I first was introduced to this light through the kindness of Bobby Draper. He knew I photographed lighthouses. On our way past he stopped for me to get a photo op. This was taken many trips later. But I remember who showed it to me first. Thanks Bob.
Moonrise. We arrived at dusk, missed the sunset, because we were lost. The last tram was headed to the top and there was no admission because we were so late. It is a rather nice view of the city lights. And the moonrise was just another bonus. We didn’t see much of the art. But I was there for the photo op anyway.
My backyard in Maine had a little storm pond. In the summer frogs croaked all night long. Mosquitoes flourished. In the fall there was a brief period when in the morning light it was a little bit of heaven. Yes, once I had a water view.
I get a window seat when I can. This was the trip from hell. I was flying to Detroit and landed in Chicago. I drove all night to arrive at 5:30AM and then did an interview all day. I was pretty tired. And on the flight out and headed home, well, there was this sunset. I’ve haven’t been back to Detroit. I have always said it is preferable to sit in a window seat.
I love water reflections. Still water is not easy to come by. This one reminds me of a print of a Chinese print of an arched bridge that I once brought back from Hong Kong. This shot was along the road near to Runaround Pond in Maine.
It’s always been in my life in New York. You take if for granted. It is a means of getting from point A to B. I have commuted over the bridge for many years on the way to work. I have biked over the bridge on the five borough bike tour. I have walked and biked the bridge just touring. And I have stood on Brooklyn Heights and at the South St Seaport. It’s an old friend that you sometimes forget, taking it for granted.
I was fortunate enough to make it onto an island full of puffins. I’d do it again. The problem is that it would be a very arduous trip. So for now, once was enough. It’s not just the birds. There is fog and lupines.
You need the whole experience. The shot one sees on the post card is of the lovable bird statically positioned. You can’t point your camera and not capture a zillion of these shots. So what is unique? Pondering, I fell back on my sports experience (tennis, Manny) and realized that “flying” was the ticket. Ninety percent of the time the puffins are standing around. The last bit is flying. There’s plenty but it is not easy to have the focus, focal length, and composition all working simultaneously for a bird in flight. On this one I had no lessons or advice. I just relied on experience and imagination. It was a one shot deal. There are other things I might do since I am more experienced now. It’s great that things change and make you want to get better.
Paraphrasing what Forest Gump said, ‘(fog) is like a box of chocolate. You never know what you’re gonna get.’ It is such a subtle thing to shoot fog. Like rainbows the effect is ephemeral. And back when it was film, you would not know what you had until the moment was long gone. As a kid I rode to have transportation around the neighborhood. At this point in my life it was for the scenery that changed faster than running. And later biking would be for fitness. We were on our one and only guided bike tour in Maine. The kids were dropped off in camp. And here was that foggy morning….Lubec, Maine.
I’ve done this shot whenever there is the opportunity. Usually it’s an early morning shot. In this instance David and I were on a mission to Al Waba. We left early in the morning and began to take a series of shots of the passing countryside. The clouds/mist/fog/smog hung over the mountains (hills) and, voila! You have to do a bit of cropping and you need to pull out the hills layered upon layer. But it works.