Passing into autumn, I’m already thinking ahead to the winter nights in the North Country. The hidden, semi-subterranean Buccaneer Lounge is a warm and cheeseburger-filled beacon on a cold, rainy evening.
I’ve taken many pictures of St. Lawrence University’s Johnson Hall, particularly at night—its sheer glass face looks particularly stunning when fully illuminated. After years at the school, I’ve realized the degree to which those pictures have aged; the trees outside no longer take the same form and the whole setting of the structure is now. After more than five years at St. Lawrence, perhaps I need to begin revisiting other structures, too.
Clear, cold winter air and a road stretching north from the Connecticut-Massachusetts border makes a lovely entrance to the Berkshires. A photogenic dusting of snow doesn’t hurt, either.
This is an example of perfect timing—as much as I like to take winter pictures, quadcopter drones like neither snow nor extremely low temperatures. Early in the season, however, there are lucky days like this one where snow is immediately followed by clear skies and above-freezing temperatures that give me a tiny window in which to capture the winter.
From modern lasers to something a bit older: the lakeside view of Mohonk Mountain House, looking much as it has for more than 100 years. The sheer face of the cliff contines into the structure and reflects in the water.
There are many ways to define the seasons, with varying degrees of usefulness. (Solstices and equinoxes seem to have only the thinnest connection with the weather.) Perhaps the most valuable differentiation between times of the year is when one can reasonably be out on the water: “Spring” is that first moment when an afternoon in a canoe doesn’t sound miserable.