HDR Photography
There’s something magnificent about the views around Vancouver of the hills and the water. There’s something even more amazing about those same views around sunset when the sky just absolutely fills with color. For these reasons, among others, Vancouver’s got to be one of my favorite places on this planet.
That and if you walk around long enough you start to recognize locales featured in MacGyver.
Foggy, miserable mornings in Berkeley are the perfect time to reminisce about the perfect Atlantic views of southern Brazil. Standing high up on the succulent-shrouded cliffs, the azure waves crashing below, the start of an afternoon storm blowing across the water, puts life in perspective.
Back to lovely, bucolic central Oregon. Something about an active field, with the pines and the farmhouse in the distance, mixes with the moon above to convey a sense of “a hard day’s work.” If it were a painting, I’d call it “Western Art.”
In the summer, the Berkeley fire trails become dry and brown. For years, the best part of wandering along those trails is reaching this little evergreen grove on a hill above the dry grass and dirt. Mist from passing clouds leaves droplets of water throughout it, and for a moment, I imagine that I’m riding an island in that sea of grass.
Out in rural Vermont, down the road from where I took this photo, is the farm of Vermont Ponies. Though they have a bit of barn space, the majority of the farm is paddocks on grassy hillsides like the one you see here. When a storm is brewing (as it was on this muggy June afternoon) or snow is fall (as it definitely wasn’t), the ponies have run-in sheds like the one on the left side of the picture, where they can find some shelter from the weather. (And of course, some food, too.)
In between the bouts of rain, we slipped up to wine country this weekend. Autumn is in full swing, and the fields of grape vines have turned to the perfect combination of reds and golds. It’s easy to get lost in those vines, for just a moment, until I popped my head up and took this picture. Across the sea of color, you can catch the hints of other vineyards and hills dotting the countryside.
This bucolic hillside in Corvallis, OR is a special sight. In the rolling heartland of the state, the grass seed harvest happens for only a couple of weeks out of the whole year. I’ve previously posted other shots from the broad hills and valleys of this area, but I particularly like the interplay between the orange of the sky and the pink of the clouds as sunset creeps in.
Everything is parked, arrayed, and prepared in precisely the right position for maximum efficiency. This might not really be the case, but when I stare through the airport glass, I see a ballet of criss-crossing tools and machines harnessed for travel.
The midwest is a flat region, but the true two-dimensionality doesn’t hit you until you until you see the region from above. The tallest things for miles around will be water towers. Each town’s tower marks it, like a piece on the world’s most beige chessboard. Still, they have a certain beauty in the evening.
Evening is finally rolling around, low tide has rendered the waves gentle, and the beach is pockmarked by the day’s footprints. If you let yourself get lost in the sky and the mild surf, the sights of people disappear and the mind wanders into the sea.
This little canyon ends at the beach, and its miniature stream flows back and forth with the tides. On this particular evening, it was starting to rain as the sun set through the clouds. The beach was abandoned, and whole scene felt post-apocalyptic.
Tower cranes are, without question, the coolest pieces of modern construction equipment. In order to reach these heights, the cranes actually lift and build themselves! This particular crane is working on building the replacement to Campbell Hall (which we’ve previously photographed being demolished.) On this particular morning, the clouds aligned in just the right way with the arc of the crane and produced this composition.
Today’s photo, taken just as the rain started to pick up in the Marin Headlands, is one of my favorites. The alignment of this little bridge to the Golden Gate itself, the harbor, the construction equipment, with Angel Island and the rest of the North Bay off in the distance: it all provides a sense of scale and perspective. The way the warm sodium lamps contrast with the colors of the evening bring your eye to the bridge and its gorgeous structural steel. Rigid geometries contrast with the fuzzy plants of the hillside. This is a picture I want to crawl inside.
Usually, Brendan has a monopoly on gorgeous scenery from the Seattle area, but today I get to show you my version. Here, we see the sun setting over the rooftops of Burien. To the left, the Puget Sound peaks through the trees. I love the sense of depth and scale provided by the roofs as they climb the distant hill.
California in the summer–always sunny, never a cloud in the sky… And on the east coast (Vermont, in this case), I was instead buffeted by massive, overpowering storms. That refreshing summer storm feeling, and the mountaintop views that go with them, make me a bit nostalgic.
Decaseconds 