Category: Photography

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Photography

A tad more fall

I do have other Fall photos, from Elephant Rocks, Shaw, Forest Park and more, but I’ve had little time to prepare them, or think of what to write to accompany them. I’ll post most of the photos eventually at Tinfoil. I need to start becoming more selective, though. One really satisfying picture makes more of a statement than several good enough photos and one truly satisfying photo.

I did receive a surprise when driving through Iron County, past the homes with the old Confederate flags out front–several Kerry/Edwards signs. No Bush signs, but plenty of those green and white “Jesus” signs, and that’s about the same as a “Vote for Bush” sign in these parts.

“In these parts”

I have gone native. At Johnson Shut-Ins, which is always so much friendlier than Elephant Rocks, several people ‘sayed hallo’ as they passed; commenting on my walking stick, or if I’ve had good luck with the photos today. I noticed that when I answered, I sounded like someone born and bred in the backwoods of Missouri. Or, as I should say, Missoura.

Missour-a. Halleluj-ah. Okay, now I get it.

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Saturday was a broken sunny day, a wonderful drive to Elephant Rocks and The Shut-Ins. The Fall color has peaked, though, as it has for most of the state. Only the deeps of the Ozarks might still have it. After I take what photos I can of the mills and the last bit of fall foliage, we’ll be into winter. Then I’ll be leaving my camera at home and focusing just on the hikes and walks.

Sunday I went to Shaw, and on the way impulsively stopped by Purina Farms to see if I could take photos of cats. The Farm was closed, preparing for a Halloween bash later that afternoon. I decided to go to it, and killed time until they opened at Shaw and exploring Highway 100 (or is it Route 100) that leads from Gray Summit.

I just followed whatever road looked good, and ended up driving past one of the most beautiful golf courses I’d ever seen, with homes on the hills above it that must have been 6000 square feet, at a minimum. It was beautiful, but I’ve never understood why anyone needs a house that big.

I ended up on a very narrow road that went up a steep hill, full of curves, and I gulped a few times coming around some of the corners. I spotted a Conservation Area I hadn’t heard of, Engelmann Woods I believe it was, and stopped to walk around a bit.

It was a pretty area with an easy trail, covered in dry, fallen leaves. Up ahead I spotted the bright red splash of color that you get with Poison Ivy this time of year. Which is good because as the trail progressed, the Poison Ivy got much thicker, and much harder to avoid.

Of course, Poison Ivy leaves also fall off, and sure enough many of the leaves I was walking through were Poison Ivy. That ended my walk, but I’m glad to say, I didn’t get any exposure from the plants. It sure was a pretty day, though, with warm weather and a cool breeze, and hearing the sound of the dry leaves underfoot. Is there any sound better than the swish crackle of walking a trail inches deep with dry fall leaves?

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When I got back to the car, two Harleys were parked next to it, and I grabbed a picture of them because, well, they were Harleys.

From there, I headed back down the curvy road, which is much more interesting, and back past the mega-homes to Purina–just in time for the Duck Herding show, but that’s for another post because it’s late and I’m tired.

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Categories
Photography

A bit of fall

Despite the clouds and a threatening storm, I could no longer delay my lookout for Fall color. Since the price of gasoline is outrageous, I stayed local, and went to the Missouri Botanical Garden.

I rather like the mix of colors and scenes I was able to discover, so this is a bandwidth killer.

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I was asked recently about why I don’t take more photos of people. I do have some that are favorites of mine. I have many other photos of people, including several from the Pumpkin Patch last weekend. The reason I don’t publish them is that I usually don’t care much for them.

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In fact, I usually don’t like people around at all when I’m taking photos, unless I’m taking photos of a specific event. It’s not that I’m adverse to taking photos of people; it’s that I take them from the inside out. I take what people see, and if I’m lucky, very lucky, what people might feel when facing a specific scene.

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I like color and shape and an emotional context. Sometimes I’m able to grab photos that have all three; other times, I have to settle for one or two out of three. But that’s okay, I love the search as much as the discovery.

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There have been times I’ve wanted to take photos of people, and have hesitated because I didn’t know how to approach the people, or the opportunity just wasn’t there. One of my favorite photographers, Walker Evans, is famous for his photos of people–on depression-era farms, subways, and on city streets–but was uncomfortable approaching people directly. When he photographed people at the farms, he would set up his camera and then just wait until the person formed an expression he wanted.

He would rig hidden cameras under a coat for use in the cities. Maybe I should try something like this.

That’s not to say I want to take photos like Walker Evans. No, he had his unique and wonderful style and I couldn’t duplicate it, and wouldn’t want to.

There are several professional photographers (retired or still active) who weblog and who I admire, as photographers, writers, and people, but I wouldn’t want to photograph like them, either. I would listen to their advice, and welcome it; but they have their own style, and I’m still finding mine.

In the meantime, I look for color and shape and emotional context–whether I find it in a kid playing as a dove in a town square, or in a fall garden on a misty, cloudy day.

Categories
Photography

Before there were cans

Yesterday afternoon I walked around Forest Park in St. Louis, and today, I went to Horseshoe Lake Park in Illinois. However, on the way today, I spotted a Pumpkin Patch festival and had to stop to check it out. Which is my way of saying I have a few photos to share. (More will be posted to Tinfoil Project).

It has been a disappointing fall, for the leaf color just isn’t going to be there this year. Too dry too late, and the weather continues slightly sultry. I may be able to get some color in the Ozarks at the end of the month, but it’s not going to be as vivid as the colors were last year.

I looked all around Forest Park yesterday for some Fall color, knowing that you and I would both be disappointed by my not finding something bright and cheerful and just saturated by rich hues. However, about the only spot of bright color I ran into was in the bridesmaids dresses of a wedding party having their photos taken at the Park. It was a pretty color, too –like the deep red/orange of a new fall leaf. Everywhere I went, I seemed to meet up with the same wedding party of bride in fancy white dress, groom and groom’s men in black, and the bride’s maids in their lovely scarlet frocks. I remember thinking to myself the photographer must be a terror to have them whip around from place to place so quickly.

It was when I was wandering around the Great Basin area, with the fountains and the lake, and the very picturesque bridges that I discovered the truth. Towards the west was what I thought was the wedding party I had been seeing, including the ladies in their lovely frocks. However, towards the east, I could see another wedding party and the ladies in this party were also wearing red. They were having pictures taken on one of the bridges and I could see waiting behind them another wedding party, and the maids in it were also wearing red. It was a variation, true. The first party’s ladies wore a rusty red; the second wore more of a ruby red; and the last a bright apple red. But red, nonetheless. What are the odds?

I was standing there, marveling at how similar all of these wedding parties were when I noticed another limo bus pulling up, with another wedding party. The door opened, and I held my breath. It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t be. Then I spotted a bright flash of color as satin spilled out of the door.

Red! Arrggghhh!

Later as I thought about all of these weddings and the brides and their choices of what must be the popular color this Fall, and how even this pretty color lost its appeal when repeated over and over. A nice reminder that every autumn photo doesn’t have to be brilliant orange, scarlet, and yellow to be special; and I need not stop and take a photo of every orange butterfly sitting on a purple flower.

Did I happen to mention that I have long legs? And no, I’m not that oddly shaped — I was wearing a jacket and carrying a camera bag. The head is mine, though.

However, that’s not to say that I’m going to walk away from color, and that’s why I enjoyed my visit to the Pumpkin Patch. It was held on a farm along Highway 111 on the way to Horsehoe Lake, and it seemed to be quite a party. There was live country music, and a haunted petting zoo–a haunted petting zoo, can you dig it?– as well as a corn castle, and hay slide. This in addition to the more traditional tractor pull, horse drawn carriage, and hayride.

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There was also a few other rides, but simple small fair stuff.

People could buy already harvested pumpkins and squash, or could pick their own. The ones in the field seemed pretty picked over, but I noticed that there were some nice pumpkins that were just set around, detached from the vines. I figured the farm must seed the field each day of the festival so there’s always good pumpkins in the field. A clever trick, and no harm to the act.

Today I saw my first silver colored pumpkin. I’ve seen white ones before, but silver?

From there it was only ten minutes to the lake. It’s more popular than I like, but enough space to allow one time to oneself. I was particularly taken with was the beautiful blue water in some areas and the green algae close to shore in others. I also rather liked the dead trees that had fallen into the lake. There’s something esthetically pleasing about these trees–a bittersweet beauty in their graceful, bare, limbs. They remind me of Audrey Hepburn.

Fishing is popular in this lake and there were several fishermen out when I was there. I watched one pull a fish from the lake, pull it off the line, toss it on to the grass with others, before re-baiting his hook and throwing the line back in–in one smooth motion. Takes years of fishing to get that proficient, but a lot of people depend on the local fish, and game, for their meat.

There’s an island that can be reached by a built-up ridge intersecting the water. The hike I followed was on this island and was supposed to be 2 miles, but after the Pumpkin Patch, I was already tired and the distance seemed longer. It was also quite warm, though a lovely breeze was blowing. Not many birds this time of day, but lots of grasshoppers and other insects. I watched heron in the lake, but didn’t get close enough for any decent photo.

About half way around I met two older ladies out walking their dogs, and we ended up chatting as I petted their pups. They lived in Illinois but had just spent several weeks traveling across the northern part of the states to Maine and back. They were so delighted by their trip that I kept asking them questions about it, just to hear them talk.

In Maine or Michigan, I’m not sure which, they had picked blueberries from bushes and had them for their breakfast, and I gather this was their first time exposed to blueberries in the wild. Both kept talking about grabbing handfuls of blueberries, and how they tasted so much better than anything they’d had before.

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Isn’t it wonderful to meet people who take such a delight from such an simple activity? I grew up in an area where huckleberries grew wild and we would pick them every year; even then, I could identify with these ladies–picking berries and then putting them directly on your pancakes for a late morning breakfast is an immensely satisfying experience.

About like going out to a pumpkin patch for your own Halloween pumpkin. Or catching your fish directly from a lake. Sure beats going to K-Mart or the Mall.

Categories
Photography

Photoshop CS

For an article I’m writing on Adobe’s new DNG format and converter, I downloaded and installed Photoshop CS on my Mac, and updated to the new RAW plug-in.

Oh my. I will never begrudge an upgrade to Photoshop ever again. I’d rather do without food than this upgrade, and have just placed an order to upgrade my Photoshop on my Mac.

Oh my, what it can do with RAW files.

Oh. My.

Categories
outdoors Photography Places

Old Mills

Yesterday I drove to the core of the Ozark region, in south central Missouri near Mountain View. I wanted to check out how far along the fall foliage was, and also to look at a couple of the old mills along the North Fork river.

Along the way, I spotted my first Missouri armadillo. Unfortunately, it was road kill, but I hope to see more live ones towards the end of October when I’ll spend a couple of days in the area, taking photos. The trip is just too far to make for effective day shoots, and, frankly, there’s also too much to see — I thought the area around the Meramec or the Missouri or Mississippi rivers was lovely, but there’s something about the white water charm and crystal clear waters of the North Fork that appeals to my Northwestern roots.

I wonder if I’ll ever discover all of the faces Missouri shows. There’s the southern face along the Mississippi, through St. Louis and along the north-south trek. Then there’s the east-west feel of Missouri along the Missouri River, with its old Indian legends and the Lewis and Clark trail. Towards Kansas City is that strong midwestern influence of corn and wheat and cattle and good steaks–enough to make a man want to loosen his bible belt. And now there’s the Ozarks and the odd backwoods magical feel to the forest, as if one can expect gnomes to pop up at any moment. Or at least a hillbilly or two.

The Ozarks with its old bridges and mills, such as the old Dawt Mill that I visited yesterday.

The North Fork river is just what it sounds like, the northern fork of the White River. Its crystal clear waters are home to rainbow trout so if one gets tired of fishing for catfish along the ‘Sip, one could drop over for a little trout fishing.

(Speaking of trout, if you ever get a chance to go trout fishing, there is nothing better in the world than freshly caught trout, pan fried. You can keep your fancy sauces, and gourmet presentation. Just coat that bugger and fry it up nice and golden in a cast iron skillet, and dig in with your fork. No need to dirty any plates. )

The river winds alongside Mark Twain forest where black bear gambol about with bobcat, armadillos, white tailed deer, coyote, river otters, and gray and red fox. According to the Ozark Fall Foliage report this is a good year to get photographs of the critters.

The weather has been rainy, which is good for the vegetation, but not for photos. My hope is to time my second trip just right to get the foliage at or near peak, heading down into Arkansas as well as staying in Missouri; spending a few days, exploring and taking photos. I’ll probably head down the last week of October.

I had a wonderful drive yesterday. I really enjoyed seeing new scenes, and tripping around the mill, exploring. Next to the mill was a bridge across the river that was basically a plain concrete slab — no walls– and just wide enough for a car. Or a person on foot, like myself. I also explosured around the mill knowing that this time of year, at least, I don’t have to worry about accidentally brushing against poison ivy; it turns a brilliant scarlet in the fall and is easy to spot.

I also enjoyed the drive — putting on some good music, and just going with the flow of the traffic. More than that, though, it was good to get away from the computer. I must be away more in the future.

There’s so much beauty around us. And it goes by so quickly. About as quickly as the last of the fall color. As Gary Cooley from the Ozark Mountain Website says:

Once the peak is here the leaves are at a very tender stage. They dangle by a few molecules at the stem base where it connects to the twig. One good storm and down they come.

Same can be said for most of life, eh?