pots, dispersed around the gardens. If you sit around the pool, surrounded by succulents, you can easily imagine yourself in some cliff-side Mediterranean locale with cobalt waters, where you can ride around on donkeys, eat olives and drink wine. Well, a girl can dream.

The fireflies have been getting down to some serious business lately, lighting up the trees, completely unashamed of their publicly displayed mating rituals. It's pretty cool to watch, but even more cool to wade through the grasses in the dark taking bets on how many mosquito bites you'll have the next day.

Nothing screams spring more than green and pink. And who knew chives were so beautiful? These are grown in a tiny, humble garden planted outside the U.S. Department of Agriculture in DC, and are harvested weekly for a local food kitchen.

The handful of sunshiney days have ruined me and I'm ready for sun and warmth and fun days outside. But I've got a lot to do. You may have noticed that I've been reworking the websites (the temporary setzeder blog has been combined with emilysetzer.com), and you may see some other website reorganization and designs in the future. Plus I'm working on starting a textile line and opening an etsy shop. Whew! Stay tuned and enjoy the spring photos as I post them (after all the bare bushes and trees I'm a bit obsessed with the plethora of flowers).

So yeah, it's still winter and we decided to go hiking and pretend it was warm, wonderful spring. To be completely honest it did reach about 60 degrees, which was big, and I did close my eyes and stare into the blue sunny sky until it hurt my eyes. And there was a waterfall, which never hurts.

Oh, don't mind me. Just testing out my new camera, ie: iPhone. This was taken through the window from a moving train but I absolutely love the graininess and mystical moodiness of it.

The Yuba River is this secret little spot about an hour from Tahoe, down in the foothills where the sun shines brightly, the water is turquoise and the huge boulders glow blindingly white. In other words, it's a little piece of heaven when you've just about had it with winter. Despite having a great time going snowboarding and cross country skiing in Tahoe, this day of warmth and water was just what my awesome friend Sam, her dog Ziggy, and I needed. Now we just need some spring here on the East Coast.

I've been learning how to shoot with large format film with an old Graflex 4x5 press camera, warming up the shutter, measuring light with a meter, lugging around heavy gear, getting one and only one shot, and then dipping and dripping the print in the dark room with the smell of the chemicals, a dog roaming at my feet, and a patient dad to teach me. It's been fun, challenging, and sometimes confusing. It sort of reminds me of when he tried to teach me to drive a manual car. To this day I still don't know how, so I'm determined to make sure I learn this from him instead. This is my first photograph and first print of a cold day along the Rappahannock River.