A beautiful new dorm with geothermal heat, a fleet of bicycles, and the reflections of a spectacular sunset in the windows: this must be St. Lawrence.
Author: adohertyh
SLUperMoon
The last supermoon of the summer (such as it is) was hovering over the Adirondacks and over St. Lawrence’s sylvan campus. The interplay with the science buildings seemed appropriate.
Even better, though, was the alignment of the moon directly over the tiny tower in the Adirondacks (cell, I’m guessing?). Maybe it’s innocuous, or maybe it’s part of a plan by a mad scientist to finally control the Moon!
City of the Future!
In the distance land of Portland, Oregon, urban renewal has transformed the rail yards of the Pearl District into galleries and shops and condos in towering new buildings. Doesn’t this scene look like a futuristic utopia? (Hopefully it’s not moments away from the shattering realization that it’s all built on some “Soylent Green”/”The Giver”/”Equilibrium”-esque lie.)
Reclined
Horse shows mean lots of downtime, even at the most exciting events on the continent: a quick rest, some rehydration, and a cell-phone check. I particularly liked this photograph for the symmetry between the faces in profile, each with what appears to be her own helmet visor (worn sans helmet). Looking at the details further, the black colors of phone and nail polish and belt and socks just match so perfectly.
St. Lawrence Campus I
St. Lawrence is an amazing place to spend time in mid-September: the lushness of summer is just barely beginning to crisp into fall, an autumn chill creeps into the evening air, and students (and faculty) have settled into the rhythms of another year.
Zen at Lampson
The arrangement of tiny plants and epic trees and enormous boulders that makes up a Japanese garden is calm and beautiful, but to see the inspirations for those geometries “in the wild,” so to speak, is so much more impressive. Big falls and gnarly roots and little streams make the “real” world just as poetic.
Self-Portrait V
In the realm of landscape photography, I’m interested in the details and the gradients of the landscape, the way it stretches before the viewer and displays the gradient between dense urban environments and empty, person-less ones. In taking a self-portrait, I’m interested in the same types of details: the misting raindrops collecting on my hair and the herringbone pattern in my shirt and the field of stubble on my jaw, and the way these details of texture combine to make a collective picture of me. There, the dense information of my face tapers away to the less person-specific aspects of neck and shoulders that could belong to anyone.
Hoot Owl Express
Bleary-eyed, through a wide-open aperture with the last hints of sun and the now-dominant neon signage as its only lighting, I present to you: the Hoot Owl Express. This is (for the moment) St. Lawrence’s main “student bar,” its walls covered in old hockey jerseys and its staff preternaturally capable of spotting a fake I.D.
Riding in Golf Carts with Dogs
I’ve always loved the link between riders and horses and dogs. Perhaps it’s the classic aristocracy thing, but there are few better looks than sitting ringside with a big, floppy dog, watching the ponies go around on a beautiful morning.
Multnomah Bridge
Traveling across America, I can’t help but be astonished by the difference in scale between the East and West Coasts. The Northeast has waterfalls, sure—but nothing like Multnomah falls. (Well, not many.) The majesty must become almost pedestrian after a while when living adjacent to such a place. I particularly like this image two two reasons: the tiny hikers clustered on the bridge add a sense of impossible scale, and cropping out the top of the falls lends the setting a feeling that the falls must continue on forever. In my own tiny way, as well, I really love the tiny insertion of man-made concrete into the otherwise natural scene.
Watching the Koi
A peaceful, easy moment.
Small Town Survey
Somewhere over America on my transcontinental flight, I spent a lot of time pointing my eyes out the window. (Even calling it staring would probably imply too much attention and effort.) Among the low hills and fields of the whole of North America, I saw this town poking out from amid the rural surroundings. In abusing vignetting effects, the “this is my SimCity!” vibe is transformed to some Cold-War-paranoia-inducing, spy-plane-esque, “Soviet bombers over the heartland” effect. (And in my continuing efforts to document the gradient between urban and rural, this is a new approach.)
Sunset in the Pearl District
Even if the architecture is a bit newer than I prefer, my eyes still open a little wider and my knees get a bit wobbly and my camera springs into action whenever I find myself above urban rooftops.
Oregon and Washington
Aerial photography presents a magical, avian view of the world around us, but until I (someday) get a quadcopter drone, commercial air travel is my best friend. (Other than the fact that pretty much all other aspects of commercial air travel are pretty miserable.)
In any case, this photograph of the Columbia River, with Oregon on the right of the image and Washington on the upper-left, does a good job of capturing the strange mish-mash of agriculture, residences, and industry in the Pacific Northwest.
Copper Stills
The big, copper stills at Woodford Reserve are “where the magic happens,” and I have to admit: against the limestone backdrop, they certainly look impressive. Perhaps the whole scene is bit too carefully constructed for the tourists, but if the stills are real, and the whiskey is real, then I might as well just sit back and enjoy it.
Decaseconds 