A poster of Caspar David Friedrich’s “Wanderer above the Sea of Fog” hung above my bed in college, and I’ve since then developed a love of Rückenfiguren in images. Building from my last post’s theme of self-portraiture, I thought using myself as the POV for an image in Stone Valley might add the right German Romantic vibe.
Earlier this week, I posted an image that used long exposure to contrast textures in a landscape. This image achieves a similar goal, but perhaps with even more drama and structure. The oblique lighting from the blue-hour sky exaggerates the sheets of stone that have been thrust forth from the Earth.
Rough rocks, fuzzy trees, and long-exposure-smoothed water make this a North Country texture combo platter.
This is one of those images that’s definitely worth clicking through to view at full size. The rough surfaces of rocks, moss, and pine needles contrast so effectively with the smooth, graceful textures of the waterfall.
A wall of white water greets visitors to Laurel Falls. Can you spot the little magenta flashes of rhododendrons in the rocks?
Hiking through Stone Valley to capture a vibrant sunset over long-exposure-blurred rapids really only works if the sunset shows up for the party. What I found instead was a more quiet and contemplative view of early autumn in the Adirondacks.
Coming face to face with a monster waterfall at the end of a hike brings a refreshing sensation: invisible clouds of cool mist.
It’s a cliché of landscape photography that the huge scale of a landscape can best be conveyed be including a human. Though there is indeed a person in this picture, I think Laurel Falls needs no help. Perhaps that’s because of trail experience to reach it.
The apparently slow and placid water above Lampson Falls seems out of character with the dramatic torrent downstream.
Just before the solstice, I most appreciate processing my pictures from spring. The needles and fallen leaves of winter are still on the ground in this image from Lampson Falls, but new life is pushing through.
(Can you spot me on the left side of the picture, at the top of the falls?)
Evoking superhuman scale in photographs really requires a human scale bar, and the tiny people on the bridge were obliging enough to wear rain jackets in red, yellow, and turquoise that stand out from the natural hues.
Rolling Adirondack foothills make for a whole array of waterfalls around the North Country. Lampson Falls looks particularly good from this “impossible” (sans drone) profile perspective, with sunset light reflecting off the pool in the foreground.
Quadcopter drones give photographers access to all kinds of new angles for shots, but also introduce challenges that did not have to previously be considered. I should have thought in more detail about the orientation of the impressive Lampson Falls—and considered that I wouldn’t be able to get the steep face of the falls and the setting sun in the same shot. I guess I’ll have to get up at dawn for the “proper” version of this picture.
Flying again in the spring means a special view of the Adirondack foothills, particularly in areas like this: Lampson Falls in Clare, New York.
I cheekily posted this picture to Instagram with the caption, “Get ready for fall(s),” last weekend, but I have to admit I really am. Photographically, autumn means peak creativity for me in the North Country, including visits to places like this: Lampson Falls.