Category Archives: Travel

When a Chore Turns Into a Treasure Hunt

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Two deer standing in a sunlit grassy clearing surrounded by dense green foliage.

Rediscovering Hidden Gems in My Photo Archives

Dolphins swimming together at the ocean surface with their dorsal fins visible above the water.When I started The Great Photo Tagging Project, I was doing everything I could not to feel overwhelmed. My archives had grown to more than 10,000 photos, and most of them weren’t tagged. Any time I needed a specific picture, I had to scroll endlessly—unless I happened to remember the exact year and month I took it.

Take Hawaii, for example. I started traveling there in 2008 and went annually for years. I have hundreds of photos from those trips, but no clue which year a particular shot belonged to. Finding one specific image felt nearly impossible.

To make matters worse, I didn’t know about tagging when I began blogging. I’d find a photo, use it, and then toss it right back into the black hole of the untagged archives. So when I finally decided to tackle this project, it felt daunting.

The Slow March Through the BacklogA powerful geyser eruption sending steam and water upward, surrounded by grassy terrain and a forested backdrop.

At first, everything went smoothly. I was happily tagging away, and I made a rule: any new photo gets tagged immediately so I don’t add to the backlog. Somewhere along the line, though, the fun faded. Tagging became a chore.

Still, I was determined. I’d skip a day or two, then come back and knock out a page of 20 photos, slowly working my way backward through the years.

I’m currently in November 2016, inching my way toward the very beginning of the archive—January 2011. Some months are easy with just 10 or 20 photos. But then I hit a trip month and suddenly I’m staring down 300 images. Momentum? Slowed.

When the Chore Became a Treasure Hunt

But recently something unexpected happened. Without a car, I haven’t been able to get out and take new photos, so I’ve been relying on the archives. And as I started reviewing images in small batches, I began noticing things I’d completely missed before.

Treasure #1: The Puffin

Original puffin photo showing the bird floating on calm water before enlargement.I once waded through more than 200 puffin photos during post‑processing and somehow missed a gem. But while tagging, I enlarged one tiny puffin and—there it was—the iconic mouthful‑of‑fish shot I thought I’d missed forever. My first treasure.

Close‑up of an Atlantic puffin with a mouthful of fish, revealing details missed in the original thumbnail.

Treasure #2: Haleakala

The untouched Haleakala photo showing the raw volcanic landscape before post‑processing.I’ve always loved my Haleakala photo, but my artistic eye said it was a little flat. When I rediscovered it during tagging, I decided to give it a little post‑processing love. Suddenly it had punch, depth, drama. Treasure number two.

Vibrant, enhanced photo of Haleakala’s volcanic terrain with sharp detail and dramatic cloud formations.

Treasure #3: The Submarine Shots

The untouched shipwreck photo showing the quiet underwater scene before enhancement.Then came two photos taken from a submarine. Shooting through thick porthole glass isn’t ideal, but with a little editing magic, those images transformed from “nice memory” to “something really special.”

The transformed shipwreck image showing rich color, marine life, and dramatic underwater detail after post‑processing.

The untouched eagle ray photo showing the quiet underwater moment before enhancement.

Vibrant, enhanced photo of three spotted eagle rays swimming across the ocean floor, showcasing their patterns and graceful movement.

Finding Beauty in the “Ugly Ducklings”

Now I’m energized again. I’m not just tagging my inventory—I’m hunting for hidden gems. I’m looking for those overlooked, imperfect photos that just need a little love to become beautiful swans.

And honestly? I can’t wait to find my next treasure.

What about you? Have you ever looked at an old photo with new eyes and discovered a treasure hiding in plain sight?

 

The Remarkable Return of Maine’s Puffins

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Five Atlantic puffins stand together on a large gray rock, their bright orange feet and colorful beaks contrasting with the muted stone. Green vegetation and blurred rocks fill the background, creating a natural coastal island setting.

 

A Personal Puffin Prelude

A scattered group of seabirds floats on choppy ocean water, bobbing among small waves. The birds are spaced across the frame, creating a sense of movement and open sea.I’ve shared my own puffin‑chasing adventures in Maine — from the fog‑soaked boat ride to Eastern Egg Rock to the wild, wind‑whipped journey out to Machias Seal Island in Canadian waters. Those trips were unforgettable, and they gave me the chance to photograph the clowns of the sea up close.

But I don’t think I’ve ever told the story behind why puffins disappeared from Maine in the first place, or how they eventually came home. It’s a tale equal parts heartbreaking and hopeful — and a reminder that humans can cause great harm, but also great healing.

When Feathers Became FashionAn illustrated group of five women wearing elaborate late‑19th‑century hats, each decorated with feathers, bows, or plumes. The women are dressed in high‑collared blouses with lace and ruffles, showcasing the ornate fashion styles of the era.

To understand the puffins’ disappearance, we have to step back to the late 1800s, when extravagant feathered hats were the height of fashion. Women’s hats weren’t just decorated — they were practically entire bird displays. Egrets were especially prized, but they weren’t the only victims.

A feather census in New York City once documented more than 700 women wearing hats adorned with feathers from roughly 40 native bird species. Herons, owls, woodpeckers — all were hunted, plucked, and sold to meet the demand.

Feathers became a global commodity. When the Titanic sailed on its maiden voyage, it carried more than 40 cases of millinery feathers destined for New York. Adjusted for today’s value, those crates were insured for over $2.3 million. In 1912, only diamonds were worth more pound for pound.

The Puffins Pay the Price

An Atlantic puffin stands on a pale rock near the ocean, its bright orange feet and colorful beak contrasting with the blue water in the background.Atlantic puffins once thrived on islands throughout the Gulf of Maine. But the feather trade wasn’t their only threat. Puffins were also hunted for meat and eggs, and their colonies were systematically wiped out.

At the same time, humans were destroying tern colonies — not realizing that terns acted as natural security guards. Without terns to chase off gulls, eagles, and other predators, puffins had no protection. They abandoned their nesting islands.

By the early 1900s, puffins had vanished entirely from the United States.

A Graduate Student With a Big Idea

Fast‑forward to 1971. Stephen Kress, then a young ornithology graduate student from Cornell, was working as a wildlifeAn Atlantic puffin stands on a rocky surface holding several small fish in its colorful beak. Its bright orange feet contrast with the muted rocks, and the scene reflects the bird’s natural coastal habitat. instructor in Maine. He learned that puffins once bred on Eastern Egg Rock, just six miles away — but hadn’t returned in nearly a century.

That discovery lit a fire in him.

Kress launched what became known as Project Puffin, an ambitious effort to reestablish a breeding colony on Eastern Egg Rock. Because puffins spend most of the year floating on the open ocean and only return to land to breed, he had a narrow window — April through August — to make the island feel like home.

The Early Experiments

An Atlantic puffin stands on a rocky surface, its bright orange feet and colorful beak vivid against the gray stones. Mossy patches on the rocks hint at its natural coastal habitat.

Kress and his team built artificial burrows and hand‑raised puffin chicks brought from Newfoundland. Between 1973 and 1981, they transplanted 954 pufflings to Eastern Egg Rock.

The chicks fledged successfully… but none returned to breed.

Mirrors, decoys, artificial burrows — nothing convinced the puffins to stay. For years, Egg Rock was a place to visit, not a place to raise a family.

The Turning Point

Everything changed in 1980 when terns — absent since 1936 — suddenly began nesting on Eastern Egg Rock again. TheirA tern flies low over rippling ocean water with its wings spread wide, holding a small fish in its beak as droplets fall beneath it. return created the protective environment puffins needed.

And then, in 1981, the miracle happened: the first puffling was raised on Egg Rock by puffin parents.

That single chick marked the beginning of a comeback no one had thought possible.

A close-up portrait of an Atlantic puffin, its bright orange-and-red beak and black-and-white plumage sharply detailed against a softly blurred background.A Colony Reborn

Today, Eastern Egg Rock hosts a thriving puffin colony along with roseate terns, black guillemots, razorbills, and other seabirds. Across five Maine islands, there are now roughly 1,300 breeding pairs of Atlantic puffins.

A species once wiped out from U.S. waters is now restored — thanks to persistence, science, and a whole lot of hope.

A Welcome Home

It’s one of the greatest conservation success stories in North America. The puffins — those bright‑beaked, clumsy, wonderful little birds — are back where they belong.

And every time I see them, whether bobbing on the waves or hopping into their burrows with a beak full of fish, I’m reminded that sometimes humans really can fix what humans broke.

An Atlantic puffin floats on calm ocean water, holding several small silver fish in its colorful beak. Its black-and-white plumage contrasts with the rippled blue surface around it.

JUST ANOTHER TRIP ON THE ROAD OF LIFE

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Expansive badlands landscape with layered rock formations, rugged cliffs, and grassy rolling hills under a partly cloudy sky.

🌾 Feeling Philosophical Today

I saw a meme this morning, and it stopped me in my tracks. Now, most memes fall into one of three categories:

  • the ones that make me laugh
  • the ones that make me mad
  • and the ones that don’t deserve a second glance

But this one… this one hit close to home.

Older woman with short white hair riding a bicycle on a gravel path beside a lake, wearing a loose red dress, with the quote “A lot of life is just how you deal with the bumps in the road” and a small “Healing Heart’s” logo beneath it.

🚜 Why Around Dusty Roads Exists

White car driving fast on a winding dirt road, kicking up a large cloud of dust in a dry rural landscape with sparse vegetation.I named my blog Around Dusty Roads because the roads I grew up on really were dusty. Dirt roads everywhere — except during mud season or winter, when they turned into icy slip‑n‑slides. That’s just life in the Adirondacks when you’re a kid.

These days, most of those roads are paved, civilized, and well-behaved. But if you know where to look, you can still find a few honest-to-goodness dirt roads hiding out like old friends.

And that meme made me think of those roads.

🛞 Life’s Bumpy RoadsLong straight dirt road stretching across open grassy plains with scattered muddy potholes under a cloudy sky.

Life is full of bumps, potholes, and mud. You don’t get to choose whether they show up — only how you deal with them when they do.

One of my favorite examples? The day my sister Sandy and I got spectacularly lost in South Dakota.

🤦‍♀️ The Pow Wow That Never Was

Straight dirt road stretching across wide open grassy plains under a cloudy sky, disappearing toward the distant horizon.We were on a Native American reservation, trying to get to a Pow Wow. We pulled out of the parking lot and immediately went right instead of left.

The road was dirt. It had rained the night before. So we had the perfect combination: dry dust on top, mud and puddles underneath. A real adventure starter kit.

About five minutes in, we both started to suspect we had gone the wrong way. The plains stretched out around us, wide and empty, and that dirt road just kept going. And going. And going.

Sandy muttered, “Stupid white women,” imagining exactly what the guy who gave us directions must’ve thought as he watched us confidently head off in the wrong direction.

And that was it. The tone was set. We laughed — oh my, did we laugh.

We laughed like hyenas as we splashed through puddles, slid through mud, and barreled down what felt like the Longest Dirt Road in the World. Every mile made it funnier.

We never found the Pow Wow. But when we finally reached a tiny village and a blessedly paved road, we laughed even harder. Sandy wanted to get out and kiss the asphalt.

🌟 A Memory That Sticks

That muddy detour in South Dakota still stands out as one of those unforgettable moments — not because we were lost, but because we laughed our way through every ridiculous mile.

Life throws mud holes, wrong turns, and endless stretches of uncertainty at all of us. But the journey gets a whole lot lighter when you can find something to smile about while you’re slogging through it.

🚲 Just Keep Pedaling

So, like the lady in the meme: Deal with the bumps in the road. Keep moving forward. And whatever happens… just keep pedaling.

Child riding a bicycle through a small puddle on a dirt path, lifting both legs off the pedals, surrounded by green grass and trees.

 

HOW TO VACATION IN KEY WEST

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Sloppy Joe's Bar on Duval St Key West

🌴 What Not to Do in Key West

A Dustyroads Survival Guide for America’s Favorite Tropical Fever Dream

🌞 Key West: Where Logic Takes a Vacation and Never Comes Back

Helicopter over US1 in the Florday KeysYou’ve made it to the Keys, bless your brave little soul. You survived the iguana speed bumps of Islamorada, the deer gangs of Big Pine Key, and the “is this road drunk or am I?” experience of US‑1. At one point I even saw a helicopter hovering over the highway like it was checking on the mental stability of everyone making that drive — and honestly, fair And now, as your reward, you get to watch a sunburned housecat with emotional baggage square up against an iguana on Duval Street like it’s pay‑per‑view.

A few steps later, there’s a man painted head‑to‑toe in metallic gold, perched on a milk crate, silently judging everyone who doesn’t understand why this week’s unofficial island theme is “neon pineapple serenity.”

Key West is America’s last surreal fever dream — a tropical snow globe someone shook too hard and then decided to live inside. It clings to the bottom of Florida like a barnacle with seniority and a strong union.

Reality shows up, gets carded, and is politely escorted out by a man in unicorn pajamas who also owns three hotels and a scooter rental business.Concg Replublic flag , the flag od Key West. Blue backgrouns with sun

Keep your shoes on. Something in the sand probably bites. So before you wander too far into the Conch Republic, here are a few things to keep in mind — little survival tips to help you enjoy the island without becoming part of its folklore.

🐔 1. Don’t Start Anything with the Chickens

Key West Rooster expresses his displeasureKey West chickens are not pets. They are tiny feathered authority figures with generational confidence and zero fear of humans. Their ancestors arrived decades ago, decided the island was theirs, and never once paid rent.

The roosters strut like elected officials. The hens? The hens are the real muscle. I met a couple built like linebackers — broad‑shouldered ladies who looked ready to write me a citation.

Try to shoo one and you’ll get a stare so intense it’ll make you rethink every decision you’ve made since 1998.

Get too close to their chicks and you’ll find yourself sprinting toward a hotel lobby like you’re being chased by a very small, very angry HOA board.

Respect the chickens. They run the island. You’re just visiting.

🦎 2. Don’t Expect a Real Beachsandy beach with palm trees

You might arrive thinking, “Island, ocean, sunshine — perfect beach day,” and you may even bring an inflatable flamingo with the kind of optimism usually reserved for lottery winners. But Key West doesn’t care. None of that matters.

Key West is coral, seaweed, and sharp prehistoric things that do not care about your vacation fantasies.

If you want soft, powdery sand, grab the next boat to the Bahamas. If you want coral shards that slice through flip‑flops like warm butter, try Key Largo. I did. Once. I still have emotional scars.

Smathers? Man‑made. Higgs? Acceptable if you enjoy sea lettuce and the faint aroma of sunscreen mixed with toddler rebellion.

Key West isn’t a beach destination. It’s a vibe — and the vibe is “We tried. Sort of.”

🍹 3. Don’t Go Looking for Jimmy Buffett’s House

Colorful Margaritaville sign with Jimmy Buffet's namePeople come to Key West convinced Jimmy Buffett is still tucked away somewhere, strumming a guitar and handing out margaritas like party favors.

But Jimmy Buffett doesn’t live at an address. He lives in a mood.

If you really want to find him, you don’t need a map — you need a blender, a porch chair, and absolutely no guilt about doing nothing for the rest of the afternoon.

Where does he live?

Margaritaville. Population: anyone who’s decided they’re done with stress for the day.

Directions?Spilled salt shaker

First star to the right and straight on ’til morning. Bring sunscreen. And a salt shaker — you never know when you’ll lose it.

So pour your margarita, take a breath, and remember: It’s 5 o’clock somewhere.

🚫🚗 4. Don’t Try to Drive on Duval

Sweet heavenly biscuits, do not attempt to drive on Duval Street. It’s not a street — it’s a living organism made of tourists, glitter, questionable decisions, and humidity.

You will encounter:

  • People who forgot how sidewalks work
  • People who think Key Lime Pie grants temporary immortality
  • People spiritually, chemically, or Key‑West‑enhanced
  • Outfits that should come with warning labels

And then the performers:

  • Pirates
  • Mimes
  • Pirate‑mimes
  • Fire jugglers
  • Six chihuahuas dressed as mermaids
  • A unicyclist going the wrong way while singing ABBA

Drag Queen in red shoe. Famouse show drop for New Year's eve in Key WestMy best memory? New Year’s Eve on the gay end of Duval — wall‑to‑wall people, electric energy, and the famous drag queen shoe drop. I had a front‑row seat at a show and got dragged onstage to dance with the star. The crowd roared. The island vibrated. It was magic.

Duval is unforgettable. But it is absolutely no place for a car.

Park somewhere sane. Walk like the rest of the dehydrated pilgrims.

🐾 5. Don’t Skip Hemingway’s HouseBlack Polydactl cat looking very judgemental

If you go to Key West and don’t visit Hemingway’s house, the cats will know. They’re polydactyl — extra toes, extra judgment.

These cats are island nobility. They roam the property like tiny monarchs, lounging on furniture and accepting admiration with royal indifference. I have no idea how many there are — just a lot. Enough to suspect they’re running the estate.

The house itself is a sunlit time capsule of Hemingway’s life. You can practically feel unfinished manuscripts drifting around.

And of course, Hemingway made Sloppy Joe’s legendary — looping us right back to Duval Street.

Visit the cats. Pay your respects. They were here long before you.

📍 6. Don’t Expect the Southernmost Point to Be Empty

Southernmost point buoy, Key west FlThe Southernmost Point buoy is a celebrity. The line wraps around the block like it’s handing out concert tickets.

You’ll see:

  • Families in matching shirts
  • Couples trying to look romantic while sweating
  • People arguing about whether Cuba is visible (it’s not)

Take your photo. Smile. Pretend you’re not melting.

Pro tip: Take your picture from the side. No one will know. No one will care.

Go once. Move on. The buoy isn’t going anywhere.

🌅 7. Don’t Miss Mallory Square at SunsetFamouse trained cats of Key West in Malloery Square at sunset

Mallory Square at sunset is Key West’s heartbeat — a nightly circus of jugglers, acrobats, musicians, fire performers, and a cat who jumps through hoops like it’s auditioning for Broadway.

Locals, tourists, dreamers, wanderers — everyone stops, faces the water, and watches the sun drop into the ocean like it’s the final scene of a movie.

When it touches the horizon? The whole square cheers. Every single night.

Grab a drink. Find a railing. Let the sunset remind you why people come here and never want to leave.

🌴 And That’s Key West

Key West is a tangle of contradictions: chickens with seniority, beaches that lie about being beaches, sunsets that put on a full performance, and an island reality that wanders off whenever it feels like it. It’s the place where you danced with a drag queen, dodged coral shards, admired royal cats, and discovered that sometimes the best directions really are “first star to the right.” It lingers long after you leave — loud, strange, unforgettable.

Crowds gather in Mallorty Square, Key west to watch the sun set

Mystical, Magical, Velvet Nights

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Night sky with the Milky Way over Lake George NY

Car traveling on a dirt road with dust billowing out behind itGrowing Up on Dusty Roads

I grew up a country girl. In fact, the name of my blog — Arounddustyroads — comes straight from childhood. Most of the roads around our house were dirt back then. Paving came later. I rode my horse along those back roads, learned to drive on them, and carry a lifetime of memories of dust billowing behind the car as we rattled our way home.

 

The Five Seasons of Country LifeCar stuck in mud during spring mud season

Where I grew up, we didn’t just have spring, summer, fall, and winter. We had a fifth season: mud season. During the spring thaw, the roads turned into deep, sticky traps. Getting stuck in a snowbank was annoying — but getting stuck in the mud was a whole different level of misery. You learned quickly where the ruts were, where the ground was soft, and how far you could push your luck.

dark night sky with milky wayA Sky Without Streetlights

I don’t get home much these days, but one thing hasn’t changed: there still aren’t any streetlights where I lived. That mattered. Without them, the night sky was extraordinary — a deep velvet blackness with the Milky Way slashing across it like a river of stars.

We’d lie on the lawn and look for constellations. Orion with his bright belt. The Big Dipper, always easy to find. The sky felt endless, ancient, and close enough to touch.

The Perseids and Leonids: Childhood Ritualsmeteor or shooting star streaks across the sku with milkly way in the background

Watching the Perseids in August was almost a ritual. We’d call out the shooting stars — There’s one! I saw two! So excited, so full of wishes. You could make a hundred wishes on a good night.

The Leonids came in November. We saw them too, but we didn’t stand around outside to watch. November in the Adirondacks is no place to linger.

The Aurora We Rarely Saw

The one wonder we didn’t see often was the aurora. The Northern Lights belong to the northern sky, and we were just a little too far south. My parents told stories of pulling the car over to watch the lights dance, but I must have been very young — I don’t remember it myself.

These days, the aurora seems to be creeping farther south. My weather app lights up with headlines: Aurora visible in Maine. Northern Lights reach New York. But here, with all the city lights, I still haven’t seen them.

Northern lights dancing in the night sky

A Wish Still Waiting

I don’t know how many trips my old bones still have left, but I’d like to see the aurora before I die. I went to Alaska once, but it was the wrong time of year. No lights. Alaskans say the aurora sings — that the dancing curtains of color make music.

I’d love to hear it someday.

Glass igloos with Northern LightsSleeping Under the Northern Lights

There’s one dream I hold close: sleeping in a glass igloo in Finland, watching the Northern Lights from bed. Imagine vacationing in an igloo — already magical — but a glass igloo, where the whole night sky becomes your ceiling. If the aurora appeared, you wouldn’t miss a second of it.

Just… wow.

Have You Seen the Sky Dance?

Have you ever watched the night sky light up with dancing colors and more stars than you could ever count? Where were you, and when?

Like most things in nature, we can never be sure when something wonderful will show up. But when it does, it stays with you forever.

Sanding in the light of the night sky enjoying the wonders of nature