Posts in Category: river
Big Bend on Branch Brook: Winter
This is a slightly mind-bending panorama that you really need to view as large as your monitor or screen will allow. Click on the image to open it in the lightbox on WideEyedInWonder, auto-sized for your display. It is just about a full 180 degrees. You can see two ends of the same straight rail sticking out about 1/6 of the way in from each corner. Though the perspective looks natural when stitched together like this, you would have to relax your vision, or at least your attention, to see this in real life. It could be done if you are one of those people who can process your peripheral vision without falling over. 🙂
It is 4 fames, each frame an In-camera HDR, stitched in PhotoShop Elements 11’s PhotoMerge tool, and then final processed in Lightroom. I shot it off my Fat Gecko walking-about tripod.
Canon SX50HS. Four overlapping 24mm equivalent field of view frames. Recorded exif: f8 @ 1/500th @ ISO 80.
Rachel Carson in the Snow: Happy Sunday!
Last Sunday, when I went out to photograph the fresh snow that fell on Saturday and through the night, they had not plowed out the Rachel Carson National Wildlife Refuge Headquarters drive, so I did not get in for any images there. By yesterday, the Rachel Carson trails were packed down by cross-country skiers, snowshoers, and just plain hikers in snow boots, to the point where I could have walked them in my furry winter Crocs and come back dry.
This is one of my favorite views at Rachel Carson, looking down on the junction of Branch Brook and the Merriland River to form the Little River for the final run to the sea. I have pictures taken here in every season and in many different lights. It is always beautiful.
Here I like the crystalline character of the light. I like the reflections of the trees in the open water of the river. The Merriland is tidal here, and regular infusions of salt water keep the ice fragile enough so that it breaks on every tide. I like the band of low clouds over the sea, the leading lines of the stream, and the natural framing of the landscape. Chill, but beautiful.
This is an In-camera HDR, taken at about 56mm equivalent field of view with the help of my lightweight Fat Gecko tripod. Recorded exif: f7.1 @ 1/500th @ ISO 80. Processed in Lightroom for intensity, clarity, and sharpness using my HyperReal preset.
And for the Sunday Thought: It is my hope, that when you look at the photograph above, it carries some of the wonder, and some of the joy…some of the delight that I experience in a day like like yesterday. I hope that it just a little window into my sense of awe before the Creator. Taking it and sharing it is both an act of worship, and the necessary-to-life-itself exercise of the Creative Spirit that lives in my by faith. It is not a perfect picture. If I look closely I can see all kinds of short-comings where I have pushed up against the limits of what the technology I have chosen to work with can do. I hope that those short-falls are buried deep enough so that they do not detract from the experience. Which is, of course, my hope for my self, and for my life…that there is enough of the glory of Creation in my face and in my going so that I am a reason for delight (even when not quite a thing of beauty 🙂
Happy Sunday!
Kennebunk River in Snow
This stretch of the Kennebunk River, behind Roger’s Pond, is excellent trout water. They have a fly-casting derby here every summer. It looks a little different after two good December snows. I like the shadows on the snow here, as well as the contrasting strong diagonals of the dark water and the white, snow-coated trees.
Another In-camera HDR from the Canon SX50HS. 24mm equivalent field of view. Recorded exif: f4 @ 1/1000th @ ISO 80. Processed in Lightroom for intensity, clarity, and sharpness.
Winter Waters: Kennebunk River
Another attempt, out early, to capture the cold beauty of fresh snow in Southern Maine. Here the clinging snow is contrasted with the swift waters of the Kennbunk River at the Roger’s Pond access.
This is another In-camera HDR, and you can see the slight blurring of the water due to the three exposures.
Canon SX50HS in HDR Mode. 110mm equivalent field of view. Recorded exif: f5 @ 1/400th @ ISO 80. I shot the three exposures off my Fat Gecko, 1 pound, carbon fiber, shock-corded tripod, and, as you see, it was plenty steady enough even at the longer focal length.
Processed in Lightroom for intensity, clarity, and sharpness.
Kennebunk River in the Snow
We had a brief few hours of good light between fronts yesterday morning, after a night of heavy snow that clung, so I got out and did a tour of likely spots. The wind was coming up fast, and with the sun and that wind I knew the clinging winter-wonderland snow on the pines and spruces would not last long. You can see that the wind cutting across the top of the Kennebunk River bed had already dumped the snow from the tall spruces.
I took my Fat Gecko carbon-fiber, shock-corded tripod with me, intending to try some In-camera HDRs in the snow. Snow Scene Mode on the Canons SX50HS does really well keeping the highlights in the snow within bounds, but with a lot of sun on the snow, the greens go dark…losing most of their color. HDR produces a file that can be processed to show good values in the snow and keep the green in the greens! In this shot it also kept the water from going black. (Note: the In-camera HDR of the Canon SX50HS is not the overcooked, somewhat surreal, HDR that is often offered as examples of HDR processing. It is a gentle, natural extension of the apparent contrast range that produces very natural looking images.)
The only thing is, since the camera takes three images for every one, and then processes in-camera, a tripod is really needed. The Fat Gecko works well, and adds less than a pound to my kit. It is not a conventional tripod at all…the legs are shock-cored like tent poles, so they fold up rather than slide into each other. When you shake them out, the shock-cord pulls them together semi-automatically. It is easier to do than to explain. The carbon fiber legs and a small ball head provide a platform stable enough for HDR without the weight of a conventional tripod.
Canon SX50HS set for In-camera HDR. 35mm equivalent field of view. Recorded exif: f4 @ 1/500th @ ISO 80. Processed in Lightroom for intensity, clarity, and sharpness.
White River (really)
On the way out from Seattle to Mt Rainier National Park and Sunrise, I drove for miles along the White River. There were precious few spots where it was safe to stop for a view of the river, but there were pull-outs at both ends of Federation Forest State Park. This shot looks vaguely east toward Chinook Pass.
The “white” in White River, and the odd look to the river in the image, comes from fine particles of clay suspended in the rushing water. It makes a difference from the tannin tea colored brook waters and crystal clear mountain streams of the east (and the Rockies for that matter).
There was no avoiding the haze in the air, which solidified almost to mist over the darker trees up river, but it is still, as I see it, a wonderful mountain scene.
Canon SX50HS. Program with iContrast and –1/3EV exposure compensation. About 58mm equivalent field of view. f4.5 @ 1/800th @ ISO 160. Processed in Lightroom for intensity, clarity, and sharpness. I also used a Graduated Filter Effect from the top to increase clarity in the mountains slightly.
Yellow Fisherman in the Fall
It has rained every day for the past 4 days. We got a glimpse of the sun yesterday before it socked back in, but it has been pretty dreary. We are approaching what should be the height of fall color, but the weather is just not cooperating. On Sunday afternoon, I grabbed my camera and an umbrella and drove out to Old Falls on Mousam River, pretty much in desperation. It looks like the milder rainy weather is actually delaying the full turn of the leaves. I would say Old Falls has another two weeks of color to show, at least. Unfortunately I leave on Friday for a 9 day trip to the west coast and Virginia. :( (Of course I will make the most of the trip…but I do hate to miss peak colors in New England.)
On Sunday, in very subdued late afternoon light, I found this fisherman all in yellow raingear along the Mousam above the falls. It started to rain as soon as I pressed the shutter…and I was wet before I got back to the car. Still it is, I think, an interesting shot. This is one that will benefit from a lager view. Click the image to open it on SmugMug in the light box.
Canon SX40HS. Program with iContrast and –1/3EV exposure compensation. About 130mm equivalent field of view. f4.5 @ 1/80th @ ISO 320. Processed in Lightroom for intensity, clarity, and sharpness.
September Skies. Happy Sunday!
I have posted two other shots taken under this magnificent September sky, both featuring ponds and reflections of the sky and the first fall color. This was taken just up the road from the ponds, where Rt 9 crosses the Mousam River. I love the drama of the heavy clouds over the landscape, and the line of the river and the fall touched trees running at a slight diagonal across. I like the way the small pool anchors the marsh in the foreground.
Unless you want to shoot sea-scapes, there are only three places within easy drive of my home to catch a big sky. You can go to Laudholm Farm and shoot from the crest of the hill above the farm buildings, or you can go the the Kennebunk Plains, or you can go here to this view up-river on the Mousam. This view has the most potential because you can always play with the marsh and the river to add interest to the foreground, and balance the sky somewhat. But of course a shot like is really all about the sky! September skies.
Canon SX40HS. Program with iContrast and –1/3EV exposure compensation. 24mm equivalent field of view. f5.6 @ 1/1250th @ ISO 160. Processed in Lightroom for intensity, clarity, and sharpness…using my hyper-real preset to bring up the full range of light values in the image.
And for the Sunday Thought: Every photographer struggles with the simple fact that the technology we work with is simply not capable of capturing or displaying the full range of light we see with our eyes. Digital sensors have improved dramatically, and the best of them, coupled with some automatic in-camera processing, do a very good job of stretching what can be recorded…to the the point where we now can catch a range that was impossible in the days of film. And, with some work in post processing, we can turn that digital data into a representation of reality that, when viewed on our LCD monitors, gives the impression of catching the full range of light that we would see if we were standing before the view in the flesh. But it is still only an impression. The range of light and dark is still considerably compressed. It is a rendering of reality, not reality itself.
And yet it is very satisfying. So satisfying that almost no one, beyond photographers themselves (and maybe some artists) is aware of the compression. A good digital image, correctly captured and intelligently processed for display on an LCD monitor looks amazingly real. When a photograph is well done today, the average viewer will see something very like what the photographer saw in landscape and the sky…and share something very like the same experience. For all it limitations, digital imaging works.
So is there a spiritual side to this?
I don’t think any human being, bound as we apparently are, in time, can come close to capturing or displaying the eternal reality that is present to us in the spirit. There is a light that is love, and love that is light. There is a landscape of unending possibility, with wonder moving up over the horizon like clouds in a September sky. Like the digital imaging of light, our ability to express the light of the spirit, the landscape of the spirit, is limited by the technology. We are the technology. We are too small to hold it all. The best we can do is to capture a compressed range of what we experience in the spirit and process it through our lives to present, and to share, our best rendering.
And the wonder is that it can be so good, so satisfying. I can’t give you September skies over the reach of the Mousam…but if I try, if I do my best with the technology I have, I can come close. I can’t give you the infinite love that is the light of the eternal landscape, but if I try, if I do my best with what I have, I might come close.
There might even be a bit of that eternal light caught in these words and in this image of September skies!
Dog on the edge of Autumn. Happy Sunday!
Despite the weather app, which called for a partially sunny day all yesterday, it rained in the morning and we did not see any sun at all until after 2 in the afternoon. Even then, the coast was still under the cloud layer, so I headed inland to Old Falls on the Mousam River…hoping for dragonflies and maybe a touch of fall color.
Old Falls is my classic Autumn shot…with the rushing white water in the foreground and generally a smooth expanse of reflective water behind, receding into the flaming maples and the dark green pines. With the right sky, it is spectacular, and I will certainly get back the over the next few weeks to try to catch the colors at their peek (and the right sky :).
Yesterday though was special in its own way. Though the trees are just beginning to turn, there was enough color to make it interesting. I parked and walked across the road to stand at the rail of the bridge over the Mousam for a picture, and there was this dog there, swimming in the water. As I watched, it climbed out and walked to the end of a point of rock and stood, or eventually sat, and watched the river flowing by. It must live in the house above the river on that side. It looked perfectly at home, and it was certainly unattended. No one was throwing sticks in the water for it to fetch. It was just there, right were it needed to be for my images.
I have several different shots, with alternative framing. You will probably see at least one more as the week goes on.
Canon SX40HS. Program with iContrast and –1/3EV exposure compensation. About 280mm equivalent field of view. f5 @ 1/200th @ ISO 200. Processed in Lightroom for intensity, clarity, and sharpness. More than usual work on balancing the light for best effect. Cropped slightly at the bottom for composition.
And for the Sunday Thought.
A couple of things actually. Shots like this continuously remind me of how dependent I am, as a photographer, on circumstance for my best images. I don’t say chance. I don’t believe in chance. If such encounters, such circumstances, are intended, then certainly our response must be thankfulness…even as we enjoy them. I nearly laughed out loud when I saw the dog there, framed in the first reflections of autumn foliage, perfect on his rock. I mean, what a gift!
I feel it every time I go out to take pictures, but, of course, the intention behind my photographic encounters must operate in every circumstance of my life. Sometimes that is harder to remember (and harder to appreciate).
Then too, I think that each photographic encounter, intentional as it is, is only as good as I make it. The dog, the foliage, the flowing water, the rock were all a gift. The images I made of them, and my sharing them with you, are my gift back…the tangible expression of my appreciation. The images depend on how well I respond to the circumstance. When I do well, and that is affirmed by the response of others to the images, then that just increases my thankfulness. It is a privilege to part of the intention…for in the end…the intention was not to show me the dog on the rock in the river framed in fall reflections…but to show how I saw it to you. It is all the gift. It is all a single flowing act of creation.
And now I am thinking how it might change my life if I could see every circumstance that way…if my first thought was, “What can I do with this to show my appreciation and make it a gift to others?” What if every interaction with the world around me were as intentionally creative as my photography? Words spoken at the checkout at the grocers. Every conversation on every car ride. Every trip to the post office or the mail box. Every phone call received and every ppt written for work. What if I could see every circumstance of my life as part of the flow of creation: see the gift in every encounter, turn it to gift of my own, and pass it on.
I think that might be what it means to be a saint. I have a ways to go yet, myself, but I see the possibility, in a dog on a rock in the river surrounded by autumn color and light.
Under the Kennebunk Bridge
As I may have mentioned before, my active search for an American Ruby-spot in York County has taken me places I would not otherwise go. For instance, I have crossed the bridge north of Kennebunk, where Route 1 goes over the Kennebunk River, thousands of times…multiple thousands of times…but I have never even thought to stop and climb down to the river to see what is under the bridge.
No American Ruby-spots unfortunately, but some interesting rapids and small falls where there evidently once, a long time ago, was a dam. I suspect there might have been a mill there back in the water-power days…that, or I am mistaking old bridge abutments for a dam.
I have done a bit more editing on this shot than normal. It got my usual “Processed in Lightroom for intensity, clarity, and sharpness.” but then I took into PhotoShop Elements for a bit of work with the clone tool to remove a set of power-lines that stretched across the sky and through the trees.
Canon SX40HS. Program with iContrast and –1/3EV exposure compensation. 24mm equivalent field of view. f4 @ 1/1250th @ ISO 200.