HDR Photography
Can you spot the tiny figures at the top of the hill? I’m confident that tiny figures produce a sense of grand scale in images—particular desert shots, like this one, where the inhuman nature of the place can make understanding the sizes of objects difficult. Nonetheless, I find myself wondering how small the figures in an image can be before the viewer loses the ability to recognize them as human.
The view from the aircraft window while departing Dublin Aiport was quintessentially Irish on this particular morning.
Coachella Valley is a desert that was once home to a lake, so careful management of water—both where it should go, and where it shouldn’t—leads to some fascinating human-engineered structures. I like this image for the sense of depth, but also for the way that the unmodified hills rise above the human-produced forms in the fore- and mid-ground.
My favorite images are those that contrast (apparently) natural and human-populated places. Escaping all of the noise of the holidays to a hike in the desert has a certain appeal at this time of year.
Nothing makes the incredible scale of a western landscape apparent like some tiny people navigating the scene.
The solar array from last week’s post can just be seen between the trees near the medium-sized pond in the center of today’s picture. This image provides a much better feel for the homestead setting and the love autumn colors decorating it.
Nearly the entire territory of Margaux has been adjusted (terraformed, if you will) to serve its equestrian focus. I appreciate, however, the more pleasing, smooth shapes to the roads and paddocks, in the place of the grid system that might have otherwise been manifest.
When our wagon last appeared on Decaseconds, I was celebrating 200,000 miles on the odometer. While there may be several thousand more miles on the clock now, it remains a great vehicle for photographic adventures.
Some titles speak for themselves. I wonder how long it takes to repaint all of this fencing?
Fall brings both fantastic foliage and dramatic sunsets to the North Country; my favorite evenings are those in which the hues of the the sky and the leaves match the red brick of St. Lawrence University’s Richardson Hall.
A sunset Christmas Eve drive through the less-inhabited parts of Coachella Valley has to end eventually. The palm trees mark the seconds of the drive back into town.
Everything the sun touches is Margaux Farm. This red-roofed barn in the foreground is but one example; look off into the distance and count how many additional structures appear with a matching color scheme.
While other cows in this field were hanging out in a herd together, this loner was keeping the Sun company.
Brush and tire tracks in the North Palm Springs desert look extra-tiny beneath the enormous Christmas Eve clouds.
The iconic arrays of white wind turbines at the northern end of Coachella Valley scatter whatever color of light is available—quite a blue situation as the sunset fades over the mountains.
Decaseconds 