HDR Photography
St. Lawrence University’s Herring-Cole Grove (a.k.a. the “Enchanted Forest”) in autumn is flush with golden leaves that carpet the ground and frame the sky; this makes the perfect compliment to the Gunnison Memorial Chapel from which these two just exited. I can’t help but be grandiose when remembering a day like this one.
This fall, I photographed my first wedding. When the wedding ceremony has finished, and the speeches had been made, the reception/party got into full swing. I’m particularly charmed by the way the flash lights up both the bride’s dress and the label of the Champagne in a room otherwise dominated by warm, earthy colors.
Photographs with late-model cars and trucks have always been an odd challenge to my photography; they tend to appear as ugly, pedestrian chunks that I try to avoid in otherwise charming scenes. (The world has enough documentation of Toyota Corollas and Ford F-150s.) However, when I look back on old photographs from the mid-twentieth century, it’s inevitably the cars and the clothes of the past that are the most charming aspects. The common-car-filled images that I capture in the present must be a sort of investment; the boring cars of today will make this image a classic document of everyday life in 30 years.
The New Year is here, and real winter has arrived along with it! Snow flies through the air and ice clings to the branches and sticks of the North Country.
Happy Holidays from Decaseconds! Piper’s wearing her Christmas plaid and looking fresh.
And a final shot of me riding Flapjack, a pretty awesome pony. (Though I’m out of focus, I think the center of attention is just where it needs to be: firmly centered on Flapjack.)
A driving range isn’t complete without a car husk at 200 yards. There’s some sort of great driving/driving range pun to be made here.
The Club has two jobs: one part family-friendly restaurant for the community, and one part standard bar. I’m just sad that they stopped having Newcastle on tap.
In most of North American, a lawn of short grass has no business being near enormous, deciduous trees; this particular image matches an afternoon of improbably sunlight with that preposterous botanical mix.
I couldn’t resist just one more image from the foothills of the Adirondacks in this weird, gentle fall. The bright blotches of birch branches (I couldn’t help myself) and their attendant leaves stand in contrast to the mechanical, industrial aspects of the scene.
There’s a tiny (abandoned?) cabin in the woods of this scruffy, autumn-inflected island. This fall has been warm and dry, the Sun bakes the glacier-cut stones, and the water is already cold. In this environment, I can’t help but imagine escaping to a little cabin of my own.
“Downtown” has a very different meaning in a small town. I love the repeating pattern in the second-floor windows of the buildings. Bright reds and blues will soon be covered with snow, but then perhaps I’ll take this same shot again.
Altweibersommer has struck the North Country, with warm afternoons reaching shirtsleeves weather and the Sun bakes the linear forms of railroad tracks and dry branches. A local man walks his dog by the modern metal forms of feed silos.
Fall in the North Country makes dramatic skies and shadows. What I’ll call “drivewayhenge” aligned the sun precisely with this driveway, allowing for much of the scene to be in shadow while the garage at the end is a glowing beacon. In typical North Country fashion, that garage is a Millenium Falcon of useful modifications.
This photograph of the newly restored steeple of St. Lawrence’s Gunnison Chapel captures the Lazarus effect of seeing it return. I swung the camera to the setting sun, and I really like the way it cast a range of hues and structures over the image.
Decaseconds 