Saturday roadtrip to the greener side of the fence.
Bainbridge to Seattle
A rather warm but windy Spring day ferry ride from Bainbridge to Seattle, shot on Fujifilm X100VI.
Handheld long exposures
Early Spring evening with heavy storm clouds moving across the sky to the west barring any possibility of a grand sunset, and ruins of old boardwalk and pier in the foreground - I wished I had brought my tripod to this day. But wait... this camera I was carrying not only had a built in ND filter but also a rock solid IBIS allowing one to take longer than sub seconds exposures. As someone who grew up taking long exposure photographs at night in the wilderness, shooting handheld was quite the breakthrough in terms of experience.
Mr. Blue Sky
The winter does not give away without a fight. Early Spring storms bring an intriguing mix of storm and sunny weather in the Pacific Northwest, and promises of warmer days ahead.
East of the Cascades
Tulips
Every year I tell myself to not go back to the tulips farm and every year I go back.
Plants
I love photographing columns of sunlight percolating through thick vegetation and illuminate plants and their characteristics near ground. It reminds me of the very different tropical and sub-tropical forests in the place where I lived twenty years ago.
The first species in kingdom Plantae appeared about 1200 million years ago in water and complex plants appeared just 200 million years afterwards. First members of animal kingdom appeared after another 400 million years down the timeline.
Snohomish in Spring Sun
It’s really beautiful here in the Pacific Northwest when it is not raining.
Shot on Kentmere Pan 100 film.
Seattle in the Sun
Weekday in Marymoor
Over the hills and far away
The Memorial Day long weekend of 2022 was unnaturally cold and wet, even east of the Cascades. While we braved two nights in camping, took these photographs across the Upper Cascades as we drove around in search of dry weather.
I have to admit - I love to take photos under an overcast sky, and with waterproof/weatherproof gear, could care less about the rain…
Diablo lake was not milky teal but those clouds hugging the mountains across the water was a treat for the few folks who stopped by the famed vista point in this weather.
On the other side of the pass the sky was still not blue but the rain became thinner and the air drier. As we lost altitude, started noticing beautiful spotted white trunks of birch trees and lush spring green leaves filling the gaps in between the trunks.
Our final stop was a ghost town in the Far East and North. Still cloudy and occasional rain kept us indoors/in the car but I managed to take a few photographs when it was dry.
End of spring
Second spring amidst a global pandemic but with less unknowns and variables compared to the last one, pushed me to revisit places I’ve not seen for a long time, places that would have otherwise been on the B list.
Here’s to the end of spring, brace yourself for long and warm days ahead.
The lust for nightscape scenery
“Nocturnal (and some deep sea) animals have tapetum lucidum, a tissue layer in the back of the eye that reflects light back through the retina, doubling the amount of light available for it to capture, but reducing the sharpness of the focus of the image. We humans do not have this reflective layer in our eyes.”
Even though the moon had long gone behind the horizon we could “perceive” the objects in the foreground under starlight. The reflection of the stars danced on the minuscule waves on the lake surface, the kayak was not prominent but the red PFDs glowed in the little light that was available (long wavelength of red render it a lot more perceivable than other colors in low light) but I was determined to set up the camera to capture this unplanned photograph.
The trip was almost over we were heading back home by that time, we were on Highway 20 driving west towards civilization when I recalled stopping at this lake years ago for a cosplay photoshoot. Always wanted to come back after dark, the kayak was a bonus.
The invisible fence
We were at the top of the canyon trail looking over a bend in Rio Grande separating Mexico from the US, waiting for the sunset when a horse rider appeared on the American side of the river slowly making his way to the trailhead below us.
It turned out he was an artist from the other side who had left his creations in several spots across the border, where visitors can buy with cash, and was making rounds to collect the money. As he passed us on the trail as he came up I waved at him and said “hi” with a smile and he smiled back and waved. I wanted to have a conversation with him if he was not in a hurry although he might not even speak English. I was curious and interested to know his daily life making rounds across the invisible fence making a living by selling creative artifacts to American tourists.
An unfinished story I would love to finish someday, perhaps.
The Pacific
My limited knowledge about states of matter tells me it is improbable however, the wind from the ocean feels salty, it extracts moisture on contact. This is why I never liked the salty ocean. But wide open skies for dawn or dusk is rare to find when you live by the mountains.
A petrified face
When I stared at this suspiciously human like face carved into new earth (from a volcanic eruption 1.5 million years ago), did not think of the probability it might have been carved by man.
Beached boat
Springtime in the northwest enabling me discovering new places and things to photograph
Ducks and a river
The rain felt awkwardly strange as if it was rare for there were very few people on the trail.