HDR Photography
In my last post from Mohonk Mountain House, I talked about the importance of seating to develop a sense of welcoming and place. The same technique is employed outside, as well as in. This rustic love seat overlooks the lake and its swimming area on the far side.
A wet, mild California winter (rather the opposite of what the Bay Area is unfortunately currently experiencing) may make for a lovely view in wine country, but I’m not sure I’d want to stop at that particular seat… It looks like it has captured more than its share of the dampness of its environs.
Cab drivers told me that November is about as empty as Prague ever gets. I can’t even imagine summer.
The temperature is rising and ice is melting and after the gritty, dirty snow finally vanishes, spring will come to the Adirondacks.
To produce this 24-hour auto-changing desktop, I took pictures on our Lexington, Kentucky cottage’s front porch over the course of a day. Though some changes, like the clouds and sky, I expected, I was more surprised to see the variation in light reflected from the white roof of the porch over the course of the day.
Dawn
Morning
Midday
Afternoon
Dusk
Blue Hour
Night
Is there any better place to be at the end of June than the Adirondacks? A soft carpet of moss and pine needles, a smooth varnished wood bench, and a evening view of Saranac Lake makes a great combination.
The ferry across Lake Champlain is brief—no need for cabins when a few benches will do. The calm of mid-century American design makes the place feel like every other ferry you’ve ever been on.
Cars and bikes waited on the deck below. I rather like the notice about stopping motors and setting brakes above two vehicles for which that isn’t likely to be an issue.
As a youth, I read tales of “wandering islands” on the backs of giant sea creatures. As the fog burned off at Camp Canaras, I couldn’t shake the illusion that the island was drifting closer. (Of course, Saranac Lake might make for a disappointingly small range to wander.)
On a cloudy day, the Cathedral of Learning at the University of Pittsburgh has a softness to its stone exterior. (Its interior, as I’ve shown in the past, is equally stunning.) The sense of scale to the image (and the distortion of the wide-angle lens) can play tricks on your mind, making the whole scene seem smaller than it really is. To get a feel for the imposing/soft contradiction, concentrate on those improbably small revolving doors. They must be human-sized, right?
Snow comes early to the North Country. Nothing quite justifies a cold morning more than waking up to a lovely dusting of snow and flakes in the air. The oak trees are still stubbornly holding onto their leaves, and thus there was a cozy snow-free zone (and a welcoming bench) from which to watch the snow this morning. Johnson Hall of Science looks friendly in all seasons.
The environment changes so completely when it rains that I can’t help but run out with my camera in the moments between storms. Today’s photograph is another from UC Berkeley’s Strawberry Creek on a particularly drizzly day. The contrast between nature and the manicured stone walls works out quite nicely when everything is wet and glistening.
Decaseconds 