HDR Photography
I’ve taken many pictures of St. Lawrence University’s Johnson Hall, particularly at night—its sheer glass face looks particularly stunning when fully illuminated. After years at the school, I’ve realized the degree to which those pictures have aged; the trees outside no longer take the same form and the whole setting of the structure is now. After more than five years at St. Lawrence, perhaps I need to begin revisiting other structures, too.
Where sunset tapers into the rest of the sky—or when a sunset is so complete and overwhelming that the whole sky is transformed—there are interesting patterns to be found in the northwestern and southwestern edge. The evening of this image over Canton, New York, the result seemed particularly reminiscent of some Renaissance painting.
Yesterday, a Canton native unironically told me, “Winter is coming.” When it arrives, the town works team will deploy from this location to tackle snow with special forces precision. Northern New York does not mess around.
Park Street is the residential/academic (i.e. St.-Lawrence-housing) street orthogonal to Canton, New York’s Main Street. As night falls, the cozy pinpoint lights of individual homes is contrasted by the broad glow of the streetlights on those biggest avenues.
Lexington’s Kentucky Horse Park seems to have more than its fair share of great sunsets; I wonder whether the primary residents (the horses) appreciate them? Scientific evidence would suggest not quite to the same degree (horses see fewer colors than people.)
Though we may officially have a couple more weeks, summer has practically ended when schools resume. St. Lawrence University’s campus is buzzing with students and faculty at all hours of the day and night.
Now can we please be done with the summer weather? Bring on fall.
Summer in Kentucky is the stuff of country music songs and Hunter S. Thompson essays. This pair of images captures a Bourbon-y taste of that humid, breezy life.
The smooth, iterative patterns of rolling Utah hills are only occasionally interrupted by the cubic forms of little homesteads. I happened to be rolling down the Interstate at just the right moment to catch this house peaking out from the shadow of the nearby hill into the morning light.
These miniature dirt bikes are absolutely ubiquitous at Kentucky Horse Park as easy runabouts when a “full-sized” golf cart would be overkill. (And yes, I appreciate the humor that a tiny golf-cart is the three-row SUV of the horse world.)
Even these tiny bikes are more commonly seen with two riders—particularly in the vicinity of the snack bar.
Passengers are invaluable for coffee-handling duties.
Helmets, mandatory when on horseback, are evidently not à la mode for minibikes.
I finally finished processing the photographs of the transcontinental drive, transient spectroscopy, and Transamerica pyramid that made up my 2017 sabbatical from St. Lawrence University to Berkeley Lab for solar energy research. Check out my favorites, in handy chronological order, by clicking on the image of Alcatraz and the Golden Gate Bridge below:
After a day of rain, the clouds peeled back around sunset to reveal the foothills of the Adirondacks to the south. This bucolic landscape (on the right side of the image) is actually the eastern reach of St. Lawrence University’s 1,000-acre campus.
Years have passed since I last stood before the central edifice of Trinity College’s Long Walk, Northam Hall (and even longer since I lived there.) Twelve years later, many things have changed about me but this building has remained remarkably static.
In the foothills of the Adirondacks, the Raquette River was dammed for hydroelectric power. The town of Colton, New York sits on the resulting reservoir; the rapids in the foreground are the beginning of Stone Valley, an area of trails that I’ve photographed extensively in the past. The contrast between placid reflections in the reservoir and the dark currents of the river proper stand out during the blue hour.
Heavy traffic isn’t restricted to city centers! This summer, Canton’s bridge over the Grasse river is being repaired, cutting it from four lanes to two. Around 8:00, 12:00, and 4:00, traffic backs up for half a mile down Main Street. (But I’d rather the traffic than skipping the bridge repairs…)
Soft evening light scattering through the trees of town brings out a dreamlike quality in Canton. Though it may be filled with humans, my imagination adds in a few nymphs, wood elves, pixies, and miscellaneous spirits.
Decaseconds 