When an afternoon of riding at Fox Rust has finished, it’s back to the barn (in the distance), accompanied by a barn cat escort.
Views like this one, capturing the marine layer rolling across the San Francisco Bay towards the Port of Oakland, are the kind that first attracted me to photography. I took this picture nearly four years ago, during my sabbatical to the Bay Area, when I was still shooting with my Nikon D7000 (already antiquated tech in 2017); I can’t want to be able to safely revisit Berkeley’s Grizzly Peak to capture more cityscapes with my new Sony a7R IV.
Chicagoland’s nearly 2D topography and nineteenth-century population boom conspired to make for a remarkably uniform grid of structures and roads. Even the water that might “go rogue” in another setting is often confined to the grid.
Where Illinois meets Lake Michigan, a sunny winter afternoon makes a natural instance of the “classic” orange and teal look.
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?
Cab drivers told me that November is about as empty as Prague ever gets. I can’t even imagine summer.
The Vltava River turns every cityscape of Prague Castle into a dramatic set of reflections.
Looking onto the scene from the Charles Bridge, those reflections seem to be all around.
Prague’s Old Town has maintained a lot of its historic character (in part due to surviving WWII relatively unscathed), but that means that modern vehicle and pedestrian traffic are folded in on top of one another.
The tiiiiiny pack of runners in the distance marks the scale of the forest trails on St. Lawrence University’s campus.
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.
With the evening sky reflected in the water, this island in Saranac Lake appears to float like a fuzzy green saucer.
St. Lawrence University’s Camp Canaras is a heterogeneous collection of cabins along the shore of Saranac Lake. Among them, this particular building’s stack of individually glazed windows and roofs at odd angles most reminds me of Howl’s Moving Castle.
The temperature is rising and ice is melting and after the gritty, dirty snow finally vanishes, spring will come to the Adirondacks.