A summer sensory triptych: Warm sand, warm breeze, and warm colors from the July 4th fireworks.
The enormous Margaux Farm seems, like some equestrian Jurassic Park, to stretch from one horizon to the other.
A drone shot of the Cascade Diner (and its subterranean partner, the Buccaneer Lounge) reveals the reason for the institution’s name.
Spending Independence Day in Traverse City, Michigan meant experiencing the TC Boom Boom Club’s (yes, really) annual fireworks display from the beach of the Grand Traverse Bay. Before they began, however, the families on the beach were making their own shows.
Evening at the end of November, dinner on the river is charming… But I can only imagine the experience in May.
The buildings of Prague at dusk have a warm glow that I think the HDR technique captures perfectly.
As the evening grows chilly, is anything more welcoming than a Bohemian café?
On Earth Day, I really like the image of the next generation, growing up in nature under the shelter of elders.
At the northern end of Trinity College’s Long Walk is the Dean’s Office. On a warm summer evening ‘neath the elms, however, it’s less an intimidation and more a charmer alongside the rest of the red stone structure.
The main lodge of St. Lawrence’s Camp Canaras so often seems to be abandoned after dinner for the cabins, libraries, and boat houses. In the current times, my brain reads the setting as just a bit apocalyptic.
The temperature is rising and ice is melting and after the gritty, dirty snow finally vanishes, spring will come to the Adirondacks.
The staircase up to Prague Castle will literally take your breath away, and not only with the view that is available if you lift your eyes from the steps to look over Lesser Town. That wall of gold in the distance is made of building facades on the Vltava River.
Nights may have turned cold and the first leaves have lost chlorophyll to turn gold, but fields are still filled with crops today—the Autumnal Equinox.
My favorite part of a huge cityscape view is the way the tiny details of buildings (windows, lights, roofs) slowly become less and less distinct as you look farther away. I was inspired to get a “real” camera all those years ago in part from a desire to takes pictures that gave the viewer a feeling of being able to “zoom forever” and always see more detail.
The incredible architecture of Berkeley Lab, like the Molecular Foundry hanging out into the space of Strawberry Canyon, is implanted into an otherwise natural setting. In that sense, being there reminded me of a sort of real-world Jurassic Park. (The flocks of turkeys and herds of goats on the grounds were a bit less threatening than dinosaurs, thankfully. The mountain lions were a different story…)
November afternoons end quickly—close to the winter solstice, the sun disappears while the day is still “young”. Notre Dame’s pre-fire spire looks so calm next to the pastel clouds.