HDR Photography
A weird spate of “Bay Area weather”—cloudy and rainy in the morning, bright and sunny in the afternoon, chilly but not cold—has brought moments like these, picnicking on the grounds of the Legion of Honor in San Francisco, back to my mind.
Fullersburg Woods was the location where I captured some of my earliest Decaseconds posts (all the way back to December 27, 2011!); it was a delight to revisit the location after the nature preserve has been completely restored to the oak savanna ecosystem it originally exhibited.
When it’s time to take the family fishing on Lake Mohonk, one rowboat will do.
The Bombay Beach Ruins is a sculpture garden on the shallow shores of the Salton Sea, and this particular swing is the site of some of my favorite pictures—but the gradual evaporation of the sea has stranded a symbol of whimsy and magic on the beach as, well, just a regular swing now.
An excellent sunset, somewhere over Texas.
Happy Thanksgiving from Decaseconds and from lovely Bushnell Park.
Boaters can’t swim across the lake (without checking with a guard first) and boaters can’t enter the swimming area, but they interact across a thin membrane of ropes and floats. Look at that log, moored perpendicular to the floating platform on the right; it splits the difference between the boat/swim categories.
A whole vineyard is nestled into a horseshoe bend in the South Elkhorn Creek outside Midway, Kentucky.
This kind of image—period vehicles, strange race-prepped Miatas, everyday clothing, a pleasing landscape setting—is the sort that I anticipate I’ll be most interested to return to in 50 years. Capturing the experience of the end of the day at MiataCon crisply, telling the most about the space and the moment.
Lime Rock Park is a classic racing circuit among the rolling hills of northwestern Connecticut; while each of these components is visually compelling, I’m still working at finding the right way to combine the two different scales into a single image that captures the experience.
At Connecticut’s oldest still-active polo grounds, two cozy teams of amateur polo players clashed on what was once a hay field. With the old barn in the background, the image almost feels like it could be happening at any moment in the past hundred years.
After the rain had passed over Madeira School, the view of the Potomac running through Mather Gorge opened up between the trees.
After our redeye flight from Madrid to New York turned around halfway over the Atlantic due to mechanical issues, I’ve never been so happy to see sunrise on dry land.
Somewhere high above Texas (I’m sure a local could recognize the town from the shape of the river), the sun went down and the lights of the villages turned on.
In December, our transatlantic flight to New York turning back near Greenland, spending hours in the air with an unknown mechanical error for returning us to the Madrid-Barajas Airport. After an all-too-brief but restless night in a mediocre Spanish hotel, we were back at the airport early the next morning for a second (and ultimately successful) attempt at an Atlantic crossing. Several hundred people waited to board. I looked out at the horizon; the landscape was strange, alien, surreal, but ultimately a lot more welcoming than the cold dark of the North Atlantic. The image will stay with me.
Decaseconds 