Category: Nikon D3x

Dark, grey afternoons…

For all the misery and inconveniences really bad weather creates, storms have a unique appeal to me. They are fascinating creations. In the most dire of circumstances the devastation they leave behind is nothing short of incomprehensible, humbling and frightening.

On the other hand, bad weather has a way of fine tuning me to a mode that captures and enables the ephemeral: in one moment, a gentle falling rain suddenly becomes heavy, rampant, even vindictive in the force and quantity of water that dowses everything.

No sooner than the rain pummels the landscape, the water is then swept away, transitioned to a drizzle that moves ahead of a foggy veil suspended just behind the now gentle shower. I think of the various weather possibilities as moods, from the bright sunny days [hope, optimism, gratitude, e.g.] to the dull grey of a threatening sky ready to let loose its worse [depression, angst, regret, e.g.]. Weather figuratively produces such an array of moods.

Dark, grey afternoons carry a weight [wind, water, ice, snow, heat et al] that can lay to waste your surroundings as well as your inner landscape. Yet when I pick up my camera or take pen and journal to hand, I remind myself that things change. Storms have their beginnings and an end. And what happens in between can—and will—wreak havoc on the most carefully laid plans and intentions.

Events, like storms, are markers in time. And having a marker delineates a “before” and “after.”  What were you doing just before the storm hit? Where were you? We often have a stronger temporal sense of change whenever nature throws us the worse. Similarly, we celebrate when the change is for the better; some days are referred to as “picture-perfect…like a perfect postcard if you will.

The prologue to dark, grey afternoons can be a harbinger of bad stuff yet to arrive.  Still, I look at these harbingers for what they are: a dramatic dance of fleeting light, of varied grey swatches which masks greens, yellows and blue, of movements brought on by high wind speeds and even a gentle breeze.

Weather, in all its forms, is a fulcrum on our impressions of just how good or bad our day is doing.

 

 

Winter Warmth

Though overcast, there’s a familiar brightness to the grey overhead. It looks and feels like snow is in the air.  Forecasts notwithstanding, we’re expecting to get clobbered here in the northeast with record-cold temperatures.

Winter is en route.

Yet, in spite of this aura of grey that spills over the city, if we look close enough you can find various levels of warmth. Many of the objects seen, displayed and taken for granted in the roteness of our days can hint at or suggest a touch of warmth.

And while warm colors, hues and even some words or phrases can suggest some attribute of warmth, cold weather, specifically very cold weather, adds a bit of insouciance.

If you’ve spent most of your life in the northeast, a good number of you then understand finding this warmth. As the saying goes, “If you don’t like the weather, just wait a few minutes.”

Clearly Clear

The most fearless among the fearless are the workers that brave conditions which make our primal–often most private fears–come to surface.

The professionals who clean the windows of tall buildings are a good example of the breed.

To think they’re suspended in place with nothing but a saddle harness, a rope connected to that saddle, and the rope routed typically through a figure-8 or other type of belaying device. And where that rope is anchored on the roof is a mystery to me.

Not surprising, but always impressive, the windows are wonderfully clean and clear.

Light Chaser-2

Because I’m more of a “night-owl” it’s somewhat easier for me to take photos towards the end of the day. Actually, the later part of a day is when my brain starts to ramp up. Most of my images are serendipitous, which by the way is, how a lot of photographs become interesting.

The space between me and the street below stands 25 floors. All the views I see are through a thick piece of window glass. None of our windows open, not even a crack. That’s a good thing because if these large windows were to open, I suspect we would see more bugs and some birds in our work space.

Dealing with glass not quite crystal clear and uniform is far better than trying to deal with insects and pigeons…well, for me anyway.

 

Light Chaser

Am I the only one–if not one of the very few–that doesn’t object to the return of “Eastern Standard Time” in New England?

I refer to this change as back to “real time” much to the chagrin of most everyone around me. There are plusses and minuses–like everything else–but for me, this is not a big deal and I for one like that extra hour of sleep.

Chasing the light with a camera in hand is very therapeutic for me.  The time of day, whether early or late, contains a salve that takes the edge off my depression.

Light can be a fantastic muse. It’s never exactly the same yet it can provide similar if not familiar feelings for one person to the next.  I love chasing the light…

 

 

Strength Revealed: The End

The following completes the story I started on May 25, Strength Revealed.

One reinforced cement section delivered to site…

I don’t know the actual weight, but it required 2 cranes to cradle this section into position…

Steel cables, hook, pulleys, etc.

One crane just barely…barely…cleared the overhang of the first parking deck…

 

Strength Revealed

The primary entrance ramp to our office garage is undergoing a major rebuild. I spoke with one of the engineers who told me the short version of what needs to be done. What amazed me most was not the materials being used [steel], but the forces impressed on each steel structure to make sure everything stays in place.

The “L” brackets look like overgrown shelf brackets. They’re attached to  the side of the building with bolts that run through to the other side.

The top part of each cantilever [the “L” bracket] is also bolted to a length of I-beam steel. The beams look like tracks with missing sections; nothing though is missing here on the inside of that ramp wall. In engineer-speak, “form follows function.”

The panels that are the ramps are also big and heavy. Very heavy. One of the challenges is where and how to position a crane to offload a panel. Parts of the street are suspect because of storage rooms and passages lying beneath. The weight of the crane, the truck and equipment can very well “drop” into a hole of its own making.

An anchor point for the ramp…

Stress

I suppose someone helped a vine or tree limb grow like a corkscrew. On the other hand, maybe this is a message from Mother Nature and she’s telling us of the stress we’re subjecting her to.

This image shows part of a very large oak limb horizontally spanning about 30-feet [9-meters]. Growing straight up from this limb is a host of small branches that look a lot like saplings. Usually I see such saplings on the forest floor, but this is the first time I’ve seen them emerging from a limb.

I’m not an arborist, so just maybe this is all part of a seasonal norm…

Beautiful Cold

It’s not difficult to dislike the brutal cold [7F with -10 windchill]. In spite of that, I find a quality that transcends visual beauty.

The cold makes things hold fast. It’s a natural form of “stop-motion” for inanimate objects. And a few animated ones as well vis-a-vis, birds stoically perched in a tangle of shrubs enduring both the cold and the wind.

For a brief instance—and I mean brief—I’m part of the landscape with camera in hand. The cold forces me to hunker down, to pull tighter the collar of my jacket, the hat on my head, the gloves that now feel powerless to the temperature as my fingers start to numb.

Winter is a beautiful time of year for me.