~
As I get back to creating and publishing images, I thought I’d have a bit of fun with this one. The original frame, by itself, didn’t really strike me as very interesting until I decided to apply the Train to Nowhere concept.
Taken at Crawford Notch, New Hampshire, on a cold, overcast autumn day.
~
I’ve said it before: I’m not an early morning person… usually.
While in Acadia National Park last autumn, we got in the habit of waking up early — around 4:30AM — so that we could get a cup of coffee and transport down to the waterfront for sunrise shooting. During the two weeks we were there, most sunrises were rather mundane due to the clear weather, but on occasion… this. It was well worth the effort, and had the added benefit of putting us in a place where there were few other people, if any at all.
This was taken from a set of 9 frames, merged in Photoshop Merge to HDR Pro, finishing with a bit of Topaz Clean (for the rock foreground), and a slight radial filter in the clouds to accentuate some of the long exposures.
500px | Google+ | Twitter | Purchase a Print
~
In the relatively small area that is Acadia National Park, beautiful scenes are everywhere. It’s also one of the nation’s most heavily visited parks, so people are everywhere, and most of them have cameras to capture their share of the scenery. And like most parks, there are certain areas where people are ‘funneled’ into one small section that reveals a highlight.
Such is the case with Jordan Pond and “The Bubbles”, those two small peaks across the water. What you don’t see in this picture are the hundreds of other visitors strolling along the carriageways and paths leading along the pond.
The views in this place are archetypal, and have been photographed probably millions of times. As such, it’s difficult to envision a new approach, a new angle or lighting that would present the subject in a unique way. Sometimes I wonder if that’s even possible without creating an abstract rendition.
We take the shot anyway, hoping to capture this particular scene, on this particular day, with those particular clouds. Perhaps get down low to see it from a worm’s eye view. Maybe add on a neutral-density filter to smooth out the water.
In the end, whether or not we come up with an image that is utterly unique or one that’s fairly commonplace, we can appreciate having been there that day, experiencing nature’s beauty as the light changes with the passing clouds, knowing that each of these moments IS a completely new and unique experience.
~
500px | Google+ | Twitter | Purchase a Print
~
There’s no place for photography quite like Maine, particularly Mt. Desert Island and Acadia National Park. There are quite a few people in the area — tourists mostly — and any number of areas that might be considered a bit bland, but around almost every bend, you might be greeted with a scene such as this one.
Typical. Typical, and incredibly beautiful.
If only there was a way to capture the sense of salt air; the sound of seagulls squabbling over a found mollusk; the hearty, clean scent of low tide.
Just a bit north of Bass Harbor, we drove past this area before turning around for the shot. For me, it seems to capture the essence of Maine, with the expansive skies, the scenic beauty, and those wonderful boats that conspire to bring me yet another lobster at the end of the day.
~
500px | Google+ | Twitter | Purchase a Print
~
After returning from New England after our autumn vacation, we decided that we simply hadn’t had enough, so we set out for western North Carolina to catch a few waterfalls.
Okay, so we went for the apples. Farm fresh apples in autumn are not to be considered lightly. We loaded up on several bags of them in between side trips.
One such side trip took us along a narrow forest road, then hiking up a trail for about half a mile to get to the Daniel Ridge Falls. The autumn season had been relatively dry, but there was enough water to provide some interest to the scene.
Three frames at f/11, merged with Photoshop Merge to HDR Pro, toned in ACR, finished in Photoshop with Nik Color Efex Pro.
~
“Missed them by that much.”
Susan and I had a lovely autumn vacation in 2014, graced by some of the best, driest weather we’ve ever experienced in New England. When you’re living in a tent for a month, rain is not usually welcomed. The only disadvantage to all that dryness is that on most mornings, there weren’t any clouds that would provide photographic interest.
Still, we’ll take it. After sunrises, we got a lot of hiking and biking in on the trails of Acadia.
We spent a total of 16 nights on the island — surely a record for us. Despite the long stay, our circumstances dictated that we leave for New Hampshire to meet up with my college buddy JUST before the NxNW crew arrived at Acadia — Bob Lussier, Mike Criswell, Mark Garbowski, Chris Nitz, Len Saltier, and a number of other photographers that I would have loved to meet in person. Perhaps next year would work out.
Enjoy the scenery — A delightful sunrise on the rocks near Otter Point, remarkably devoid of other people, which can be a rare event on the island.
~
~
A neighbor in our community let us know that he had a Great Horned Owl nesting in one of his pine trees. Since he knew the mother’s behavior, it seemed like an excellent opportunity to photograph this rather rare bird.
In order not to startle her out of the nest, we had to climb a ladder along the side of the house, up to the roof, and carefully peer over the peak. Setting up a tripod there was rather challenging. I looked through the lens at 300mm, and… no bird.
My neighbor told me that she never spends more than about 5 minutes out of the nest, so I waited. Sure enough, she came back to the area in a short while. As she flew from tree to tree, she was constantly badgered by other birds, with jays, crows, and mockingbirds all making a racket.
She eventually flew into the nest, settled down, and proceeded to have a staring contest with the human on the roof. (She won handily.)
500px | Google+ | Twitter | Purchase a Print
~
Okay, I can take a joke, but…
Susan and I had devoted the month of January for a road trip to Florida, camping and kayaking the clear springs across the state. We worked for weeks to get everything ready, eager with anticipation. Finally, a couple of days before the new year, we strapped the boats on top of the truck, loaded all the gear, but then had to hold back for a weekend, as it was raining heavily. (It’s not fun to start a tent camping trip in a puddle.)
Once we made our first stop in Charleston for New Year’s festivities, we checked the weather. More heavy rain was on the way, so we cancelled our next beach camping plan in lieu of a cabin in the Okefenokee Swamp in southern Georgia. While comfortable there, we couldn’t paddle due to high winds and constant rain. I suppose that’s okay, because as it turns out, almost 3/4 of the acreage in the swamp burned badly in 2011. We used to escape to the Okefenokee, as it was the quietest, most primordial-looking place we had ever known. Now it looks like a war zone, with charred sticks that used to be beautiful cypress trees, and it will take many years for it to grow back to its former glory. (That said, fire is a good thing. The Okefenokee is not so much a swamp as it is a peat bog. If the peat doesn’t burn from time to time, the entire area would fill in, with no waterways available.)
We had anticipated staying in the tent in the Okefenokee for a few more days, but weather forecasts indicated that we should move further south for warmth and dryness, so we re-routed to Silver Springs, Florida. More on that wonderful place later.
A full week after leaving the house, we managed to get a paddle in on the Silver River, although it was cool and overcast. When we landed back at the camp and checked the weather, we saw the massive, record-breaking cold front coming down on us. Poring over the forecasts, we decided that rather than enduring 20F cold, we would move down to Jupiter, Florida. Yes, it was much warmer down there, but being at the edge of the cold front, we were inundated with Gulf moisture and high winds. Three days, no paddling.
We had planned to go to the southernmost point of Florida, Flamingo, then to the west coast, but every place we had planned was subject to some of the most rotten camping weather imaginable.
We called a Full Retreat. Enough was enough. Two weeks out on the road living out of the truck; changing plans at every stop; only had one paddle trip; one day of sunshine. Home starts to look pretty good after a while.
On the way back north, we managed to snag this beautiful cabin back in Silver Springs. Surrounded by Live Oak trees draped in Spanish Moss, these “cabins” are more like full-sized houses, with a huge wraparound porch that we enjoyed to the fullest extent. (Yes, it rained that night.)
There were several good moments and highlights along the way; it wasn’t all bad. But as I sat on the porch and contemplated our fortunes, I couldn’t help but think that someone was up there, looking down at me with their thumb on the weather button, and saying, “You know, Rob: You… just… tick… me… off.”
~
500px | Google+ | Twitter | Purchase a Print
~
Continuing on with the series from the abandoned farmhouse in North Carolina, I found an interesting composition through a door sidelight in the front hallway, looking back toward the kitchen, pantry and other rooms at the back of the house.
One has to tread very carefully through here; the right side of the house is pretty much missing, and the best path is to balance-beam along the floor joists.
Of compositional note: The original frames were much wider, but when I cropped this to something close to a 9:16 format, it just popped.
Related Posts:
Through the Bedroom Window
Inside Lines
Purity of Intention
~
500px | Google+ | Twitter | Purchase a Print
~
Although the abandoned farmhouse sits directly on road frontage, if you look out the back windows, there are farm fields about as far as the eye can see.
I tried to imagine what life must have been like in this area so many years ago. There was likely very little traffic, no airplanes overhead, no air conditioners humming. Perhaps the owner was rumbling along the fields in an old tractor; kids out back playing under the huge trees that have long since fallen; the matriarch of the family calling to them through this back window, the breeze fluttering the curtains. Time to come in and wash up for dinner.
It’s eerily quiet there now, except for the occasional passing car. The farmhouse has melted away, but I suspect not the memories that the residents had of living and growing up here.
Related Images:
~
500px | Google+ | Twitter | Purchase a Print
Rob Hanson Photography Blog 