Every now and then I find an old place that just intrigues me. This was not one of those places, necessarily. The property wasn’t all that interesting and I just wanted to finish my work and move on. At the corner of the lot I noticed this old building, and was suddenly alert. I did find at least one way to enjoy the place. Maybe this is where clouds are born.
Sometimes it’s the simple things that make life sweet. Moving through life without stopping to notice the details makes it hard to appreciate the finer points. That is what this image is a result of. Taking stock of my surroundings, and keeping an open mind. I was photographing something totally different, but the light here caught my eye and I had to find a shot. I’m pretty happy with it. What do you think? Did I move on to the next stage? Do I get to move up?
I was up early a few weeks ago, with nothing much to do that day. So I decided to go out looking for a nice photograph. The sun was far from coming up so I had time to go poking around on this unplanned shoot. I came to a meadow filled with cattle, but more impressive were the approximately 200 elk grazing on the early spring grass. There were about a dozen elk calves wandering around in a clump. I did shoot a few shots of them, but simply wasn’t prepared for wildlife that morning. Nothing to show for it. I did hang around for a couple of hours watching the light do it’s little dance across the horizon to the west, gradually creeping down the sides of the mountains. As the sun finally peaked over the hill in front of me, I clicked off a few shots, but nothing was really exciting my artistic eye. As the morning wore on I suddenly became aware of the cattle guard I had been standing nearly on top of for the past two hours. The sun was glinting nicely off of it, making it a magnet for me. The sun rose higher and happily the clouds grew more interesting. The result is nothing short of pure joy for me. I hope you like it, too!
This is an American Avocet (Recurvirostra americana) from the Camas Prairie in Idaho last May. I didn’t have a long lens with me, so this is a mega crop. I also didn’t have a fast lens, so my shutter speed was too slow. At any rate, I managed to get something. There are so many beautiful birds to see there for how far north it is. I was totally amazed! I’d seen this and another in a zoo in a special display, so I felt particularly honored to have seen them up close in the wild.
Sometimes, simple is best. This shot of a leaf and water drops was captured after a violent spring storm. What was left behind was peaceful and serene.
Labor Day weekend is a prime time to hit the Colorado high country. The majority of the summer adventurers have headed for lower climes, which leaves the higher and cooler areas less populated and more peaceful. Ice Lake is just one of those places that people love to visit, but not quite as much in the early autumn of the high elevation.
This particular day we encountered rain and hail on the several miles hike up to the lake. It was a tiring trek, but this view at the end was well worth the effort. Have you ever visited Ice Lake? If not, be sure to put it on your list.
While at a family camp this past weekend I saw this pretty frozen sunset lake scene. I wasn’t the only one to get a panoramic shot of it, but I’m probably the only one to do it in HDR. I shoot a lot of images in HDR but I make every effort to have them appear as the human eye sees things, though I am a saturation junkie at heart and so I do sometimes boost that out of control. Anyway, this was such a gorgeous scene the picture really cannot do it justice. The fog was ever so slowly rising up off of the lake and the golden sun was shining down through it making it look like a sea of gold. If you ever get the chance, be sure to visit Payette Lake in McCall, Idaho in the winter. It is truly gorgeous!
I love trains. I always have. Some day I hope to get a nice long ride in the engine of one of these monsters. But for now I’m happy just to photograph them. When I first saw this line of Union Pacific engines, it was actually longer but I didn’t have time to stop and shoot. While it is shorter now, there are at least 40 engines sitting there, and still more that were behind a parked train.
Sometimes you don’t need a reason to shoot a location a second time in as many days. When an early autumn storm blew through this week, I knew I had to get out and see what was worth shooting. I had second guessed the sunset time wrong, again, and so was not able to continue to the location I had in mind. Instead I turned of 10 miles early and headed to where I thought I might see something nice. I was right. The elevation difference between the valley and the heights of Squaw Butte made for and excellent aerial playground. The clouds shearing across the landscape were interrupted by the stalwart ridge and forced to give way, washing around it like the sea around coastal shipwreck.
I just love old things, which I think shows through clearly in my work. Maybe it has something to do with my revere for the wisdom of the aged. They are still, quiet but when they speak there is a lot to learn. If only this old train bridge could talk. Sitting under its wise gaze learning from the years that have passed over it, the many lives it has seen and the changes it has grown though would surely fill many enrapturing volumes.
For my part, I tried to drink in as much of it as I could, even with my lowly camera lens. Sitting under this beautiful functioning relic makes autumn even that much more magical. Thanks for the memories, old train bridge.
