Near my home there are two lakes that I pass every day. Round Lake is the one that's most accessible, and where I've taken the most photographs. Walton Lake is much more difficult to photograph because there is no road shoulder to stop on, and the only two places one can park are a great distance away from the most interesting subjects. But, last weekend I was seduced by fog and the puddled ice, and hiked here with the camera. I've long wanted to photograph this tree, and did once in a way I wasn't happy with, but fog allowed it to be isolated from the background, and me to be happy to make this image. It seems so lonely and fragile, but I'm sure it's happy where it is, and will thrive and grow for decades.
Saturday, February 23, 2013
When Mannes and Godowsky developed color film in the 1920's and '30's, they must have been inspired by spring and fall; certainly not by the drear of winter in the northeast. Except on bright sunny days, nature wears a monochrome mantle for nearly half a year. Snow restricts the palette even more, and it's very difficult to generate an interesting photograph without other elements like water, ice, and sky. A long drive in the country yesterday didn't result in seeing anything worth stopping the car for until coming to this little stream that snaked and meandered through a sparse grove of trees. It's not uncommon for streams to wind like this, but it is uncommon for them to do so over such a small distance. Just right for the 135mm lens!
Friday, February 1, 2013
In winter, the Hudson River is not only dynamic in its tides and currents, but also in the tremendous power of its ice. Standing on the river's western shore in Cornwall, I was astonished at the roar it made as it floated on the south flowing current, crashing into enormous masses of previously shattered ice. I imagined it to be a model of what tectonic plates must be like as they fracture the earth's crust in their inexorable movement. In several months, the ice will be gone, but the rocks it has rearranged, the piers and landings it has damaged, and the newly carved scars in the banks of the river will remain.