HDR Photography
One of my best images (and I do mean best) captures a swing set adrift in the Salton Sea, seemingly separated from time and space. While my first worry was that an aerial view of the swing and its setting might remove some of the magic, I’ve realized that the opposite is true. The merging of sea and sky into a single cloud-graced expanse make even the mundane array of vehicles on the shore look parked at the edge of forever.
Our stay at Mohonk Mountain House last fall produced so many images I loved. I posted the first of them last October, and today (more than a year later) I post the last. This nook between glacial cliffs is simultaneously private and yet offers an exceptional view of the lake and Skytop perched on the cliff in the distance. This is the perfect place to spend an afternoon reading a book.
This car/plane sculpture at Bombay Beach looks either very ready or very unready to head off into the sunset—but I can’t figure out which.
In the cracks between the glacier-carved cliffs above Lake Mohonk, hidden platforms make the perfect spot to read a good book on a truly relaxing afternoon.
Drone photography geometry exercise: a tetrahedron in profile collapses into a triangle, then reflection doubles it into a diamond.
From one Mohonk framing to another, we arrive one of Mohonk’s signature gazebos (but during the day this time.) After a gentle hike, a charming view is a perfect way to cap off the summer season.
A quiet morning between father and son, fishing from a rowboat on a placid mountain lake: does it get more classically summer than this?
Mohonk’s gazebos are iconic, but in my childhood, they vanished into the woods as night fell. The addition of strings of lights to them means that they stand out more without the sunlight.
Warm, welcoming, and… monolithic? Though Mohonk is a huge, castle-esque structure, the hotel nonetheless feels deeply cozy in the evening. Perhaps it’s the sense of life about it. Zoom all the way in and people are visible, enjoying the warm air on the many balconies.
A human-made building-cliff faces a glacier-made cliff; when the sun sets, one glows and the other reflects the light.
For something termed a “hazard,” this body of water looks pretty placid in the evening light.
All of the little details of place—the railings and paths, the docks and balconies—stand out in the blue hour. There’s a cozy contrast between the warm lights of Mohonk Mountain House and the cooler colors of the little gazebo atop at rock staring back at the hotel.
A big dramatic sunset sky and lake reflections provide great context to the wall of stone that is both Mohonk Mountain House itself, as well as the cliffs on which it rests.
A post came on social media from more than 11 years ago reminded me of trips around the Bay Area; comparing my RAW files with the images I ultimately posted to Decaseconds originally left me asking, “How did I miss these?”
In past cases of reprocessing pictures, I took another approach to images I already knew were solid. This first image today, boat sailing near Point Bonita lighthouse north of San Francisco, is in a whole different category: I hadn’t remember that I’d taken the image at all.
The occasion was a trip to the Legion of Honor and Lincoln Park. Back then, not a single picture made it to Decaseconds. Many of the images from that day suffered from issues that I know how to correct now, but didn’t yet have the tools to conquer in early 2012.
These pictures from a trip to Treasure Island to shoot the San Francisco skyline are likewise mystifying. I posted only a single picture from that trip.
The old and new spans of the Bay Bridge, side-by-side, is a literally now-unseeable image.
Though a lot of posts came of our trip to the Marin Headlands to shoot the Golden Gate Bridge, this more natural shot of the rocky coastline (those little black dots are sea birds) has its own kind of large-scale glory.
Of course, a trip back through my photography in the Bay Area wouldn’t be complete without a shot of the Golden Gate Bridge that I previously ignored.
Several posts ago, I showed you the view from Mohonk Mountain House’s Skytop, including its fire suppression water supply. Seen from the other side, that reservoir makes for a perfect mid-morning reflection.
Decaseconds 