HDR Photography
The midwest is a flat region, but the true two-dimensionality doesn’t hit you until you until you see the region from above. The tallest things for miles around will be water towers. Each town’s tower marks it, like a piece on the world’s most beige chessboard. Still, they have a certain beauty in the evening.
Walking through the forest with family on Christmas day always has a special crispness to it. The roads are deserted, the days are short, the trees are bare. If the weather is chilly, the whole experienced is sharpened with red noses and warm drinks afterwards. That was the experience on the day I took this photograph.
It’s sort of hard for me to believe upon revisiting this shot that it was taken on a college campus, or that beyond this stand of trees is a relatively well traveled street. This is just one of many things that struck me as awesome about UBC’s campus.
This little canyon ends at the beach, and its miniature stream flows back and forth with the tides. On this particular evening, it was starting to rain as the sun set through the clouds. The beach was abandoned, and whole scene felt post-apocalyptic.
If you give people a maleable surface and some privacy they will almost undoubtedly deface it. This is certainly true on this soft, well-worn sea cliff on California’s coast. It was difficult to make out much of the writing but it is evident that someone sure wanted to make sure that heart would endure. Almost makes one wonder if the original artist periodically comes back to touch up and admire their handiwork or if the heart just serves as a painful reminder any more.
Usually, Brendan has a monopoly on gorgeous scenery from the Seattle area, but today I get to show you my version. Here, we see the sun setting over the rooftops of Burien. To the left, the Puget Sound peaks through the trees. I love the sense of depth and scale provided by the roofs as they climb the distant hill.
Another shot from Shorewood’s community beach, this time looking to the south at (from right to left) Three Tree Point, Seahurst park, and the waterfront houses on Standring Lane. The water was exceptionally calm on this summer evening and the gentle lapping and soft lighting were extraordinarily relaxing. At low tide you can practically walk straight across to Seahurst beach, but alas this was taken at an extremely high tide.
As much as I like the California ocean beaches for being the epitome of ocean beaches, I think my favorite beaches are the ones around Puget Sound. They may not be particularly sandy except at low tide, and the water may be too cold to really enjoy even during the hottest part of summer but Puget Sound is always so calm and subdued. It’s a gentle lapping of waves rather than a roar of the surf.
I had my own staging of Two-Lane Blacktop in central Oregon this weekend, with the company of this particularly lovely 911 Carrera 4S Cabriolet. This is grass seed country, and this particular weekend fell in the middle of the harvest. Long, perfectly maintained roads are intercut with forested hillsides and busy fields. By this point in the evening, however, nightfall brought calm with it.
For every sunny hilltop like the one above, there was a tree-lined valley. The setting sun really picks out the details of every treetop, but it’s a shame that Oregon has such a clean, healthy atmosphere. Without other molecules in the air to scatter the light, the sunsets lack the exciting colors of other parts of the country. This photograph captures the feeling of blasting down the road, wind in my hair, with only an occasional truck for company.
Brendan has previously posted a several of gorgeous shots of Half Moon Bay and its associated Pillar Point air force base. This particular shot shows a different kind of Cold War-era neurotic nostalgia that I find really enticing. On one hand, this young couple is gazing off at the family silhouetted in the sunset–a vision of their future. On the other hand, the radar dome of the Pillar Point AFS is a sinister reminder of Cold War-era threats from across the ocean. Taken together, I’d like to think it’s emblematic of the Californian experience for a lot of folks: promise and peril.
UCB’s Tolman Hall has a surprising number of urban legends surrounding its uniquely 1960’s appearance. The building is overcrowded and soon to be renovated, but I have to admit that it has a certain charm when the evening light bounces through concrete surfaces of its breezeway. The blues and greens of the shadowed campus and the golden sunset colors are appealing, to be sure, but it’s really the textures that I find so fascinating. The combination of precast and cast-in-place concrete means that there are at least four different textures here, each one reflecting and scattering light in its own, unique way.
Just around the corner from one of my favorite buildings, I found this spot where the curve of a footpath mirrors the curve of the passing road. The last moments of the day make for tiny beams of sunlight around my feet and tapping the tops of trees across the road. The start of summer is a perfect time in California.
Watching the sun go down on an empty beach can make me feel like the only person on the planet, but little signs of life will always remain–be it foot prints or, in this case, a sand castle. In comparison with my previous sand castle post, this particularly little fortress is so much calmer, smaller, and more considered.
Whenever Photomatix releases an update, I like to go back and see what I can do with old RAW files and new software. This shot is a little bit older now, but I fell in love with the way it captures so much of the Bay Area in a single image: the Port of Oakland on the left, bits of Berkeley on the bottom-right, the Bay Bridge and Yerba Buena in the center, and San Francisco itself on the right. For so much of the year, the sky is absolutely clear until the marine layer blankets the bay in fog. The fog was just sliding over the hills as I took this shot; in a few minutes, the city had disappeared.
What I really liked about this shot taken on the California coast (you may recognize the creek from previous postings) is the contrast of the reds in the rock with the green of the shrubs hanging on for dear life. The erosion of the rocks is also particularly pleasing.
Decaseconds 