I have this place I go to take pictures but I go there so often that in the back of my head I think I'm repeating myself. But with the sky on fire like this, how could I possibly repeat anything? I could come here every day of the year and the images would be different; which is not so much my doing as that of mother nature herself. The display of clouds changes completely from one day to the next.
As a photographer who is interested in art I think about these things a lot. I think about scenes and what they mean. I try to extract a little perspective. It's an exercise in self discovery because to interpret something as abstract as an image of clouds requires imagination, vocabulary and some self awareness. And therein lies the heart of the matter.
Self awareness is about as ephemeral an idea as they come. But I find just a little bit goes a long way. That's because the ideas and thoughts about self awareness are best described in metaphors. Bingo, images make good metaphors. So if you think about it, we're not interpreting the image, rather ourselves through the image. So, in the case the this sky, it's really just a metaphor for something within.
Put that in your pipe and smoke it.
I visited the Hubbard Glacier on a cruise over the summer. We arrived in the morning and the first thing I noticed was a sound like thunder as the ice breaks off the edge of the glacier. I've seen plenty of pictures but the noise that accompanies it something unexpected when first there.
To be honest I was found it difficult to get a sense of scale. We were about a kilometer away from the wall of ice which was taller than the ship. Our ship rose about thirteen stories above the water. So when these columns of ice broke off it created massive waves. I felt safe because we were a far enough back and we were in a big boat. But I cannot imagine traveling through here on a small craft.
Of course much of the ice is below the surface. That too gave me pause and again I was glad to be on such a large ship. Just sailing into this area we grazed chunks of ice as big as a house. I suppose ice that size is of little consequence to a large ship, but I shudder to think how a small vessel could ever navigate here.
We stayed here for a few of hours to observe the glacier. I was glad that we had an experienced captain who knew the area. I'm sure he sails here all the time, but it was a first for me and even as a passenger I found it a little unnerving. Having said that, once we returned to the open sea I felt a little less concerned. I was left with an impression of this massive field of ice, it is beautiful, spell binding and not to be trifled with. This is the raw force of nature in all its glory.
This is from the other day when we had a full moon that set within minutes of the sunrise. For me, a full moon rising or setting is just as captivating as a sunset. But of course sunsets are easier since they happen every day. For a full moon you have to look up and remember the date, know the time when it rises and then hope there are no clouds. All these conditions combine to ensure I almost never capture it, ...save for the other day. The weatherman on TV mentioned it would be good viewing which prompted me to get off the couch and get outside.
In order to make the moon look large I used a telephoto lens. I'm standing by a bridge pointing west as the moon was just about to set. Below it is three other bridges; the first is a train bridge, the second is a car bridge, and the third is the original bridge built over hundred years ago thats now a fishing pier. The telephoto lens makes them appear stacked and close together yet there is a good deal of distance between the first two bridges.
Now that I managed to get a full moon I think I want to do it again. I just looked it up and the next full moon is on September 16th 2016. The moon will rise just after sunset (where I live in central Florida). In that case I'll be pointing east so I have plenty of time to think about a composition. Hopefully the weather will be good. Now the wait begins.