I upload pictures to be future Decaseconds posts as I find images I think are worthy. (Only the best for my readers.) During most of the year, a three-photographs-per-week pace keeps up with my new acquisitions. This fall, however, was a time of plenty, powered by my DJI Mini 3 Pro’s incredible range and low-light image quality. To keep up with demand necessitates a triple-play today.
Three views of Canton, New York begin with this image over the Grasse River, with islands in the foreground and SUNY Canton in the distance.
Farther south, St. Lawrence University’s campus is lit up for the evening.
And the quad by Kirk Douglas Hall looks warm and inviting. (It’s currently beneath a layer snow.)
Canton is the seat of St. Lawrence County. The multistory stone buildings amongst the sea of single-family homes that out here because they (and the church steeples) are the only structures tall enough to catch the remaining red light of sunset.
Sustainable farming has found a home in New York’s North Country.
Today’s image comes from along the same trajectory as my Cantonhenge shot, but farther down the path of Route 11. In the foreground, parks, businesses, and homes cluster around the center of Canton, New York.
When winter arrives, the last of the garden needs to be harvested and wood needs to be stacked.
Deep reds and purples stretch across campus at sunset. My favorite time to capture with my drone is the moment between when campus’s lights come on and the sun finishes setting—that time in which the two sources of illumination are dueling.
The topology of a town, the shapes of its roads and the storefronts that citizens navigate each day, shifts from quotidian reality when bathed in sunset light and seen from several hundred feet up.
A North Country homestead demonstrates clearly the shifts in seasons.
When the weather turns warm (in spring, as in this picture’s case, or in autumn, as in this week’s reality), St. Lawrence’s students do love their hammocks. I think this particular pair of trees may have reached maximum capacity.
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.
Park Street might have been named for a different park (the one up the street), but the glow of St. Lawrence’s campus at night (the reverse view of this shot) has a delightful Central Park vibe that matches the street name well.
Visiting my colleague’s property at the height of fall foliage, I was impressed by the contemporary solarpunk aesthetic of a solar panel installation in an orchard.
Following principles of green design, St. Lawrence University’s Johnson Hall of Science was built facing north-south, such that light throughout the day could be used to light rooms on both sides. The inner courtyard even features a light stone facade to help bounce more light into the inner offices. (I can attest that this works.) When the rest of the campus was constructed along the local street grid, rather than the compass points, the result is that JHS looks like a bit of a rebel among its neighbors.
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.
One of St. Lawrence’s monikers is “A Candle in the Wilderness,” and this drone shot of the bright campus with the dark forests beyond explains the name.