HDR Photography
In the past week, I’ve explored the Adirondacks in autumn. This particular setting (just across the street from last week’s sea plane) is another irreducible representation of the glassy water, expansive sky, and intimate beaches of the region. Though we’re officially into fall, I’m pretty confident that these canoes and kayaks are going to see at least a few more weeks’ use. (Will they be dodging icebergs eventually?)
Ready to launch those kayaks and disturb the chilly mirror of a fall river in the Adirondacks? Me, neither. (Too cold and too placid.)
Driving through the Adirondacks during these first few weekends of fall, the summer vacationers are in full retreat. The rear guard hangs on for a few more weeks as the trees turn to oranges and reds, but the end is near. Even if I know rationally that the sea plane is grounded (watered?) for the night, I can’t help but imagine the plane waiting to carry away the summer’s strong survivors.
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!
This tiny island sits in Tupper Lake’s appropriately named Rock Island Bay, amid this quintessentially Adirondack-y landscape of rolling hills and coniferous trees. This particular island has always been notable to me because of the degree to which it aligns with my boyhood ideal of “where to hide out.” Swimmable, but just barely for a 10-year-old, from the shore. A tree for the barest shelter and a twig, now and then, from which to craft a fishing hook. When the day of adventures is over, a little island like this one would be just big enough for a boy-sized lean-to for my childhood self. Wouldn’t that be paradise?
Where earth meets sky at the edge of the horizon, the foothills of the Adirondacks oscillate under the autumn colors and I use increasingly baroque adjectives to describe the North Country.
Decaseconds 