Loading dock doors of a brick industrial building in Chelsea, New York City.
I made this photograph on my last morning in New York City in late August, when we visited a side street with many galleries in Chelsea. This is in an area, as I understand it, that has been shifting from more or less industrial to galleries and other more “trendy” endeavors now that the High Line park has, along with other developments, made the area more attractive.
As we walked out of (or was it into?) a doorway across the street, the “SHAFTWAY” sign on the green door caught my attention. As I look at the photograph more now I see a number of other things in it that intrigue me that I wasn’t fully aware of when I made the exposure.
Spring lupine blossoms grow on fog-shrouded slopes of Mission Peak above Fremont, California.
While doing a major review of the past half-dozen years of raw files this week I have come across quite a few photographs that I had more or less forgotten. (I’ve also deleted a lot of old raw files, but that is a different story.) While I had forgotten this photograph, I remember the day I took it quite well and the memory of the photograph came back as soon as I found it.
Mission Peak is more than 2000′ feet above the Mission San Jose (part of Fremont) area of the San Francisco Bay Area, in the East Bay a bit north of San Jose. The peak is a very popular hiking location due to its proximity to urban areas, its quick access to near-wilderness, and the fact the summit provides a spectacular view of the southern parts of the San Francisco Bay, ranging from the South Bay and the Santa Cruz Mountains all the way up to San Francisco and, on clear days, beyond. On this day it was not clear, at least not at the start of the hike – it was extremely foggy, quite wet, and rather cold. But anyone who photographs flowers much knows that soft and diffused light can be your friend, and this fog certainly provided that light. The fog-obscured hills beyond are covered in the intense green (what I call the “impossible green”) of the California grasslands in spring.
By the way, I recall that as I continued on up the trail past these flowers and approached the summit of the peak I emerged above the fog bank to find hillsides carpeted with more lupine and with California golden poppy flowers.
Dramatic thunderstorms begin to build above Owens Valley, flanked by the White Mountains and the eastern Sierra Nevada range.
If there is any good news about starting to run out of space on my hard drive, it might be that it encourages me to begin the process of reviewing my tens of thousands of archived raw image files, and that leads me to look through files that I haven’t revisited in a long time – and during this process I find photographs that I had forgotten about. Not only is it worthwhile to rediscover these photographs that ended up buried in the archive, but it is also a chance to recall some of the trips on which the photographs were made.
This photograph is yet another (of many!) that wouldn’t have happened at all if it were not for a whole unpredictable series of events and circumstances. I’ll make the story as short as I can, but it is still a bit involved. Almost every summer I share a long pack trip with a group of my friends. In 2005 we had come up with a 14-day trip along a good portion of the John Muir Trail between roughly the Ediza Lake area and Bishop Pass, which included one of the very few sections of the JMT that I had not hiked. We started at Agnew Meadow, headed up past Shadow Lake, turned south on the JMT, stopped at Reds Meadow, continued on to the Duck and Purple Lakes area… where I started to feel like I might be coming down with some sort of bug. Discretion being the better part of valor and all that, I decided that the prudent thing was to bail out of the trip and exit to Mammoth Lakes since the idea of getting sick on the fourth day of a 14-day hike with a large group was not appealing.
So I hiked out. Ironically, once I crossed the pass to head down to the Mammoth area, I recovered – but it was now too late to rejoin my group since they would be two days ahead of me on the trail at this point. Since I was back at my car now and feeling just fine I figured that I might as well do something else before heading home, so I decided to drive up into the White Mountains and visit the Bristlecone Pine forest. On the way back down from the Whites I just happened to pull out at this spot where the high desert terrain was extra green around a creek, on an afternoon when monsoon conditions were leading to a buildup of afternoon clouds above the Sierra, the Whites, and Owens Valley between the two ranges.
The still early morning surface of an unnamed subalpine lake reflects the boulders and trees along its rocky shoreline, Yosemite National Park.
This is yet another of those little places in Yosemite that is both surprisingly accessible and surprisingly neglected. Since keeping it that way may be a good thing, I’ll refrain from locating it more specifically than to say that it is along the Tioga Pass Road through the park.
I have photographed here before, and I am intrigued by the good-sized granite boulders along the shoreline and out into the water of this shallow lake surrounded by forest. Because of the surrounding terrain, morning light does not reach down to th lake right away, so I was able to shoot in this soft and indirect light and include both some details in the shadows of the forest and their beautifully blurred reflections in the still surface of the water.
The photograph includes one indication of what an unusual year this has been in the high country. The horizontal white area beyond the shoreline trees at the left side of the frame is a melting snow bank. Normally that might not be a big deal, but this photograph was made near the very end of July. It is a very unusual year when we can still find snow at this elevation near the beginning of August!
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Photographer and visual opportunist. Daily photos since 2005, plus articles, reviews, news, and ideas.
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