Searching For the Image

I used to drive a lot. To and from work was over an hour each way. The way to work was usually filled with mentally planning my day and podcasts. But the way home was usually a slog. I just wanted to hurry up and get home. But one day after a particularly long day, I relaxed my eyes and let the lights of the west-bound traffic hypnotize me. That gave me the impetus to try and capture the dazzle of long drives home after dusk.

This long-exposure photograph captures the colorful and dynamic light trails taken from my car along I-70 in Maryland.

These long drives home allowed me to experiment with extended shutter speeds ranging from 30 seconds to 30 minutes in length, which gave stationary and moving lights—like westbound headlights and taillights —to create graceful streaks across the image.

What started as a way to pass the time, turned into a creative example of how long-exposure photography can transform everyday scenes into dynamic art.

Another Idea Worth Following

The Western Fissure

See that bright spot spitting smoke in Kilauea Volcano? That the active fissure supplying Halemaʻumaʻu lava lake.

Some friends and are were planning a trip to Hawaii in October of 2021. Not long before it was time to hop on the plane, we discovered that Kilauea Volcano in Volcanoes National Park had just gone from dormant to active. Well, that should make things a bit more exciting, we thought.

It’s always been a bucket list item to fly over an active volcano, so naturally, we booked a helicopter ride over the volcano as soon as we could.

The flight above the volcano (and the surrounding area) was fascinating. We flew above macadamia nut farms. We saw the runaway lava formations from active volcanoes of the past that slowly wiped out entire neighborhoods. And of course, we saw a tiny spec of a fissure of the volcano’s surface that was the active part of the volcano.

Admittedly, the view from above (Seen in the image above titled “The Western Fissure”) wasn’t exactly Earth-shattering. But it was still pretty cool in its own right.

The next day though, after exploring all over the island, we decided to take a trip up to Volcanoes National Park.

As we were pulling into the park’s parking lot, the sun was setting. And we noticed people getting out of their cars and putting on thick Canadian Goose jackets. Last time we checked, it was about 80 degrees, so that seemed weird…Until we opened the car doors.

As dusk set, the winds picked up. And we realized T-shirts and shorts were not the best ensemble for the quick trek to the volcano’s outer rim. But hey, we came this far. And high winds and 40-degree temperatures weren’t gonna stop us from seeing what we came for. So we bundled up in our sandy beach towels and took the 15-minute walk to the edge of the volcano.

As you can see from the image above, the tiny fissure was a long ways down. But at night, it was still bright enough to light up the skies and give the sense that something was lurking down below. We chased what what admittedly a goofy idea, and found something grand…Something that reminded us of just how volatile and powerful the Earth can be.

Maybe It Didn’t Really Happen…

I’m lucky enough to live near Rocky Mountain Arsenal Wildlife Refuge. And I take a trip out there at least once a month. But during the winter, I make a beeline for it every time it snows.

Now, I’m a sucker for the opportunity to capture pictures of just about any animal in their habitat, but I’m especially drawn to bison. Their bulky build, curved horns and dark, shaggy coat capture my imagination. But being able to watch them forage around in the contrasting colors of a bright snowy day really accentuates their power and prestige…Usually.

On this given day, the sun was bright, and reflecting off of the snow with a special kind of intensity. I took several shots to try and capture what I was seeing, but everything was wildly over exposed, except for the bison, which was essentially a black Rorschach test blot. The two extremes were poised against me and the ability to get the image I wanted. So I got creative and decided to just do it in post.

I opened up my exposure all the way, tried to manually focus as best I could, and fired off a few clicks of the shutter before looking at the digital display. The result was akin to what someone with snow blindness would see. Just white as far as the eye could see with various degrees smudges running through the image.

When I got home, I dropped the image into Lightroom to see what I could salvage. A few tweaks here, a few slides of some settings there, and I was able to recreate what I actually saw at Rocky Mountain Arsenal Wildlife Refuge…At least I think so…The memory isn’t quite as reliable as it used to be.

Nonetheless, this image of a bison standing in a snowy field, showing off its thick coat, contrasted with the bright environment it had been foraging in (as seen around its mouth) in exactly the way I was hoping for.

Sure this probably wouldn’t pass the sniff test over at National Geographic, but it was still a win for me. Whenever I need a reminder of the rugged resilience of wildlife in winter, I just look at this image that I think emphasizes the beauty and the starkness of nature.

…But Sometimes It Does

I forget what year it was. But some friends and I decided to head down to New River Gorge in West Virginia to get some rock climbing over Labor Day Weekend.

The conditions were perfect. But I don’t think I got in more than a couple climbs the whole weekend. I might have been intimidated by the other climbers that were all technically light years better than me. I might have been nursing another back injury. (But I doubt that was the case. I recall sleeping blissfully in my tent the whole weekend.) But whatever the case, I was much ore interested in carrying around my camera and waiting for something to happen.

Rock climbing pictures from below are usually pretty boring. But a quick trip to Summersville Lake to deep water solo really got my creative juices flowing.

High above the water, some folks had tethered a long slackline across jutting peaks. I watched in amazement as person after person managed to navigate their way across it. In my head, it was hundreds of feet above the water. In reality, a little less than that. But I still marveled at their ability to walk across that bouncy line while remembering all the times I’ve nearly dislocated my shoulder from just a foot or so off the ground while practicing.

After countless made their way across, the line eventually came down, and the deep water soloists got all of my attention.

Now, watching a bunch of people work their way 5.7 or so climbing isn’t particularly interesting, but watching them fall can be. And watching them leap off the 70-foot cliff really is.

I got a bunch of fun pics over that long weekend. But this was by far my favorite.

I watched him at the top of the cliff. He was ramping up the will to make the leap for only a few seconds. And then like a bird he leapt into the unknown, casually spinning head over heels as if there were nothing more natural in the world.

I don’t know who this brave soul is, but my hats off to you for both your courage, and making my weekend a bit more interesting!