“River Applecross” — Spring-green trees line the River Applecross, Scotland.
Trees, much less groves or forests, are a bit of a rarity in much of the Scottish Highlands, at least compared to what we might expect in similar mountain country in the Western United States. Much of the highlands landscape is devoid of trees, and when they appear they are scatted in small groups… or part of tree farms. So it was a very pleasant surprise to arrive on the coast near Applecross and see these lush, green trees next to the River Applecross.
“Woman With Blue Bags, Alfama” — A woman carrying heavy blue bags walks along past weathered buildings along a curving Alfama street, Lisbon.
This photograph is a result of one of the quick, unexpected encounters that occur when doing street photography. Sometimes they happen so fast that there is hardly time to photograph. This one was brief, but not so quick that I couldn’t make a couple of photographs.
“Alfama Laundry” — Laundry hung by entry door and stairs, Alfama.
I know. Laundry hanging above urban homes in foreign cities is more than a bit of a cliche. I’ll try to minimize it, but sometimes I cannot resist. Here it is really more about the wild range of colors in the photograph, from that laundry to the colorful overhead streamers above the lane, and the contrast with the other less-colorful surroundings.
“Morning Shadows and Symmetry” — The line between morning light and shadow descends a talus slope toward a lake, revealing mirror image symmetries.
Getting out of your tent before dawn isn’t easy when it is cold and dark outside and you have to leave a warm sleeping bag. But if you don’t rise early you miss some of the most sublime moments of the day in the high country. And, I promise, once you are up and about you’ll be glad that you made the effort.
On this morning it was almost too dark to photograph when I unzipped the tent, and for the first half hour or longer I photographed in the soft blue hour light. Eventually the first direct sunlight touched peaks high above me and gradually worked its way down the steep slopes toward “my” lake. (At about the time I made this photograph, my non-photographer backcountry partners were starting to awaken in their tents on the peninsula at the right.)
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