HDR Photography
St. Lawrence University’s campus has an “everything the sun touches is your kingdom” vibe—the school extends over almost an entire quadrant of town. Just under the setting sun is the most-frequented version of campus, but it continues to extend over the woods to this oxbow.
I cheekily posted this picture to Instagram with the caption, “Get ready for fall(s),” last weekend, but I have to admit I really am. Photographically, autumn means peak creativity for me in the North Country, including visits to places like this: Lampson Falls.
Threatening storm clouds gathered over campus on the eve of Commencement this year, forcing the event inside… Only for the weather to be sunny and mild the next day. Even access to flying robots can’t fix the chaos of weather prediction.
Spring marks the return of leaves to the trees around the North Country; in the tiny window between snow-covered and leaf-obscured, I get to imagine the story behind this long-abandoned and island-isolated shack. Was it a weekend fishing spot? Was the construction of the nearby bridge what caused it to be abandoned?
Winding against the river current (or the prevailing wind, in my drone’s case), one rounds a bend to find a pool and Lampson Falls in their ring of sunbaked rock and aromatic pine needles.
Strip shopping centers, golf courses, and a Best Western: this stretch of NY Rt. 11 outside Canton differs little from other blocks of America. Still, this road is special… The North Country lacks an interstates whatsoever, so this two-lane blacktop is the only major path through the region. Though the general west-southwest direction of the road wavers little, this particular intersection is a place where it temporarily swings north to pass through town.
The three sides of the pool at the base of Lampson Falls take on drastically different characters: to the north, the fluffy rapids of the falls themselves; to the west, the sandy beach, popular with campers; to the south, the rocky mini-cliff where hikers lay in the sun. A small cluster of people happened to be on each side when I took this picture, providing a sense of scale to the very 3-D space.
Big green fields at the edge of a forest are perhaps not what I normally associate with a college campus, but St. Lawrence University’s barn (technically the Elsa Gunnison Appleton Riding Hall) is indeed on its campus. Though the main halls and dormitories are off in the distance at the right of the image, effectively this entire picture is St. Lawrence’s campus. The perks of being a rural college.
The deep gouge in the landscape that is Stone Valley winds off into the post-sunset, on its way to meet the distant tiny tower.
Rook-esque clouds pillaring the sky on a crisp fall afternoon are one of the treats of living in the northeast, and a drone panorama does a solid job of capturing the effect.
Stone Valley’s sharp river slicing through the fuzzy trees is a good reminder that there are forces far more powerful than photosynthesis sculpting the world we see each day.
St. Lawrence University’s enormous campus includes both the barn and horse fields in the middle-distance and the Kip Trail that leads to it. A stroll through the woods and grassy fields sounds pretty nice in the depths of February.
Flying a drone makes me think a lot about my xyz position in space. Dark stone and glossy water and fuzzy trees seem to occupy orthogonal dimensions: the trees point along the z-axis, the striations in the stone along the y-axis, and the ripples and rapids in the water along the x-axis.
Stone Valley is a hyperreal place at sunset; the effect is a bit different from above but no less magical. The rapids do, I’ll grant, look a bit less steep from up here.
Last summer, Herring-Cole Hall in the foreground received a new roof. They say the building is haunted; I wonder if the ghost appreciated the upgrade?
Decaseconds 