HDR Photography
Classic Stone Valley! A few minutes and meters down the trail from Monday’s image, I caught my favorite part of the hike at a great time of day. Previous trips to this this spot turned into rehearsals for navigating slippery rocks. This has turned out to be one of my favorite pieces of nature photography, but there’s more to come next Monday.
Grand Prix jumps are in the range of 2 meters. Horses jump over them. I can’t quite reconcile those two sentences in my brain, even while I’m watching it happen. The action is literally superhuman. I thought it was extra-appropriate that this horse had a saddle pad recognizing the fact.
Still no water, but great sunsets nonetheless.
Except perhaps in winter, I’ve always hiked when the sun was high in the sky and settled in before sunset. I have always wanted, however, to capture some dramatic nature scenes with a crazy sky, so this weekend I went sunset hunting. This shot, appropriately, is from early in the night. Later in the week, I’ll be showing more of the shots as I hiked on and the sun disappeared.
Having lived in dorms with entrances under archways myself, I’ve always found them friendly and inviting places. Perhaps that effect stems from the Batcave effect of having a “secret” entrance in a cave-like stone structure. Good place to store the batmobile.
If the weather is just right and recent rain has the Raquette River running high through Stone Valley, a summer hike is just the thing. A geologist would have the technical explanation of the valley’s odd geometry. The hydroelectric dam secretly controls the scene (or the water release, anyway).
The scale of the setting doesn’t really become apparent until you try to spot the tiny people (chemists and physicists, in this case) on the rocks. Bob Ross would be proud.
Old buildings of the northeastern U.S. have been repurposed and adapted so many times that they all have odd quirks and echoes of that modification. Look at the patterns in the brick on the back of this building: the skeletons of old walls and structures where they were removed, and windows covered over where there are walls on the other side. What did the back of the American Theatre once do?
California coastline is so much bumpier and more dramatic than the eastern locations I grew up with. Can you spot the two tiny people on the left cliff, overlooking the water? Nothing like a couple of tiny people to provide a sense of scale.
I love the northwest.
“Cabin” is more an aesthetic style than a humble building in the North Country. At St. Lawrence’s Camp Canaras, the cabins are large structures with complicated architectural flourishes; at midnight, they take on a Tolkeinesque vibe.
Even though the Seattle Great Wheel only showed up after I moved away, when I find myself picturing the Seattle waterfront lately the wheel (along with all of Bertha’s equipment) figures prominently.
This object is not made from wood. (Though the far-off tree in the background is…)
This is is the top of what was once an anchor. Oxidation has transformed iron(0) metal into acres of iron(II) and iron(III) oxides of odd morphology.
Today’s guest post comes from Dr. Piper Klemm, publisher of The Plaid Horse. Piper is traveling the northern land of Alberta, Canada for the Calgary Stampede. She stopped by Lake Louise, near the border with British Columbia, and home to some incredible views (more to come). This particular moment, with sunlight peaking through the clouds to illuminate a lakeside cabin and the canoes on the right of the image, was too perfect to resist posting.
