HDR Photography
Summer may officially run from solstice to equinox, but I think we’re all in agreement that summer practically runs from Memorial Day to Labor Day in the United States. June, July, and August are the summer months.
I found nightfall had occurred while I was still at dinner with friends last night and I knew the truth at the End of Summer is here. For this professor, that means back to school. Time to finish that syllabus, I guess.
A classic American moment: two brothers watching a baseball game together. (In this case, the Hartford Yard Goats.)
Corvettes were unsurprisingly in abundance at #GRIDLIFE Circuit Legends, but the particular livery of this GT car combined perfectly with motion blurs.
Last weekend brought #GRIDLIFE Circuit Legends to Lime Rock Park and I went full photographer, including a new circularly polarized filter that reveals new details, like the driver and passenger inside this drifting Volvo wagon.
Steam pipe repairs and upgrades outside Trinity College’s Clement Chemistry Building have introduced a dramatic, Star-Wars-worthy pit outside the building that suggests a far more interesting adventure than the realities of winter heating.
A Kentucky Horse Park barn forms a fortuitous angle with the rolling hills for a surreal diamond pattern.
Docked boats, harborside establishments, and tall cliffs look like the ideal Mediterranean setting for a cartoon bear’s (or perhaps pig’s, but we know that’s the Adriatic) fictional home base.
On the deck of the Wind Star, the arrival of dawn matched our arrival into the deepwater harbor of Maó. The details on either shore (captured in this more-than-30,000-pixel-wide panorama) are well worth clicking through to the full-sized image.
Though the Wind Star felt like a plenty-large ship while we traveled aboard her, docking at typical cruise ship terminals (an entirely novel experience for me) demonstrated that she was far smaller than common cruise ships.
On National Connecticut Day (apparently a Real Thing since 2017), I wanted to show these three views from around our state capital. They’re united by a strategy of processing the images darker in exposure than I might normally, producing deep, dark tones and highlights safe from being blown out.
One of my earliest memories is climbing the rope into the hayloft of my grandfather’s sheep barn. As his advancing age prevented him from making the journey out to the barn, it slowly fell into disrepair, but I’m glad I was able to take a final trip to capture what Granddad always referred to as “the homestead”.
This little town on the shores of the Salton Sea is only a few blocks in each direction, a sort of echo of what might have been in a different ecological timeline. My favorite detail of the image, though, are the other lights away on the far shore of the Sea, just beneath the mountains, suggesting another world still out there.
Unlike past summers, when drought left central Kentucky crispy, a rainy summer produced lush foliage around the bridge over the South Elkhorn Creek.
Narrow sticks emerge at regular intervals from the water, silhouetted in the reflected sunset, raising more questions than they can answer along the shoreline of the evaporating Salton Sea.
Bushnell Tower was originally intended to have a twin rising next to it. Though the cost of the first tower ultimately scuttled plants for the second, echoes of the goal remain in the design. It wouldn’t have done to have windows looking directly into one’s neighbors, so the side of the building originally designed to face its partner was constructed with very few windows. My personal stance is to enjoy the little bit of strangeness in a world that threatens to become a bit more smoothed-down and homogenous.
Decaseconds 