HDR Photography
More than any of the other Traverse City fireworks shots I’ve presented so far, I think this one captures the essence of summer: little Lake Michigan waves lapping at the shore, soft beaches, boats moored to piers, and the pair of people relaxing on the rocks in the foreground. They’re the most intriguing part of the image, to me: when everyone else is looking to the sky, what is interesting them more than the fireworks?
While a telephoto view of fireworks and people can place the pair on even scale, the opposite—a wide-angle view that places the aforementioned pair in context—makes apparent just how small they are on the scale of the Earth.
Fireworks above the Grand Traverse Bay, as viewed from the piers. The true scale of fireworks becomes apparent when a long lens positions the explosions and the people closer together.
The school year has started and now summer travels are memories. The fuzzy, insubstantial people of this long-exposure photograph kind of match the feeling of fading reminiscences.
An early-evening flight into Chicago puts the setting sun behind the skyline along Lake Michigan, reflecting silhouettes from the placid surface.
On Earth Day, I really like the image of the next generation, growing up in nature under the shelter of elders.
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.
I mentioned in Monday’s post that I find structures built over water to be oddly cozy, and this dock and boathouse on a rainy late spring evening conveys the same kind of feeling.
The “S.L.U.” on this life preserver is a good reminder that St. Lawrence University runs Camp Canaras. Still, I’m not sure it was too necessary on this chilly spring night—Lake Saranac was not overly populated.
The little sailboats might have been in the water of Saranac Lake in the late spring, but the Adirondack weather was not convincing anyone to head out into the evening with one.
Glowing embers rising from the chimney of a cozy cabin may look charming, but I can’t recommend it. Cabins tend to be less cozy when the roof is on fire.
The temperature is rising and ice is melting and after the gritty, dirty snow finally vanishes, spring will come to the Adirondacks.
There’s a warm comfort to a camp office, center of order and structure, on a cold early summer evening.
Fall may have officially begun, but the warm weather seems to contradict the calendar. I’m left wondering… When will the boats be pulled out and never returned to the lakes of the Adirondacks in 2019?
Is there any better place to be at the end of June than the Adirondacks? A soft carpet of moss and pine needles, a smooth varnished wood bench, and a evening view of Saranac Lake makes a great combination.
Decaseconds 