HDR Photography
I was semi-impressed to see the pigeons waiting patiently far away from this lunch-enjoyer in Amsterdam, but then I saw the green writing as his feet. While I’m sure that simple graffiti or utility markings are the true meaning of the lines, I like to imagine instead that they represent some kind of arcane invocation that protects his sandwich from avian interference.
Warm, welcoming, and… monolithic? Though Mohonk is a huge, castle-esque structure, the hotel nonetheless feels deeply cozy in the evening. Perhaps it’s the sense of life about it. Zoom all the way in and people are visible, enjoying the warm air on the many balconies.
Atop forested cliffs, the view to the porch and dock of Mohonk Mountain House has a “child’s treehouse” quality that matches well with the magical feeling of the place.
Fall may have officially begun, but the warm weather seems to contradict the calendar. I’m left wondering… When will the boats be pulled out and never returned to the lakes of the Adirondacks in 2019?
Though I’m sure both the homes and the boats of Tiburon cost dearly for their charming setting, it’s easy to forget all of that when the sun is going down and a cool breeze is blowing in the from the San Francisco Bay. That little gray house in the middle with all of the little extra architectural details is my favorite.
After a week doing science on a hilltop, I would sometimes sneak out of work just a minute early* and head across the Bay to Tiburon to watch the Corinthian Yacht Club’s Friday night sailboat racing. The lack of spinnakers implies to me that it’s a pretty friendly race, but it’s nonetheless a great way to end the workweek.
*Though early by my standards is “regular” to most folks, I suspect.
A fair, complete with Ferris wheel, alongside the river in Portland Oregon is just the thing to post on the first day of the Spring Semester back at St. Lawrence University. As I trudged through snow to get down to business, the memories of warm sabbatical nights last year were inescapable.
The view of the Seattle’s skyline from across the harbor always gives me the warm and fuzzies.
I wonder if the people that live on these houseboats feel like MacGyver.
Camp Canaras has some remarkable views during day and night, but especially in the morning. There’s a weird collision of action-movie-preparation scene with rustic vibe to a boathouse; the scene captures the sense of possibility for the rest of the day.
Nostalgia views the world from a distance but with specific acuity. A view from Grizzly Peak of the Berkeley Marina might look like a warm, buzzy vision of NorCal, but with my own memories I attribute specific instances and moments to every aspect of the landscape: Kites flying over Caesar Chavez Park. Stories of a ferry to San Francisco that once ran from the decaying jetty. Learning to sail on the tiny boats on the “left” side of the peninsula. Sailing from the Marina to Angel Island, crewing a professor’s 40-foot sailboat. Finding a place to live, driving up and down University Ave. from the hotel to the hills. Crossing the highway on the bicycle bridge for a long, flat, sunny ride along the shore. All of that experience is encoded into the image, but I’ll always be the only person with the key to decrypt it.
Continuing the Marin Headlands bombardment, today’s photograph shows the northern approach to the Golden Gate Bridge with Angel Island in the background. This was also my first attempt at post-processing to simulate the use of a tilt-shift lens, which produces the illusion of a miniature reality. I think it works quite nicely here to give the bridge a feeling of being part of a model railroad set.
Decaseconds 