HDR Photography
Neal Stephenson’s “burbclaves” in Snow Crash are subdivisions-as-mini-nation-states—an intentionally silly idea in the satirical context of the novel’s libertarian dystopia. These Denver suburbs are now my internal vision of how such a burbclave would look.
This array of wind turbines, silhouetted against the sunset and flashing their red warning lights, looks far more sinister in a way that contradicts its positive impact on renewable energy generation.
We were in Traverse City, Michigan, during last year’s Fourth of July celebrations. Fireworks over the Grand Traverse Bay have some added drama, but the area is so far north (and west in its time zone) that the sky still hadn’t fully darkened.
After the main show has finished, private citizens produce their own displays up and down the beach.
Though many may call this piece a pyramid, the pyramids with which we’re most familiar have a four-sided base. This structure has a three-sided base, making it a tetrahedron (a structure that I, being a chemist, see constantly.) Speaking of chemistry, my favorite aspect of the structure is the uneven oxidation. Though initially painted white when placed in the salty Salton Sea, corrosion has crawled up the legs, forming a gradient from most-corroded at the water’s surface to pristine at the pinnacle.
Albion College’s Equestrian Center sits on 340 acres near the outskirts of campus. In addition to fields and paddocks, the manor house of the land’s previous inhabitants sits on a nearby hill, overlooking the goings-on.
The facility has a lot of hay storage.
Inside the facility, the region’s Pony Clubs were holding a rally. This particular pony looks pretty surprised to be finding themselves in the wash stall.
Sailboats and Sutro Tower are both iconic components of the Bay Area summer, but the warm Friday afternoon implied by this image is not a part of that post-solstice set. Like many evenings, sweatshirt weather was close at hand.
Waaay off in the distance, beyond the un-grid of this subdivision, is downtown Denver. Beyond that are the Rocky Mountains. That sense of being sort-of-near spectacular sights while still being trapped within cul-de-sacs is one that I expect is pretty common to people who spent some amount of their childhood living within such developments.
Decaseconds may have begun as a photo-a-day website, but I occasionally like to break our rules and bring a mega-set of images for full immersion in a surreal event.
In this case, that event is the 2022 Devon Horse Show—a folded-together hyperspace of top-tier English riding and county fair inside an otherwise-upscale residential neighborhood outside Philadelphia. That overstuffed experience is best captured in this image of riders warming up in front of a Ferris wheel.
“Devon blue” is a lovely, light-blue shade that’s covering almost every surface at the show.
The small amount of space means the spectators are close to the action.
The warm-up ring and storage areas are likewise squeezed in amongst the barns and area homes.
In spite of the odd setting, the same special moments of human-horse connection still remain.
The maroon barns seem an… odd choice… in combination with Devon blue.
This rider got the same color-choice memo the seats did.
The warm-up ring is a place for more than just warm-ups; a lot of conversations seem to fit well into its edges.
Though the show occurred over Memorial Day, unseasonably cool weather kept many riders in winter jackets.
When I say that the horse show is taking place in a residential area, I’m not kidding: the gray house just behind the bands in this shot is a private home, outside the horse show. Everything is happening in a tiny space.
This shot doesn’t have anything profound to say beyond a bright explosion of the importance of water to horse shows: from the drinks in riders hands to the water used to keep rings from becoming dusty nightmares.
A moment of rising energy in the warm-up ring.
Jumper divisions produce some dramatic images, whether in profile…
Or three-quarter view.
This view again highlights how close the stands are to the action. Off in the distance, the concession area is also visible beyond the fence.
Dramatic jump shots are most easily obtained when the photographer is practically under the jump.
The high rise of the stands also opens new opportunities to capture horses from above, as in this shot of warm-up ring traffic.
Riders waiting to compete (or recently finished) relax in the stands.
Another view of the warm-up ring and the local homes and businesses just beyond.
Jumping must be different with such a large and visible audience.
Grays match well with bright orange jumps.
None of this would be possible without the hard work of the jump crew.
A happy face after a solid round.
Before an under saddle, many riders crowd the in gate.
Another member of the jump crew, enjoying the weather and company.
The under saddle appears chaotic to an outside observer…
But those riding are focused.
Bombay Beach has all manner of contextless structures; why shouldn’t that include a disembodied front porch?
Dune’s naturally occurring “Shield Wall” always seemed a bit fictional to me—until I saw Denver’s metropolitan area from above. Look at that sharp divide between mountains and the valley floor!
A full-scale fireworks display is usually “far away”—over a park or a body of water, perhaps. When St. Lawrence University puts on a fireworks show for graduation, however, the fireworks are right on campus. Imagine watching that show from your dorm-room window!
Bombay Beach is awash in two things: (1) crystallized runoff from the Salton Sea and (2) surreal sculptural juxtapositions. Both the rusty pyramid and the sand rail are metal framework structures, but in radically different applications and states of repair.
I posit that, from a certain point of view, life gets no better than hanging out on a sailboat on a Friday afternoon in the June sunshine. Not in reality, of course—there are lots of ways to enjoy life—but the version of the experience in my mind is just unbeatable.
Given their altitudes, I’m not surprised that clouds and mountains would be friends. I’m a little more interested that only a single set of peaks was deemed worthy of a cloud, while its nearby neighbors remain cloudless.
Fireworks are lovely displays of chemistry and physics in action on their own, of course, but there’s an extra dimension of enjoyment from being part of a crowd and feeling the shared excitement.
Decaseconds 