HDR Photography
The quad between St. Lawrence University’s Gunnison Memorial Chapel and Kirk Douglas Hall is a center of activity after 4:00. That also often coincides with the drone photographer’s favorite moment when only the treetops remain bright, while the pathways and grassy places fall into cool shadows.
With the influx of new cars associated with St. Lawrence University’s Family Weekend, even the sometimes-empty outer lots fill up with unfamiliar vehicles.
Rows and rows and rows of folding chairs bookend the school year: once in the fall for matriculation, and once in the spring for commencement. Their symmetry overlaps the now-permanent paths that once began as desire paths across the quad.
I’ve taken many pictures of St. Lawrence University’s Johnson Hall, particularly at night—its sheer glass face looks particularly stunning when fully illuminated. After years at the school, I’ve realized the degree to which those pictures have aged; the trees outside no longer take the same form and the whole setting of the structure is now. After more than five years at St. Lawrence, perhaps I need to begin revisiting other structures, too.
Though we may officially have a couple more weeks, summer has practically ended when schools resume. St. Lawrence University’s campus is buzzing with students and faculty at all hours of the day and night.
Now can we please be done with the summer weather? Bring on fall.
After a day of rain, the clouds peeled back around sunset to reveal the foothills of the Adirondacks to the south. This bucolic landscape (on the right side of the image) is actually the eastern reach of St. Lawrence University’s 1,000-acre campus.
Years have passed since I last stood before the central edifice of Trinity College’s Long Walk, Northam Hall (and even longer since I lived there.) Twelve years later, many things have changed about me but this building has remained remarkably static.
Soft evening light scattering through the trees of town brings out a dreamlike quality in Canton. Though it may be filled with humans, my imagination adds in a few nymphs, wood elves, pixies, and miscellaneous spirits.
This quad isn’t very much of a quardrangle, from a geometric standpoint, but that doesn’t stop students and visiting campers from having an absolutely delightful afternoon there.
I’ve often commented to curious colleagues that the benefit of drone photography is the ability to get images from that “impossible” space: lower than a helicopter or other light aircraft might dare fly, but higher than a photographer could reach with a cherry picker. Those are views that can only be had from building height, and so a drone let’s one (metaphorically) put a temporary building wherever they’d like, at least for photographic purposes.
I’m evidently not obeying that rule here, nearly 400 feet above St. Lawrence University’s sylvan campus. It’s from this height where the taper of from larger halls down to smaller dorms and townhouses, and then ultimately to wooded space at the eastern edge of campus, is visible.
Summer research students at St. Lawrence have reached the halfway point (chronologically) of their projects, and the wildest (read: hottest) weather of the summer is coming along with it. At times like that, looking back on (and forward to) the cooler fall weather is a respite.
The long winter seems long behind us and campus is lush with flowering trees and grass carpets. Brush Quad, situated between St. Lawrence University’s oldest building (Richardson Hall) and its newest (Kirk Douglas Hall), looks particularly welcoming.
This weekend marked the first truly warm days (i.e. spring) after a long winter, and there’s not long now until St. Lawrence’s students graduate on that sunset-lit quad at the center of the image.
Good landscape photography advice: take your pictures from the top of the second tallest structure (or drone) around and let the tallest structure (like St. Lawrence’s Gunnison Chapel) cross the horizon.
I’ve previously compared the feel of St. Lawrence University’s campus in the winter to a ski resort missing its ski slopes; even from the air, the miniature snow city effect holds. Though I’m not sure I can explain the particular magic of this image, it currently holds the record has the most-liked picture on St. Lawrence’s Instagram. Perhaps it’s the glow of the setting sun on the buildings?
Decaseconds 