Six Views of Payson and Piskor

As I did in the past, I captured a time sequence of views of St. Lawrence University’s Payson and Piskor Halls (with the ultimate goal of making a dynamic desktop for macOS.) A steady tripod and a very large lens skirt made this possible.

I: Morning

Six Views of Payson and Piskor I: Day

II: Late Afternoon

Six Views of Payson and Piskor II: Late Afternoon

III: Sunset

Six Views of Payson and Piskor III: Sunset

IV: Blue Hour

Six Views of Payson and Piskor IV: Blue Hour

V: Night

Six Views of Payson and Piskor V: Night

VI: Dawn

Six Views of Payson and Piskor VI: Dawn

Three Reminiscences of Fall in the North Country

The Bay Area seems to experience seasons at a different pace from much of the rest of the country. Summer is a month-long period from mid-August through mid-September, fall lasts from October through March, and the summer goes from April until August. Winter (as the East Coast understands it) isn’t a part of the equation. Being back in fall, then, has me reminiscing about fall in the North Country, with leaves starting to dot the ground and the Blue Hour arriving sooner.

Piskor

Berkeley’s undergraduate student population is still mostly gone for winter break, leaving UCB’s campus to resemble St. Lawrence’s during Fall Break in October. The empty-ish parking lots might be bleak, but at least it’s easy to get a table at lunch time.

Fall Break Parking Lot

And one final bonus from that fall weekend: a most dramatic and exciting picture of a most unexciting car. I present to you: the World’s Most Interesting Toyota RAV-4.

The Fanciest RAV4

Keep Books Dry

I know the fundamental constants governing physical interactions remain the same (within experimental error). Precipitation isn’t changing the Planck Constant. In spite of that, reality seems subtly tweaked and upgraded on a drizzle-coated evening and shot through a wide-aperture prime lens. I’m sure glad the books in the Brewer Bookstore aren’t being “upgraded” by the rain.

Keep Books Dry

Last Sunset of Spring 2016

Semesters mostly end in a slow burn to the end of final exams. There’s a different end date for almost every student; only seniors share a collective terminus at graduation (and they’re too conflicted about the whole thing to really enjoy it, I’ve noticed.) Last year, I used Decaseconds to document the feeling of the campus contracting, like a balloon in liquid nitrogen, at the end of the semester. This year, the sky and the sun seemed ready to provide a dramatic end to this semester’s classes.

Last Sunset of Spring 2016