Road Trip to Seward

A couple of weeks ago I made the trip north to Alaska, returning to my former home for a brief visit.  While there, one of several road trips I made was to Seward, a small town nestled along the shores of Resurrection Bay.   

I drove to Seward early in the morning as I wanted to be there before the sun rose.  A few miles outside Seward, I was driving past Bear Lake when I saw the reflection of the mountains in the water, and I quickly pulled over to the parking area on the south side of the shore.  Normally, I don't compose a photo with the horizon line in the middle of the frame, but here I wanted to give equal weight to the mountains and their reflection...

Once I got into town, I started the morning by walking the docks of the boat harbor.  As the  light filled the sky, reflections began to fall across the early morning's still water.  Soon the reflection of this boat and the clouds in the water caught my eye.  I composed the shot so the frame would essentially be divided into thirds - the boat, the reflection of the boat, and the reflection of the sky in the water.  

Soon the sun started to break the horizon.  I stopped to take this photo, crouching down to emphasize the metallic reflection in the water...

At the corner of the harbor I noticed this seawall and was immediately attracted to the textures and patterns, light and reflections that were present...

Soon after, I saw this and carefully composed this scene so the blue reflection of the top boat would meet the the grey strip on the bottom boat...

I then took another shot of the harbor, this time emphasizing the sweeping look of the clouds in the sky...

After leaving the harbor I drove down Lowell Point Road, stopping to spend some time at a small boat launch.  Soon the sun started to break through the cloud, casting Crepuscular (God) rays towards the sea...

I worked the scene for awhile, and here again I wanted to emphasize the sky and the sense of wide open space...

Nikon D7000, Nikkor 16-85 DX VR

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Crow Creek Mine

A couple of weeks ago I went back to Alaska, where I lived for over 30 odd years (mostly consecutive) before moving to Santa Fe, New Mexico.  Like any trip back to a place where you spent a considerable amount of time, you notice things you miss, things you definitely don't miss, or stumble across things you didn't appreciate or experience when you lived there...

For this first blog post about the trip up north (there will be others in the coming weeks as I sort through photos I took and themes and thoughts come together), rather than write about something grand - like my drive into Denali National Park - I thought I'd write about something smaller, more intimate.

My first morning in Anchorage I grabbed the rental car and headed south along Turnagain Arm with no real agenda other than getting out of the hotel and back into Alaska.  I drove, watched Beluga whales roll in the early morning sun, and eventually ended up in Girdwood, a small town mostly known for Alyeska, a world class ski resort.  Slowly driving through Girdwood, enjoying the sunny morning, I spotted the sign for Crow Creek Mine and veered down that way.  Having never explored the mine, I decided to give it a look. 

After paying a small fee, I started walking around, scanning the area, taking it all in.  Soon I spotted this truck, 1929 Model A Ford.  The morning dew melting off the truck, the flower box under the front bumper, the wooden shack in the background made for a nice composition...

I loved the look of this small building (I left the site map in the rental car so I can't say for sure what it is).  Moose antlers, lanterns, wagon wheel, flowers, moss growing on the roof, a staged scene but still one that pulled me in...

Walking into the building, one of the first things I noticed was the morning sun pouring through the dirt and grit on the window.  As I've written previously, I can't resist stopping and taking photos when there's a dirty, dusty, gritty window; the character it can give light, especially light captured early in the morning or later in the day, is a character I find photographically irresistible...

In a small bedroom off the main room, I spotted this bag sitting on the table.  The bag and the bottles on the dresser were kissed by the morning light, softened by the lace curtain.  I stood there looking at the bag, imagining it was the bag of an old country doctor making a house call...

Looking out the front door, the door framing the wagon wheel, light coming through the door, forest in the background, tools hanging on the wall to left, I liked the rustic look of the scene.  If there's a door or a window with any character, I'm going to stop, look, and shoot...

Walking back towards the parking area, I stopped and took a few more pictures of the old Ford truck.  At one point I noticed the reflection and melting frost in the back of the Ford's headlight...

I ended up staying longer and taking more photos than I could have imagined.  Partially a step back in time, partially staged kitsch for the tourist, Crow Creek Mine is a stop I would recommend if you find yourself in Girdwood.  Next time, I'll grab a gold pan and spend even more time there...


Nikon D7000, Nikkor 16-85 DX VR

You can view my online portfolio here

Driving Across Kansas

In July I made the trek to Kansas to visit family.  I ended up spending a couple of days in Ottawa, a small town in America's bread basket, indistinguishable from many others like it across the midwest.  While there I did get the chance to visit the Old Depot Museum, a small museum in an old railroad depot that pays homage to small town America and the history of the surrounding area.  The museum consists of small rooms throughout the two buildings, each with a different theme or focus on a period of time.  One of the first rooms to really catch my eye, that had some flair to it, was this recreation of a 1950s era malt shop.

Across the hall from the "malt shop" was a recreation of an old country school house, complete with the American flag, bell, and an apple for the teacher.  You can't see it from this angle, but the room was complete with an old pot belly stove and rows of old wooden desk with ink wells.  

I spent a considerable amount of time exploring the building and taking photos, but ultimately it was these two rooms that I kept coming back to when looking through the day's photos...

On the way back to New Mexico I saw these old buildings as I passed through the outskirts of Strong City.  I don't know what they were used for - my guess would be grain storage - but I liked the look of them, once proud, still standing...

Later that day we passed through Ellinwood in central Kansas, and the main intersection in town was the setting for this building that caught my eye, with a weathervane and lightning rod perched on top. 

Looking down Ellinwood's North Main Street I saw these shocks of wheat, made of metal, mounted to the light poles.  This street, lined with utility poles sporting the shocks of wheat with the flag flying below, screamed small town Americana...

As I always do when driving through Kansas, I stopped in Liebenthal, population 102, where my parents were born and my mother was raised.  Over the years this small store has changed hands numerous times, and it appears to be waiting patiently for its next incarnation...

All photos taken with a Nikon D7000, and a Nikkor 16-85 DX VR lens

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Casa Grande Trading Post

Located on New Mexico's Turquoise Trail, Los Cerrillos is an old mining town clinging to life.  I had explored this small town once or twice due to its close proximity to Santa Fe when I decided to visit there once again with my wife last December.  We drove the dusty streets of this small town, checking out the old buildings and decay and wondering what kept people in this once bustling mining town.  On a whim we decided to follow the sign to the Casa Grande Trading Post and Petting Zoo and see what it had to offer.

Upon entering the place it quickly became apparent that this was a treasure trove of antiques, kitsch, junk, and odd collectibles - a perfect place for exploring with a camera. I quickly paid the $2 to go into the "Cerrillos Turquoise Mining Museum" section of the building and starting taking pictures.  The colors and light, clutter and shadow made for an interesting composition...

I had my wide angle lens mounted on my camera that day, and after taking some wide shots of the room, I noticed the sunlight pouring in through the windows.  The low, cool,  afternoon December sunlight was further softened by the dust and dirt on the windows; the light and shadow and dust pulled me in as I pushed in close and took a few shots... 

And I pushed in even closer...

We came back in February, so I could explore the museum further and my wife could feed the Llama and goats and birds again...  

Again the combination of color, light, shadow, antiques, and junk made me stop...

Here the late afternoon sunlight touching the old bottles and rocks caught my eye...

All the way in the back of the building I saw this window...

Just last month I was there again, this time with a visitor from out of town.  I knew we would be stopping there as part of a morning road trip, and this time I brought my fisheye lens along.  My hope was that I could get a "different" type of shot, one that pulled in as much of the room as possible.  After several attempts, this is the shot that I settled on as being "the best."  Normally I would think about correcting the fisheye distortion, but in this instance, I don't think it detracts from the feel of the scene...

I think that is absolutely the value in revisiting a place, even a small place (with a lot of character) like the Casa Grande Trading Post and Petting Zoo.  Every time I've been there I've seen the place a bit differently.  Time of year, time of day, choice of lens, passage of time and changing taste and perspective of the individual all play into how you view a place on a particular day...

Nikon D7000, Nikkor 10-24 DX (Dec ), Nikkor 18-55 DX (Feb ), Nikkor 10.5 DX Fisheye (July )

You can check out my online portfolio and purchase prints here 

Natural Bridges National Monument

Last April we took advantage of a three-day weekend to run over to Canyon De Chelly National Monument.  One morning, on a whim, we headed north to drive through Monument Valley (which I wrote about here).  After driving the loop through Monument Valley and taking a few photos, we headed north with no real plan in mind.  Soon after passing through Mexican Hat, Utah, we started debating what to do next when I saw a sign for Natural Bridges National Monument.  A quick conversation later we were headed in that direction, not being sure - other than what the sign would imply - of what lay ahead...

At the Natural Bridges National Monument Visitor's Center we grabbed a map and learned that there was a loop drive through the park that stopped at overlooks for each of the three natural bridges within the park, with trails that lead down to each of the bridges.

The first stop was Sipapu Bridge.  Not satisfied with the view from the overlook, I decided to hike down.  The trail is .6 mile one way, with a 500 foot descent down to Sipapu Bridge, which, when taking into consideration that you're at about 6,000 feet elevation and the temperature is around 90 degrees...  Let's just say that I worked up quite a sweat by the time I got back to the car!...  Once I got to a place with a good, level view of the arch, I took a look at the scene with my ultra wide angle lens (a Nikkor 10-24 DX) and quickly realized that there was no way I could include the whole scene in one shot.  Fortunately, I had decided to bring my fisheye lens along as well.  Normally a fisheye lens introduces too much curvature to a scene, unless held relatively level to the horizon.  In this instance the scene was so wide that the only way I could include the arch in its entirety was to use the fisheye.  I carefully composed and took a few shots...

I then followed the trail further down and got closer the bottom of the ravine...

After climbing back up, I walked along the ridge a bit to get a different perspective, looking down at the arch.  I decided to keep shooting with the fisheye, to include as much of the landscape in the shot as possible, aiming to get that "sweeping" look to the shot...

Kachina Bridge was the next stop.  The hike down to Kachina Bridge was .75 mile, with a 400 ft descent, but not quite as strenuous as the one that lead to Sipapu Bridge, having a more gradual descent and longer switchbacks.  Once I made it to the floor of the ravine I approached the arch from the dry creek bed, stopping to take a few shots along the way...

Here I used the arch as a frame, capturing the window of blue sky against the beige rock...

I walked around a bit, through the arch and out the other side.  Looking back through Kachina Bridge, I pushed in tight, again using the bridge as a frame for the photo.  Later when I was processing photos from this trip, I thought that this particular shot would benefit from a black and white conversion...

The last stop was Owachomo Bridge.  The path to Owachomo Bridge was only .2 mile, with a descent of 180 feet.  As I got close the the bridge I noticed that the sun was close to the top of the arch, so I stopped the lens down to f22 and tried to position myself to where the edge of the sun just clipped the top of the arch, to get a small, tight sunburst...

Nikon D7000, Nikkor 10.5 DX Fisheye

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The Lone Tree

The "lone tree" shot.  I was watching a video recently with a cheeky title like "photography cliches that must die" or something similar, and the "lone tree" shot appeared on the list.  I didn't think much of it at the time, but after a while it worked its way back into my mind, and I wondered for a moment - is it a cliche?  That quickly passed, replaced by what I thought was a more important idea - does it matter?

I don't think it matters.  I could say something along the lines of a cliche is a cliche for a reason - because it works.  But that would stray from my main thought.  I think the only thing that matters is that I continue to photograph things that catch my eye and continue to keep pushing myself to get better.  Thinking about the "lone tree" shot did prompt me to go through my files and look for examples I had on hand.  Some of those, along with brief explanations of where I was or what I was thinking at the moment (or both) follow...

Plaza Blanca, which Georgia O'Keeffe called "The White Place" and painted on several occasions, is located near Abiquiu, New Mexico.  After walking down the hill to where a dry creek bed bisected the area, I saw this lone cottonwood tree, its yellow leaves shimmering in the early morning sun. The golden leaves really stood out against the cool blue early morning sky...

The same morning at Plaza Blanca we (my wife and I, who was along for the hike) followed the creek bed, and as we rounded the corner, I saw this tree and noticed the contrast between the early morning light in the leaves against the white box canyon walls...

One morning while driving through north-central Arizona, I decided that I wanted to take a quick detour to Seligman, Arizona, to take in a little Route 66 nostalgia.  The morning was cool, and a thick fog blanketed the landscape.  This tree stood out against the grey of the morning...

Capital Reef National Monument, located in south-central Utah, was intended to be a quick stop on the route from Zion National Park to Moab, but my wife and I were quickly drawn in by the unexpected beauty of the area.  Given that we were in southern Utah, an area known for its unrelenting natural beauty, it should have been anticipated.  But, even after having been to Zion and Bryce Canyon National Park in consecutive days, the beauty of the area was remarkable.  Before checking into our hotel for the evening, we spent some time looking around, and soon I saw this juniper tree, with the overcast skies and red rocks in the background...

This was taken last winter while driving down a country road over La Bajada Mesa, north of Los Cerrollos, New Mexico.  I liked how the look of the tree, lying dormant in winter, matched the muted winter landscape...

This shot was taken at Junction Overlook on the North Rim of Canyon de Chelly National Monument in Arizona.  With the sun still high in the afternoon sky, I decided to incorporate  the tree's shadow in the foreground and stopped down my lens to f22 to get a starburst from the sun near the top of the frame...

Kasha-Katuwe Tent Rocks National Monument, located about 40 miles southwest of Santa Fe, New Mexico, is a place I've visited on several occasions (and blogged about as well).  A trail leads through a slot canyon and works its way to a lookout above, where hikers can look back down into the canyon.  When hiking through the slot canyon a few weeks ago I saw this tree high on the canyon wall, which seemed to flourish despite its seemingly precarious hold...

I'm tempted to end with another cliche: every picture tells a story.  Or, every tree tells a story...

Nikon D7000, lenses, from top - Nikkor 10-24 DX (first two), Nikkor 18-55 DX (next four), Nikkor 16-85 DX VR (last shot)

You can check on my online gallery here

Slowing Down

As I've written recently, one of things the drew me to photography was photographing flowers.  At first I photographed a lot of flowers, then slowly got away from that as I started to explore landscape photography, travel more, and in general spent more time covering as much ground as possible in places I hadn't been before.  I got some good photographs out of these efforts, but I probably missed just as many, if not more, by not slowing down a bit and trying to look around, trying to see the beauty that exists in what at first appears to be the mundane.

In the last year as I've explored New Mexico, I've started to slow down a little, to try and appreciate the smaller things.  Doors, windows, old motel signs, ristras, wagon wheels, I've photographed them all, repeatedly, sought them out, sought to appreciate the smaller parts of a larger whole.  I've set "assignments" for myself, things I want to photograph, techniques I've wanted to explore, confined myself to only bringing one lens along on a day trip, all in a way to keep pushing myself forward.

As I wrote recently, I hadn't used my macro lens in a quite a while, but that morning spent with my macro lens, just poking around my own backyard, was another example of what could be found when I took the time to slow down...

Recently northern New Mexico has seen some consistent rain, a welcome relief from the heat and four years of exceptional drought.  Wildflowers have been in full bloom, and my wife and I decided to go for a drive down some isolated country roads to look for wild sunflowers, which I remember seeing last year. I didn't bring my macro lens along as I wanted a little flexibility in terms of reach and the ability to go wide if a monsoon suddenly rolled in with some drama in the skies.

At first it looked like we had missed the peak of the sunflower bloom, as we saw more dead headed plants than live ones, but soon we came upon a nice stretch of them.  The morning light had faded, and the breeze had kicked up a little bit, so at first I didn't think I'd be able to get any shots in.  The sunflowers that were facing me were already washed out from the bright light, and getting too close to them, with the breeze blowing, made it difficult to get a sharp photo.

After a few shots I decided to concentrate on the flowers that were turned towards the sun, and shoot those from the back so I could catch the sunlight glowing through the petals.  I also took a few steps back, chose the widest aperture possible, and racked my lens all the way out to compress and blur the background as much as possible.  This first shot had some nice light hitting the petals of the flower, but I was totally dissatisfied with the background.

Walking down the road a bit I saw a taller flower that was pointing directly up, so I crouched down just a little bit to try and get a "level" shot of it against the blue sky.

Then it was just a matter of trying to grab a few shots...

Varying the angle to emphasize a little less (above) or a little more (below) of the sky...

Are these great shots?  No.  Will they go in my portfolio?  No.  But they gave me a chance to look a little differently at things again, try different techniques, and push myself a little farther down the road...

Nikon D7000, Nikkor 16-85 DX VR

View my online gallery and purchase prints here