HDR Photography
The seaplanes dotting the shores of Long Lake offer amazing views and transportation to visitors to the aptly-named Long Lake. On this rainy Sunday afternoon, however, they were quietly bobbing by their docks. The 1960s-era motels, the float planes, the miniature beaches and vacation homes: driving through Adirondack Park is like taking a step back in time. (The complete absence of cell reception furthers the effect.)
There’s comfort in the Adirondack charm of Mirror Lake Inn. The lodge atmosphere, the wood paneling, hand-made furniture and tiny lamps and games of checkers: it all brings me back to simpler times. (And when I’m sick of being inside, I can go sit on the porch in a rocking chair.)
Waterfalls don’t necessarily have the same impressive drama from the top, but they present another kind of wonder: the calm, burbling stream that disappears to infinity, replaced by the view of a sylvan landscape beyond. The pebbles and the trees contrast in lengthscale dramatically, but they all “belong” here.
The Cathedral of Learning, like most Neo-Gothic buildings, is mostly an exercise in symmetry. I’m all the more fascinated, then, by the little nooks and crannies that eschew this symmetry in favor of their own localized logic. This little bench-and-fireplace alcove, with its overlooking balconies and hexagonal lights, sets itself apart. I can’t help but think it’d look drastically more inviting and charming with a couple of big, woode benches pulled up to the fire. Perhaps they were missing because this was June, and nobody needs a fireplace in Pittsburgh in June.
Watching the Grand Prix tends to be the time when I shoot pictures of horses, not people, but this particular moment had a fascinating “broken symmetry” to it: the trellis and the ramp are organized perfectly, but the biological elements (the tree, the shrubs, the people) perturb that symmetry.
Rolling over in a strange hotel bed, in an an unfamiliar city, at 5:30 AM: not the time most conducive to photographic adventure. Seeing these dramatic clouds over Mirror Lake, and their drastic shadows, was enough to get me moving. Still, I ran into a problem rare on the west coast: it was so much warmer and more humid outside that I had to work quickly before the lens fogged.
Spending an afternoon wandering the labyrinthine corridors of the Cathedral of Learning renders me literally impressed–feeling the weight of knowledge and Neo-Gothic architecture on my mind. The symmetry, detail, and even the height all produce an overwhelming impression. Evidently, the effect was a bit more pronounced in the case of the gentleman at lower left. Is there anything more quintessential of the current age than slouching and checking a cell phone in the presence of such beauty?
We visited the Vermont Summer Festival this weekend and watched the Grand Prix with its 1.45 meter jumps. The physicality of horse jumping five feet into the air never gets old, but my favorite part has to be the facial expressions and the activities of the riders who muscle these equine missiles around the course.
The Cathedral of learning is just as dramatic on the outside as the inside. The Neo-Gothic lines and the oppressive cloud cover of an oncoming thunderstorm make for a feeling of significant foreboding. I can’t help but imagine that the building was designed for some sinister, supernatural purpose, and that we might need to call in some experts to fix it.
When horses take baths, it’s a bit less dignified than the human equivalent. Nonetheless, I loved the interplay of the repeating wooden stall geometry with the smooth and random biological shapes of the horses.
The night is normally an amber-bathed fry-cooker for my mind. On this particular night last fall, however, high temperatures and a local power outage changed the hues of the world to the red-and-blue-and-white of emergency lights.
On my way through upstate New York, I paused for a day in Lake Placid. This strange Alpine-style town is the home to the US Winter Olympic training efforts, but also happens to have a gorgeous series of lakes and forested Adirondack mountains nearby. Tiny boathouses and grandiose hotels dot Mirror Lake, but this single, ideal little sailboat (with its appropriately patriotic sail) seemed apart from them all. The photograph shows the effect: the boat is isolated on the mirrored surface of the lake, apart from the summer business on the shore.
Having moved away from Berkeley, certain details of life in the quasi-city become more and more unbelievable. This particular abode seems to have been plucked from the pages of a fairy tale.
Today’s guest post comes courtesy of Colin Hill.
Here is the boat lauch ramp on the shores of Lake Pontoosuc, just north of Pittsfield, Massachusetts. Although spring has arrived and the sun takes longer to disappear behind the mountains in the distance, the water is still icy cold to the touch.
I cooked up a bonus Sunday post: from the same waterfall on Mt. Riga where I took last week’s picture,another shot of the lovely swimming hole (and perhaps a broader perspective on what makes it such an incredibly lovely place to relax on a muggy summer afternoon.)
