HDR Photography
I had the chance to wander UC Berkeley’s Memorial Stadium when it was nearly empty one Saturday afternoon. The texture of the weathered concrete is so rough and irregular compared with the smooth, almost-glossy metal of the stands themselves. When free of student mass, it makes for a lovely study in perspective.
Muir Woods astonishes and tempers with its beauty, but I had trouble avoiding the feeling that it was all a bit manicured and controlled by man. At first, that disappointed me. When I thought back to some of the gorgeous Zen gardens I’ve visited, however, I realized that curated natural beauty can be just as spectacular and authentic as true wilderness. The gentle drizzle between sequoias and down into the creek is the American version of the Zen garden.
During my recent trip to Muir Woods I couldn’t help but notice all of the ferns. They make up the most of the backdrop, coming in all shapes and sizes. They always remind me of home, and I’ve always found the combinations of very green leaves and brown, almost red, underbrush visually appealing.
The beautiful, shiny, new Energy Biosciences Building in downtown Berkeley is a truly fantastic place to do science. Not only does it have some of the most gorgeous labs I’ve ever seen (with lots of great natural light), it also has meeting/lunch areas like these that do a ton to support the collaborative mindset that is so critical to good science. I wanted to do a multi-shot post today, descending from this glossy surface with its view of the Berkeley skyline (such as it is) down into the bowels of the center.
For many of the biologists working here, the real science is happening down in the basement. Here, mutant and wildtype plants are growing in this incubator to a size where they can be cheerful participants in biofuel experiments.
And the really cool shot from just around the corner: seeds that have just sprouted, growing to a size that they can be planted in soil. From what my charming guide told me, many of these are randomly mutated seeds, and they’re being screened in this media to determine if any have the correct mutation for further experimentation. Behind this example, you can see numerous other sets, merrily growing away. (Or not, if they have this particular mutation.)
There is something very odd about finding frost on driftwood, or finding a beach covered in frost. The pitting on this particular bit of driftwood, combined with the frost gives an impression of some sort of alien terrain or alien life-form.
Not far from Muir Woods, the Pacific coast cliffs of California are a starker, steeper, and foggier place than I expected. The nearly sheer cliff face, the scraggly trees hanging on for dear life, and the weather- (and person-) beaten railings make the whole place feel mythical. The fog density hit just the right soupiness on this particular day; we could just barely see and hear the waves crashing on the rocks below.
On a jet high over central Brazil, the cropped, divided, and cultivated land has a strange organge and purple color to it. Some fields are the broad circles of modern irrigation equipment, while others are odd heptagons nestled next to rivers and streams. From above, the landscape is alien. As an awesome side-note on Brazilian airlines: checking luggage is free and encouraged (so the overhead bins are empty), the airlines serve ham and cheese sandwiches instead of pretzels, and no one speaks a word of English.
Ok so you can’t fly fish in it but this stream that runs through Muir Woods National Monument really helps set the peaceful mood of the park.
Up here in the Berkeley Hills, the entire Bay Area stretches out on a clear day. In the distance is Piedmont and the Oakland Airport, but I particularly engage with the sense of scale that the preposterously-steep fire trail adds to the image. There’s a space for humans in the sprawl of the East Bay.
The bay area is notable for its gentle climate but this is never more true than during the spring. Even Berkeley is full of color, with flowers everywhere. These flowers were just hanging out on the sidewalk.
Another in my ongoing series of sand castle photographs (see I, II, and III), this shot comes from the gorgeous coast of southern Brazil. While everyone else is off playing in the surf, these two boys stayed behind on the beach to construct this complex of truly epic sand castles. (That sand castles are as wondrous and short-lived as childhood is perhaps too trite a metaphor for me to acknowledge in any way beyond the parenthetical.) I just love the universality of building sand castles on the beach–from the east coast to the west, and the from the northern hemisphere to the south, it’s a worldwide past time.
Early in the morning, Muir Woods is still quiet as the first hikers gear up. This picture really conveys the difference in scale between the people and the enormous sequoias of the park. (I liked it so much, I had to sneak it up on a Saturday.)
A barn in the Northeast is a place of shelter and respite from frost and storms and snow. In the gorgeous Southwest, on the other hand, the barn is a gorgeous, open place with palm trees and big stalls.
As a child, I held on to the fantasy of discovering a secret island all my own–one stocked with secret forts and pirate treasure and relaxing fishing spots. During our trip to Brazil last fall, I was entranced by the rocky but just-the-right-sized islands off the coast of Florianopolis. If I could have only gotten out there, I know pirate treasure awaited me.
On the recent trip to Muir woods we took a trip over to an old coastal battery turned park overlooking the ocean. Well, not much really overlooks the coast on a foggy morning like this. It sort of makes one wonder how effective these overlooks were, at least early in the morning. Almost makes you wonder what’s hiding out there in the fog.
Even if it is more Silent Hill than Far Cry the view is a neat one.
Decaseconds 