The hilltop above Prague, now the site of Prague Castle, has been continuously inhabited since prehistoric times. Events of enormous historic importance (like the Defenestrations of Prague) happened via windows looking out on a very similar view.
Time has transformed a random sunset shot out the window of my sabbatical apartment in Berkeley’s Normandy Village into a nostalgia-inducing pixel arrangement. Even the wood patterns in the window frames now stand out to me.
Thirteen years ago, I took this picture out the window of my dorm room in Trinity College’s Jarvis Hall. Over the years of renovations and upgrades between then and now, I don’t believe the room or the tree are still there. The iconic Neo-Gothic windows, however, are still there.
My neighbor parks his growling, thundering Audi S3 in a perfectly-sized space. He carefully backs it in and tucks down the corners of the Audi-emblem car cover. At night, this machine comes to life. LED headlamps flare and the walls of the garage form a resonant chamber for the warm-up revs of the turbo engine. Hydrocarbons are injected, explosively oxidized, and exhausted; the beast is unleashed!
A quick Sunday bonus shot: an alternate view from my window in Columbus, where I also took this shot.
Waking up early at the Fairmont Olympic means peaking out the window to a contrast: the blue sky says day has begun, but the sodium-lamp-lit streets say night continues. The tan brick and window frame provide a logical grounding point for the viewer, placing you directly into the otherwise-fantastical scene.
I only spent two nights in the surreal alpine mountainscape of Oregon’s Timberline Lodge. Though my previous photos were either in the dark of night or far-off scenes, I’m quite enamored of this morning shot. The mountaintop and the slopes stand in the distance, the morning light is casting long shadows, and the shiny carafes of coffee promise a sharp start.