Does anything say “college life” more than an afternoon nap in the sunshine beneath autumn foliage?
Good landscape photography is all about finding the perfect vantage point and being patient. Sometimes, however, real life demands a bit more serendipity. While there are incredible views to be had in the Adirondacks, there are also long sections locked between walls of forest. When there’s a once-in-a-summer sky overhead, patience gives way to reaching a lake before the moment disappears.
While my normal images capturing the “civilization gradient” tend to be more focused on space (traversing from nature to dense urban areas), I sort of like the way this image reminds me of a traversal through time, from the Stone Age to the Information Age. As William Gibson says, “The future has already arrived—it’s just not very evenly distributed.”
Or perhaps it really just reminds me of the vantage point from Caspar David Friedrich’s “Wanderer above the Sea of Fog“.
While there’s a real island in the distance on the left side of this image (Angel Island, in this case), the steep Grizzly Peak hills and the road over them transform hilltops into “tree islands” like the one on the right.
On a winter’s stroll through the forested grounds of Mohonk Mountain House, a snowy gazebo makes the perfect place to stop and enjoy the sunshine.
Passing this tree on the way home from work each evening, I can’t help but be reminded of the intersections among nerve cells called ganglia.
Exploring up a forested Napa hillside at dawn, I was surprised to find the remains of a road and (a bit farther on) the foundations of a long-abandoned building. Given how many well-remembered childhood films took place in the forested hills of California, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.
Against the backdrop of mostly native flora on the hillside, the palms and vines in the foreground are notable for being (1) particularly emblematic of California, in spite of being (2) transplants from elsewhere.
A consistent theme in my posts over the past few weeks has been “reflection,” raising the question: Am I feeling particularly introspective, or have I just been finding great views with water ?
On Earth Day, I really like the image of the next generation, growing up in nature under the shelter of elders.
Or its alternate title, “High above shallow water.” Near an oxbow in the Grasse River, shifting land is turning the pine forest into an area of swamp.
While the rest of a wine-weekend gang slept in or drank coffee in their pajamas, I climbed the hill behind the house to catch this Saturday morning sunrise over Napa’s dormant vines.
Each tree in the canopy is roughly rotationally symmetrical, resulting in an anisotropic pattern. The sunlight breaks the symmetry and produces this beautiful streak of bright, cadmic yellow.
The nighttime version of this shot offers an extra degree of warmth and quiet beneath the tall oak tree.
Outside Trinity College’s Jackson Hall stands this enormous oak tree. It was there when I was a student, and I remember looking out the window at it through the changing seasons. Though a tiny corner of campus (and perhaps unremarkable), this place holds a lot of personal meaning to me.