HDR Photography
Fall in the North Country makes dramatic skies and shadows. What I’ll call “drivewayhenge” aligned the sun precisely with this driveway, allowing for much of the scene to be in shadow while the garage at the end is a glowing beacon. In typical North Country fashion, that garage is a Millenium Falcon of useful modifications.
Friday marked the end of exams, and students and faculty alike celebrated by checking canoes and kayaks out of this little boat house on St. Lawrence’s campus. (If it’s true that our school resembles a ski resort in the winter, it also resembles a summer camp during the warmer months of the year.) Nothing really says the year is done (and grading with it) like floating along in complete relaxation.
In this particular corner of Connecticut in early spring, the rain and snow combined to make the perfect storybook fog. This image is so quaint and charming, I could swear I’d seen it somewhere before.
But this brings me to another idea: those particular locations in landscape photography so scenic that they are literally ubiquitous. Take the tunnel view in Yosemite, or shots of the Golden Gate Bridge from the Marin Headlands, or downtown Manhattan as seen from the top of Rockafeller Center as examples: is it even possible to make an original composition from such a photographically saturated place? But these places are also photographically saturated for a reason: they’re really, really pretty. Where does that trade-off between originality and beauty fall?
A quaint home, encrusted in snow and accompanied by a Subaru and a stand of pines, makes for a perfect slice of North Country life. Today’s winter storm brought this image back to my mind.
The North Country is carpeted in snow (not shown). I like to think back to the lazy, shoveling-free fall days when homes were just beginning to mystically gird themselves for the oncoming blizzard. Life merrily passes by these old, modest homes.
The North Country is green and lush at this moment, but it’s worthwhile to look back on the recently-thawed saltscape that was spring. I still feel a certain sense of amazement at the number of fierce winters homes like this have survived.
There’s something about a red sky and an abandoned house that seems creepy and Halloween-esque, even when it’s April. Maybe it’s another case of Canton’s Lynchian vibes.
Red fruit makes me nervous. (Perhaps one too many lectures about not eating red berries as a child?) In any case, the combination of overwhelming red fruit, dark clouds, and a dilapidated garage make me just a wee bit uneasy.
I dream of the perfect vacation house, nestled on the shores of some lonely Adirondack lake and stocked with just the right combination of boats and brews and firewood. I project this dream onto this unassuming cabin and its charming beach, nestled on the shore of Mirror Lake.
Having moved away from Berkeley, certain details of life in the quasi-city become more and more unbelievable. This particular abode seems to have been plucked from the pages of a fairy tale.
Berkeley is an eclectic, bizarre place to look at homes. This particular alleyway, with its Middle-Earth-esque Old-World charm, it less than a block from UCB’s campus.
Today’s post comes courtesy of Colin Hill.
The last hints of unseasonable spring snow grace the ground, and the gently curving roads of the Berkshires make an amateur racetrack for the teenagers of the town.
The quintessential New England home, decorated for the holidays and accessorized with a light dusting of snow. I can imagine Calvin and Hobbes wandering around in the backyard forest, having adventures and causing trouble before they’re called in for dinner.
This week, a massive snow and ice storm smashed the Northeast. As night fell, so did the snow. Across the street, with the wind blasting the fresh snow into weird drifts, this home looked particularly inviting.
Near Berkeley’s chemistry department are the faculty clubs. (Don’t get me started on why there is both a “Faculty Club” and a “Women’s Faculty Club.”) In any case, this lovely redwood log cabin is part of the complex. The tones of the redwood and the green roof tiles gives the picture a hint of holiday feel.
Decaseconds 