HDR Photography
A full-scale fireworks display is usually “far away”—over a park or a body of water, perhaps. When St. Lawrence University puts on a fireworks show for graduation, however, the fireworks are right on campus. Imagine watching that show from your dorm-room window!
Fireworks are lovely displays of chemistry and physics in action on their own, of course, but there’s an extra dimension of enjoyment from being part of a crowd and feeling the shared excitement.
Congratulations to St. Lawrence University’s Class of 2022, who graduated yesterday. Celebrations on campus included this fireworks display. Huge arcs of chemical light across the sky look particularly appropriate over Johnson Hall—the chemistry (and biology) building.
Walking home through the blue hour at the height of spring, the momentarily deserted campus made me feel as though I’d passed into some alternate fey dimension—as though I might emerge at some radically different position in time or space.
A poster of Caspar David Friedrich’s “Wanderer above the Sea of Fog” hung above my bed in college, and I’ve since then developed a love of Rückenfiguren in images. Building from my last post’s theme of self-portraiture, I thought using myself as the POV for an image in Stone Valley might add the right German Romantic vibe.
I don’t often do self-portraits, but the stubble-and-canvas textures of this particular evening really stuck with me.
The first organisms to shift and adapt to a new season have always seemed to me like its harbingers. Here in the North Country, I’m noticing the first buds appearing on the maple trees—several weeks after their sap was harvested to make some delicious New York maple syrup—but back in the autumn, those same trees were the first to display their autumn foliage.
Earlier this week, I posted an image that used long exposure to contrast textures in a landscape. This image achieves a similar goal, but perhaps with even more drama and structure. The oblique lighting from the blue-hour sky exaggerates the sheets of stone that have been thrust forth from the Earth.
Rough rocks, fuzzy trees, and long-exposure-smoothed water make this a North Country texture combo platter.
This is one of those images that’s definitely worth clicking through to view at full size. The rough surfaces of rocks, moss, and pine needles contrast so effectively with the smooth, graceful textures of the waterfall.
Is lunch better taken beneath the golden leaves of a tree in the open air, or inside a dining hall filled with friendly faces? The answer all depends on the season.
The sight of a boat house on a remote body of water gets my eyeballs ready for an explosive speedboat entrance from a secret agent. I guess an Adirondack sunset is an acceptable runner-up prize.
A likely astonishing number of my childhood’s imaginary forts and escapes were on islands. Though I have no idea why, the present-day result is that my head snaps to the side with every Adirondack island I pass. What adventure could be happening there?
I know they both have their shape due to the same causes (i.e., physics, gravity, etc.), but it sure is convenient that the wings of this seaplane and the shore behind it so tidily align.
Trees frame the sunset at Long Lake.
Decaseconds 