HDR Photography
Up here in the Berkeley Hills, the entire Bay Area stretches out on a clear day. In the distance is Piedmont and the Oakland Airport, but I particularly engage with the sense of scale that the preposterously-steep fire trail adds to the image. There’s a space for humans in the sprawl of the East Bay.
The bay area is notable for its gentle climate but this is never more true than during the spring. Even Berkeley is full of color, with flowers everywhere. These flowers were just hanging out on the sidewalk.
Early in the morning, Muir Woods is still quiet as the first hikers gear up. This picture really conveys the difference in scale between the people and the enormous sequoias of the park. (I liked it so much, I had to sneak it up on a Saturday.)
A barn in the Northeast is a place of shelter and respite from frost and storms and snow. In the gorgeous Southwest, on the other hand, the barn is a gorgeous, open place with palm trees and big stalls.
On the recent trip to Muir woods we took a trip over to an old coastal battery turned park overlooking the ocean. Well, not much really overlooks the coast on a foggy morning like this. It sort of makes one wonder how effective these overlooks were, at least early in the morning. Almost makes you wonder what’s hiding out there in the fog.
Even if it is more Silent Hill than Far Cry the view is a neat one.
Standing at the bottom of this small grove in the Sequoia sempervirens of Muir Woods, I have no trouble understanding the origins of the Deists’ beliefs. Rain and gentle sunlight drop between the branches of the redwoods and grace the tinier plants on the forest floor. The shape and order of it please the eye.
As shot from Pier 14, Coit Tower stands atop Telegraph Hill. Its white surface, in conjunction with colored lights, make it absolutely stunning to see at night. Such surreal objects can lack a suitable sense of scale when photographed. This photograph satisfies me so in large part because the homes clustering the hill provide that scale, and a sense of the familiar to match the alien.
Early in the morning, before another human has arisen, in the fog and rain and the sound of crashing California surf, the cliffs of Marin are strange and alien and haunting. They stagger out of the fog, all stunted shrubs and jagged rocks and decaying 20th century gun emplacements. I’ve always rather fancied the idea that America kept expanding until they reached the end of the continent, where the cliffs and the alien landscape drove us all a bit mad.
This shot of, I believe, bridge 3 in the picturesque Muir Woods is proof that it really is the early bird that gets the worm. Early in the morning you feel almost like you’re the only person around, it is really a spectacular place which is definitely a spot to visit if you ever find yourself in the bay area. Having recently experienced it for the first time it really makes me wonder why I didn’t make it up here earlier.
Today’s post comes courtesy of Piper J. Klemm:
Two-time US Olympic Gold Medalist McLain Ward and Antares F jump in the AIG Million Dollar Grand Prix in Thermal, California on March 17, 2013. Ward and Antares F won the Million Dollar Grand Prix in Saugerties, NY in September 2012.
Charcoal grill, barbecue sauce, and enormous chicken thighs. The moment we slapped those bad boys on the grill, the first bits of fat made this massive flare-up. Not the best for smooth grilling, but so gorgeous in the camera’s eye.
Basically, it’s chicken from the depths of Mordor.
Just around the corner in my neighborhood, across the parking lot of the Energy Biosciences Building, is this little slice of Downtown Berkeley neighborhood. The mixture of tacky, earthquake-proofed 1960s architecture, charming older apartment buildings, abandoned structures, and sprinkling of trees make it home.
The quiet corners of Berkeley’s campus are united by the coniferous smell that takes me back to summers in New England. Even when science won’t cooperate, no walk home disappoints me if I travel through this strange, surreal little place.
(And as a note to the geometry buffs out there–yes, I realize that the annular part of the picture is not reflective. The name was too good to pass up.)
Reality has taken this title a bit too literally. UC Berkeley’s Memorial Stadium is set into the hills above campus, but the degree to which this is true doesn’t become apparent until you see the surrounding two-story homes towering over the field. There’s a charming nonlinearity to the combination of massive, epic sports arena and charming local homes.
A real, rare storm lashes the East Bay. To the south of campus, the stark concrete facades of the undergrad students’ dorms and the elaborate homes of Piedmont stand in opposition to the elements.
