Crescent Beach

Here's a shot from Crescent Beach, which is just north of Cannon Beach and mostly inaccessible. It was a hike but well worth it. I saw folks on the trail that looked like they shouldn't be there, I had boots, and they had flipflops. Some people looked like they couldn't make the steep inclines, it made me wonder if rangers rescued hikers here. Nevertheless, I made it despite hesitations of my own and arrived at this rugged, isolated beach. I placed my tripod low and took this as the water receded. I used an ultrawide 12mm lens from Venus Optics. It mostly stays in the bag, but times like this I'm glad I have it because of the perspective it affords.

Faerie River

In my imagination, this is a place where you might find the fae folk. The stream is part of a river in a state park, but I had the idea little invisible beings were all around. The image is from the Hillsborough River State Park in Florida. Maybe it was my mood or the setting, but parts of it seemed nothing short of enchanting. There are places inside forests like this that have an ephemeral quality of nature about them. I experienced the same thing in the forests of Oregan a couple of weeks ago. Some sections of the trail had a subtle quality that you could easily miss. I have no idea if nature spirits exist; I've never seen one. At the very least, encountering these areas in the wilderness gives me pause and stokes my imagination.

Huckleberry Lane

Driving up Highway 126 along the McKinzie River, the temptation is to pull off at every little bridge or vista. On one near Fin Rock, I found this lonely lane. I've heard so much about the forests in the Pacific Northwest, and seeing them for myself was worth the trip. An old utility road through the forest is an invitation to explore. It was blocked off, so maybe it's better I didn't drive it in my little rental car. I imagine that, like the Mangroves of the tropics, these conifers constitute a significant source of CO2 sequestration for our planet. Not only that, the forests are the habitat for mycelium which we are just now discovering can lead to cures for pollution and disease. Let's hope these forests remain protected as vigorously as our Florida mangroves.

Cannon Beach

Cannon Beach reminds me of Carmel by the Sea; only it's about eight hundred miles to the north. A little more unconventional, perhaps, but that's a good thing. Actually, this is a view of Crescent Beach with Cannon Beach in the distance; but the whole area is known as Cannon Beach. I drove here to Ecola State Park from Portland in the morning, and getting an early start was vital. After I returned from a hike, the roads and parking lots were full of holiday travelers. The July temperature is in the upper seventies. There used to be a direct path to Crescent beach from here, but it got washed out in a storm. The alternate trail is about a mile and a half and is rather arduous. Even so, it was worth it, and because it was harder to reach, there were very few people. So I walked the whole beach, took plenty of photos, and skipped the crowds.

Oregon Coast

I drove up and down the coast of Oregon last week to get a break from the Florida heat and take pictures. This image is from a random beach where I and several others stopped to watch the sunset. There was this little freshwater stream that trickled down from the hills and disappeared into the sand. When a family stepped in front of me, everything lined up, so I took the shot. The Oregon Coast Highway is probably better done in an RV so you could stop and take it in for long stretches before moving on; I was in a Ford Fiesta. I took plenty of stops but not nearly enough. Sometimes my wanderings would pay off with something interesting to see, other times not so much. But as they say, it's not the destination but the journey.

Emerson Point Clouds

To get here, you walk through a jungle trail, and it's easy to get a bit disoriented. That is until you pop out from the brush at sunset. The image I took here is similar to one I did from the same spot a half dozen years ago. The clouds and weather ensure each image will be different, and I never tire of it. Due to the full range of light and the difficulty of shooting into the sun, this is a combination of at least five photos. I combined the images with AuroraHDR and then parts of it re-layered in Photoshop. In some respects, this is a painting, in that the light was blended to create a picture. That creative process I find satisfying, even if it is the same scene on a different day.

Scott Lake

Scott Lake was a detour of a detour I took while driving through Willamette National Forest. I took so many detours its surprising I made any forward progress at all. I figured as long as I had gas and some trail mix I was probably not going to have problems. The only real dilemma was deciding when to turn back. If I didn't need sleep, I'd have driven all night, and that would have been just fine. I could see setting up camp here and exploring for a few days. As its the pacific northwest, I'd half expect to see a bigfoot. This area is so big and untamed that it would not surprise me in the least. At least this is where I would be if I were a bigfoot.

Cape Cove

While driving along the Oregon coast, I stopped here in Cape Cove. The area is so pretty it's hard to take a bad picture. The coastline has these massive rocks that are the remnants of an eroding mainland. I can imagine that ten-thousand years ago the land extended well beyond where it ends today. These are up and down the Pacific coast, and they make for good studies in geology and, in my case, photography. I created this effect using an ND filter, which allows for a long exposure, even during daylight; this is a 20-second exposure. With that, the water appears smooth like glass. Also, the aperture is set to f22, which allows both the foreground and background rocks to be in focus, and it creates the star effect of the sun. Also, shooting right into the sun like this created lens flare, which in this case, I quite like.

Forest Path

A few days ago, I walked through a forest in Oregon's Ecola State Park. It was a nice break from the regular everyday routine. It was my first time visiting Oregon, so I toured both the mountains and coast to get a sense of things. There was no real plan other than drive, observe, and take photos. I'd see something intriguing, and follow it until I had to turn around. In this case, I was near Cannon Beach, which is a famous resort town. This particular trail leads to the isolated Crescent Beach, which bears no resemblance to the beaches in Florida. It was a good change of pace.

Sisters, OR

Imagine living in a town called Sisters; how cool would that be? The name comes from its proximity to the Three Sisters volcanic peaks in Oregon. The good news is that Middle and North Sisters are dormant. The maybe-lousy news is the South Sister is showing signs. I took a detour to see the fifteen-hundred-year-old lava flow and, as lava flows go, it's a big one. Here is the Wikipedia page. (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Three_Sisters_(Oregon)#South_Sister) Here is a shot I took of the lava flow, but it doesn't do justice. It's about five miles wide. Anyway, I was just glad to be here and out of the Florida summer heat for a few days. Oregon in summer is a mild climate, not too hot, not too cold. Goldilocks would approve. After visiting the lava flow, I ended up in this mountain town. If South Sister ever decides to come back to life, this place will have front-row seats.

Simple Seascape

This image is from Ken Thompson Park in Sarasota on a hot summer afternoon. So hot, in fact, that three minutes later I was back in the car. There are a couple of reasons I like this photo; one is the minimal aesthetic, and the other is that its same spot I took an abstract picture with an iPhone. The abstract I took during a sunset that was like nothing I’d ever seen. I didn’t have a camera, so I used an iPhone. Not that it matters. The two have nothing in common, yet I stood at the same spot for each. It just goes to show what imagination, setting, and post-processing can get you.

When I See It

If you head down this road for three minutes, you'll end up at the gulf. If you go the other direction for about two hours, you'll end up at the Atlantic. Only in, Florida. I was leaving the gulf and stopped for a different shot when I happened to look back; that's how I came to take this photo. Most of the pictures I take originate from this rather haphazard approach. That's not to say I don't occasionally plan; it's just that planning and this type of photography are only loosely connected. Having a plan gets me out of the house, and that's where the connection ends. Once out of the house, the struggle is figuring out what photos to take; to solve that I try to stay open and aware of what's around me. Over the years, I've developed an aesthetic which largely stems from my personality. So, when I go out to take photos, even though I may not know what I'm looking for, I will generally know it when I see it.

Brain Games

Here is one of the trails at Emerson Point that I recently explored. If it weren't for that they are well-marked, I'd still be in there somewhere. When you look at this photo, something might seem a little off. The path appears level yet distorted. Can you guess what it is? Spoiler, ...the boardwalk ascends a hill, it's not level. Once you know this, the sense of distortion disappears. Our brain is the most complicated thing known to science. But neuroscientist can do all sorts of little test like this to point out the contours of aspects we are only beginning to understand. Check out this short demonstration of the blind spot which we have that the brain fills in. Most of us never even know we have one. I certainly didn't until a few days ago. https://youtu.be/aB_oEknhlW8

Yellow Stand

These last few days it's been unbearably hot. The last thing I'd want to do is be sitting here all day; unless of course I had nonstop margaritas. The image is a redo of a photo I processed six-years ago. Because the tools and my techniques change so much, I like to redevelop images to contrast and compare to my former self. There's no right and wrong, just different ways to see the same thing. As we head into the middle of summer, I am looking forward to some downtime under a tiki hut sipping a frosty little drink with an umbrella. Umbrellas in glasses are a crucial element for survival in harsh environments. This is an important fact you may wish to remember. You're welcome.

River Reflections

The reflections along the Hillsborough River are entirely peaceful. That is until you realize alligators lurk just below the surface. But if I was an alligator, this seems like the perfect place to live. I'm living in a state park, I don't get harassed, there are plenty of turtles to munch, and I don't have to get stuck in someone's pool and have my jaws taped shut. In reality, alligators have it hard. Only a small percentage make it to maturity. The most energetic, most intelligent among them live out their full lives. And the luckiest of those are living here in these beautiful parks.

Longboat Key Public Pier

Docks are kind of a big thing here; everybody seems to have one. Dock Life is the new Salt Life; only you don't get wet. Not that I know the first thing about docks or salt. I'm one of three people that doesn't have one. Most of the docks in Florida are private, and they have No Trespassing signs posted. That's a shame, but I suppose it makes sense. Anyway, some of the best are public, like this one in Longboat Key. It's next to a couple of restaurants so you can dock the boat and have dinner. Near my home is a commercial marina with a couple of hundred yachts. It's also next to a restaurant, appropriately named Dockside Grill.

Lower Path

There are two paths along the river; one higher up and one lower down at the bank. The alligators prefer the lower one. The problem with the higher path is there is too much growth to get a clear shot of the river. So every fifty yards or so I'd make my way down here to set up for a photo. It's amazing how the sense of hearing becomes heightened at such times. I've been in Florida for a while, so I've become familiar with some of the animal sounds. I also carefully scan the water and banks all around to ensure I'm not disturbing them. Alligators don't want anything to do with us, and if you're mindful and steer clear, there will never be a problem. With this knowledge and care, I spent much of my time on the lower path.

Rainbow Chair

Where there are rainbows, there must be rain. In Florida at this time of year, you can count on it every day. Look close, and you'll see the Sunshine Skyway Bridge under the rainbow. I used a wide angle lens, so the bridge seems far away. I took this about five years ago at Fort DeSoto Park. Looking at it now I wish I'd used a smaller aperture so the foreground would be sharper, but I like the photo anyway. Sometimes I try not to sweat the little stuff if I like the image. Technically the picture is a bit subpar, but I like the shot anyway, and in my mind, that's what counts.

Bradenton Causeway

The Bradenton causeway has advantages over the beach. You can park at the water's edge, and there aren't nearly as many rules. At this spot, you can generally see horses in the water. But I was here on a Monday, and they weren't. The causeway isn't fancy, but if you want to spend time at the water without the parking hassles, this is it. Many people prefer the beach with its powdery white sand. However, a lot of the locals come here. Just drive up, pull out a lawn chair and Bob's your uncle.

Lone Oak

Whenever I drive these roads, I have my eyes peeled for lone oaks. They add a natural aesthetic to the interior landscape of Florida. Much of the state is agricultural and along the highways are pastures with these massive trees. They provide shade for livestock and, lucky for me, are not shy about posing for photos. There is a theory in science that consciousness is present in all things. It's tricky to know what to make of that given our limited understanding of the subject. Nevertheless, it's hard not to feel the presence of something when standing near these great living creatures. It makes me wonder what we'll eventually learn through science and if, it will validate that sixth sense we sometimes have about certain things.

Path Metaphor

A winding path is a metaphor, but in photography, it's a leading line — kind of like a leading lady, only more mysterious. We are influenced by symbols all around us. For me, a leading line like this describes something to come or, returning home. Anyway, whenever I find something with direction, I look for ways to incorporate it into the scene so that it hopefully resonates at an emotional level. I took this photo inside Hillsborough River State Park, which is just north of Tampa. It is somewhat typical of the parks we have in Florida, lush, full of vegetation, and with lots of trails that lead to mysterious places. Metaphorically speaking that is.

Venice Visit

Here is a picture from the other day at the pier in Venice, Florida. Isn't it interesting how so many places are named after a city in Italy? I suppose it's no surprise; it just makes me wonder what we'll name places on Mars should we ever begin to colonize there. If there are no bodies of water, Venice may not be high on the list. You never know. These are the kinds of silly things I think about when I have nothing better to do.

Shop Local

I was somewhere off La Rambla watching other people shop. Not something I'm fond of, shopping that is. There are a lot of things I'm not fond of, but having a camera turns the most hated activity into an artistic endeavor. Like taking pictures of shoppers, suddenly I can go shopping with my wife and have a good time. But nowadays the only place it seems you can take photos of shoppers is in Europe. Here in the states, shopping is in a mall and the last time I took my camera, the mall cop and asked not to take photos. He said I could use a phone, but not a camera. If that doesn't sound ridiculous, I don't know what does.