fourpointedstar

A Good Story
I always love a good story; stories are what binds friendships and culture, and stories are what draw us to interesting people. As I walk through the woods on a new trail, I wonder where the trail will take me; what story will it tell?

The streams and rivers that I hike to are similar; they wander through the landscape carving out a path that meanders and reveals the area around it, much like a good story or a good trail. As you explore their journey, you find out so much about their story – the hills and valleys, the ancient stone and rock, the detours – much like life.

I absolutely loved this scene of the small stand of birch covered in moss. The fog was low that morning, and the grass was damp from an overnight rain. As our group walked through the woods, it felt like a forest in Washington State; damp air, big trees, uneven terrain – and then we encountered this neighborhood of white bark.

In between the large trees, the path was wide and somewhat straight; the path through the birch wandered almost lazily. I’ve taken photos of paths in woods many times, but many times the photo never gets shared. But this was a wonderful photo, and it pushed me to start looking for other paths on that three day trip.

Notice the Little Scenes:

One of the most difficult parts of a nature walk for me is not focusing on the destination. Often, I get so carried away with hiking that I forget to notice the beauty surrounding me; things like tiny mushrooms, plants, small scenes escape me because I am focussed on getting “there”.

When I’m hiking with a group, a different pressure comes up – I don’t want to hold the group back; of course, this isn’t as bad if I’m with a group of photographers. Then there is laziness; I don’t want to switch lenses, put on the filter, or move my camera bag so that I can squat down.

Often for me, photography is about putting the rest of life aside – the final goal, pressure from others, and my own bad habits – to actually focus on what’s around me. The beauty of a stream, a tiny new plant or ladybug, or even a overgrown, but still maintained cemetery.

I love the little highway scenes; the ones that make you do a U-turn. This little stream is probably only visible during the spring, when the grasses are short and the stream is flowing well. If you looked at a satellite view, the curves aren’t that dramatic, but by using a longer lens the distance compression really works in my favor.

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There is something mystical about this scene; the small light green leaves remind me of spring cherry blossoms, and the path leading through the forest reminds me of forests of the north west.

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Cynthia found this little ladybug (or ladybug like beetle) in the flotsam from Lake Superior’s waves; besides being cute, I wondered how it was already so active. That morning was chilly, around 45, and he was very close to the waves rolling on the beach, perhaps he’s a surfer?

Lastly, this cemetery is unlike any other gravesite that I’ve come across. The graves were mostly from the 1920-1950’s, and since then, the birch forest has grown in around the graves. But someone has continued to maintain the graves, and that feeling of “cemetery in the forest” is both comforting and creepy.

Back in November 2023, Side Street Studio Arts hosted a photo walk; each participant was supposed to pick a “challenge” for the day, so I took every photo at 200mm. I’ve already posted several of my photos, so make sure to check those photos out too.

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>other images<
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It’s no secret that I LOVE photographing light trails. I will visit the same spot OVER (January 2022) and OVER (January 2022) and OVER (April 2022) and OVER (November 2023) to see if I can get a NEW (November 2020), FRESH (January 2023), or INTERESTING (November 2023) photo.

But consistently I wonder, how can I create an image that challenges me this time – that presents a new challenge. At its core, capturing a light trail is just understanding how the light is moving and the exposure that’s need to not under or over-expose your image. So, how can I create an interesting composition with each visit?

What do you do when the light trails are from trains, when the pattern will only repeat over and over? The backdrop, scenery, and angle can change as seen in the two contrasting images: January 2021 & November 2023

How about if the space is tight and you’re below the action? Maybe you can lean on the really strong angles (November 2023) or depend on the architectural elements and allow the light trails to be an accent instead of the star of the show (also November 2023)? As it turns out, “Laser Bridge Light” (above) is one of my favorite compositions not just from that recent trip downtown, but also of light trails along the river.

And lastly, there are the images that challenge us compositionally and technically; here the balance of a very wide flat scene combined with the oncoming lights from traffic is more than I can conquer right now. I like this image better than my last attempt (November 2020); and I’ll be honest, previously, I have would have just not attempted to capture the image; but there is a much better image in that scene – I just have to find it.

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>alternate images<
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Back in 2023, I wanted to photograph the 4th of July fireworks, but not from the normal location on Chicago Street. So I found this little hole in the trees along the river. I nearly dropped my camera and tripod into the water because the hill was steep, but I really like the uniqueness of the photos.

…view older images with the thumbnails below…

Now this is exactly why I wanted a drone. I hovered over this particular creek as it enters the Fox River for at least 5 minutes, flying the drone to different compositions and then taking a photo. I love the colors, textures, and the winding creek at it flows through the center of the image.

…view older images with the thumbnails below…

It can often be difficult to convey a sense of scale, and while I love the pattern of this image, you can’t really tell the scale … until you notice the canoe in the lower right. And once you see the canoe, you can feel the power of a river that carried those logs downstream.

…view older images with the thumbnails below…

You can easily create a strong image by composing in a way that highlights a strong central focus, and when I thought of this image, my intent was to capture the unique roof of the Elgin Transportation Center. However, once overhead, the tilt of Chicago and Highland became the obvious centers of the image; I simply love how the railroad tracks, row buildings, and the transportation center give the basis for the roads to “lean” against.

…view older images with the thumbnails below…

I’m new to this – drone photography; but I already love it, I can make shapes and abstracts out of our surroundings. Since I have a small drone, there are limitations to height, so my original vision of a photo of all of Walton Island taken from directly overhead didn’t work out, but that’s part of photography; adapting to your limitations to capture a new scene.

…view older images with the thumbnails below…

…view older images with the thumbnails below…

…view older images with the thumbnails below…

…view older images with the thumbnails below…

…view older images with the thumbnails below…

Sometime we’ll make it back to Alpental in the spring, when there are several veil falls along the mountains… This is the view looking off of the bridge from the parking lot the resort lodge. I would estimate that it’s a 30foot drop and then the most beautiful and hidden stream you can imagine.

The hike down to see Snoqualmie Falls is not for the faint of heart, but you can park at the lower parking lot too. The views down in the canyon are worth the hike though! Just this segment of river would be noteworthy anywhere in the midwest, but in Washington? Just part of a minor river’s path.

As I looked over the other side of the bridge (from the previous photo), the colors and detail in the shoreline struck me. The water was so clear that it felt like you could see dozens of feet into the river. I love the balance of shoreline, saturated colors, underwater cliff, and the reflection of the forest in this image.

Sarah pointed out this view. We passed by this vantage point on the way west that day, so when we returned east, she asked me to photograph this portion of the river. I wish that I could have captured a train on the bridge, but that would almost ruin the view.

There’s something ancient and powerful about the angled shapes of these stones along the Vermillion River. The way they jut out into the air is an incredible reminder of the power of nature and geological forces and honestly such a beautiful sight.

Oh man, where to start? This was “the story” from this trip; I saw so many very cool waterfalls, but this one, this one was interesting to find. My only directions for this location were that you turned down this particular forestry/logging road, and then “when the road forks, take the right side; the left side is VERY muddy after it rains. Once you cross the bridge, there is a pull over on the right side…” Well, it had just rained, so as I started down the glorified two-tracker, I watched for the fork in the road.

As I drove along it got muddier and muddier, but my Traverse has all wheel drive, so I wasn’t too concerned. Then I crested a hill and there was a small pool of muddy water at the bottom. Since there were tire tracks through it already, I assumed that there wasn’t anything dangerous in the water and I proceeded down the hill, through the mud, and then up the hill. As I crested the other side, there was another depression with more mud but just a little bit wider with more mud. Over the next 3 or 4 hills, each mud hole was a bit deeper and a bit wider.

As I crossed the 6th or 7th hill, the valley below was less of a small pool or muddy water, and almost a pond. It was at this moment that it occurred to me; not only have I travelled farther then the guide indicated, but now I have to turn around and head back through all of those increasingly deep mud puddles that I just made ruts in. Using my genius intellect, I assumed that the best way to avoid being stuck was to go as fast as possible through the puddles. There was one puddle where I felt the rear wheels gripping, but not the front wheels; but in each mud puddle, the Traverse came through.

So how did I find the waterfall? As I drove back on the two-track, I saw the “bridge” … a series of railroad ties laid across the road that I’d missed because I was looking for the fork in the road first.

And yes, my wonderful white Traverse was a bit of a mess for the remainder of the trip. 🙂

I have 3 waterfall books that indicate that there is a waterfall or at least a larger rapids on this stream, and one of the books indicates that it is easy to reach. Without climbing down into the stream and then walking under the concrete culvert, I can’t tell if there is anything upstream. I also am VERY hesitant to walk upstream without knowing or seeing some indication that the land is still undeveloped at the least. So, this rapids/waterfall/something waits for another trip.

As I crested the hill so that I could see the rapids behind, I was literally awestruck by the view of Tyler Forks Dells Upper Falls. I gasped something like “that’s incredible!” as the scene came into view. The guide that I had stated “a series of small rapids forming an S curve”, but did NOT prepare me for how beautiful the Upper Falls are. The falls at the rear of the image are probably 200-250 feet away, which provides you with a sense of how expansive this view is. Although, you can’t tell it in this monochrome, the pops or orange leaves on the dark rocks, the yellow foaming water, and the sunlight illuminating the far side of the river added to beauty.

As I walked up from the lower falls which were not very impressive but were very easy to get to; I realized that the land was increasing in height but the river was not. And as this break in the stone cliff came into view, I could tell that Tyler Forks Dells might be quite the sight. But first I had to cross this rock wall that was maybe 15 or 20 feet high.

Upson Falls tumbles over the cascade of rocks and immediately makes a sharp right turn downriver. That sharp turn allows for this spectacular view with the sun rising “up river” and the wonderfully rich hues of morning.

The Keweenaw Peninsula does not have much land area for large rivers to form, and this is reflected in some of the waterfalls. Manganese Falls is a very steep fall, but the stream is only 10-12 inches wide.

Silver River Falls is another very accessible waterfall. Michigan Highway 26 crosses over the Silver River and there is information describing the falls and the bridge along with some parking. However, Silver River Falls isn’t one cascade; it is a series of several small cascades spread along a few hundred feet of the Silver River. This photo was taken 150 feet or so down the river and there were more cascades further downriver as well.

As you climb up the hill beside Jacob’s Falls, the question may cross your mind: “does this all count as one waterfall?” And that is a question that I have wondered many times; how much of a stream’s length must exist between cascades of water before they are considered distinct falls?