View allAll Photos Tagged Depth
USA, Oregon
Crater Lake National Park
Crater Lake is a caldera lake in south-central Oregon in the western United States. It is the main feature of Crater Lake National Park and is famous for its deep blue color and water clarity. The lake partly fills a nearly 2,148-foot (655 m) deep caldera that was formed around 7,700) years ago by the collapse of the volcano Mount Mazama. There are no rivers flowing into or out of the lake; the evaporation is compensated for by rain and snowfall at a rate such that the total amount of water is replaced every 250 years. With a depth of 1,949 feet (594 m), the lake is the deepest in the United States.
Nearly three months separates the photos in this composite. Yet it feels like much less in my increasingly contorted perspective of time. As a child I would sometimes spin in circles. I loved the momentary sense of imbalance before my senses fell back into rhythm. The passage of time gives me the a similar sense of imbalance. However these days the normal rhythm is never fully restored. I stumble from one season into the next with a failing sense of comprehension about the progression.
Photography at least provides me with a tangible set of way posts to mark my journey. My phone in particular offers an amazing visual tracking of life moments. I often cross through the camera roll quickly. It creates a weird motion blur where you can't really focus on a single image. Rather I discern only shapes and colors that correlate in part to the season in which the pictures were taken. Another trick is to zoom way out until hundreds of photos appear in miniature. Love seeing my recent life translated into to a mosaic, billions of pixels. Individually indiscernible, but collectively representing my daily experiences on the pathway of life.
Standing on the edge off this woodland pond the other day, I was struck by the cold and barren bleakness. I thought back to that brilliant October day when I stood in this exact same spot. The scene literally burst into vibrant and joyous color. This composite conveys that joy, but in a shocking, even disturbing juxtaposition. It put me in mind of the explosion of an underwater depth charge. Yet another unwanted time marker passing me by.
© Leanne Boulton, All Rights Reserved
Street photography from Glasgow, Scotland.
Captured in October 2024.
Thank you for your comments and favourites. I hope that your week is going well. Take care.
The number 13 is one of my favourite numbers. I am drawn to it and feel no negativity from it at all.
Happy Light Wednesday
IMPORTANT: for non-pro users who read the info on a computer, just enlarge your screen to 120% (or more), then the full text will appear below the photo with a white background - which makes reading so much easier.
The color version of the photo above is here: www.lacerta-bilineata.com/ticino-best-photos-of-southern-...
THE STORY BEHIND THE PHOTO:
So far there's only been one photo in my gallery that hasn't been taken in my garden ('The Flame Rider', captured in the Maggia Valley: www.flickr.com/photos/191055893@N07/53563448847/in/datepo... ) - which makes the image above the second time I've "strayed from the path" (although not very far, since the photo was taken only approximately 500 meters from my house).
Overall, I'll stick to my "only-garden rule", but every once in a while I'll show you a little bit of the landscape around my village, because I think it will give you a better sense of just how fascinating this region is, and also of its history.
The title I chose for the photo may seem cheesy, and it's certainly not very original, but I couldn't think of another one, because it's an honest reflection of what I felt when I took it: a profound sense of peace - although if you make it to the end of this text you'll realize my relationship with that word is a bit more complicated.
I got up early that day; it was a beautiful spring morning, and there was still a bit of mist in the valley below my village which I hoped would make for a few nice mood shots, so I quickly grabbed my camera and went down there before the rising sun could dissolve the magical layer on the scenery.
Most human activity hadn't started yet, and I was engulfed in the sounds of the forest as I was walking the narrow trail along the horse pasture; it seemed every little creature around me wanted to make its presence known to potential mates (or rivals) in a myriad of sounds and voices and noises (in case you're interested, here's a taste of what I usually wake up to in spring, but you best use headphones: www.youtube.com/watch?v=AfoCTqdAVCE )
Strolling through such an idyllic landscape next to grazing horses and surrounded by birdsong and beautiful trees, I guess it's kind of obvious one would feel the way I described above and choose the title I did, but as I looked at the old stone buildings - the cattle shelter you can see in the foreground and the stable further up ahead on the right - I also realized how fortunate I was.
It's hard to imagine now, because Switzerland is one of the wealthiest countries in the world today, but the men and women who had carried these stones and constructed the walls of these buildings were among the poorest in Europe. The hardships the people in some of the remote and little developed valleys in Ticino endured only a few generations ago are unimaginable to most folks living in my country today.
It wasn't uncommon that people had to sell their own kids as child slaves - the girls had to work in factories or in rice fields, the boys as "living chimney brushes" in northern Italy - just because there wasn't enough food to support the whole family through the harsh Ticino winters.
If you wonder why contemporary Swiss historians speak of "slaves" as opposed to child laborers, it's because that's what many of them actually were: auctioned off for a negotiable prize at the local market, once sold, these kids were not payed and in many cases not even fed by their masters (they had to beg for food in the streets or steal it).
Translated from German Wikipedia: ...The Piazza grande in Locarno, where the Locarno Film Festival is held today, was one of the places where orphans, foundlings and children from poor families were auctioned off. The boys were sold as chimney sweeps, the girls ended up in the textile industry, in tobacco processing in Brissago or in the rice fields of Novara, which was also extremely hard work: the girls had to stand bent over in the water for twelve to fourteen hours in all weathers. The last verse of the Italian folk song 'Amore mio non piangere' reads: “Mamma, papà, non piangere, se sono consumata, è stata la risaia che mi ha rovinata” (Mom, dad, don't cry when I'm used up, it was the rice field that destroyed me.)... de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kaminfegerkinder
The conditions for the chimney sweeps - usually boys between the age of 8 and 12 (or younger, because they had to be small enough to be able to crawl into the chimneys) - were so catastrophic that many of them didn't survive; they died of starvation, cold or soot in their lungs - as well as of work-related accidents like breaking their necks when they fell, or suffocatig if they got stuck in inside a chimney. This practice of "child slavery" went on as late as the 1950s (there's a very short article in English on the topic here: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spazzacamini and a more in depth account for German speakers in this brief clip: www.youtube.com/watch?v=gda8vZp_zsc ).
Now I don't know if the people who built the old stone houses along my path had to sell any of their kids, but looking at the remnants of their (not so distant) era I felt an immense sense of gratitude that I was born at a time of prosperity - and peace - in my region, my country and my home. Because none of it was my doing: it was simple luck that decided when and where I came into this world.
It also made me think of my own family. Both of my grandparents on my father's side grew up in Ticino (they were both born in 1900), but while they eventually left Switzerland's poorest region to live in its richest, the Kanton of Zurich, my grandfather's parents relocated to northern Italy in the 1920s and unfortunately were still there when WWII broke out.
They lost everything during the war, and it was their youngest daughter - whom I only knew as "Zia" which means "aunt" in Italian - who earned a little money to support herself and my great-grandparents by giving piano lessons to high-ranking Nazi officers and their kids (this was towards the end of the war when German forces had occupied Italy).
I never knew that about her; Zia only very rarely spoke of the war, but one time when I visited her when she was already over a 100 years old (she died at close to 104), I asked her how they had managed to survive, and she told me that she went to the local prefecture nearly every day to teach piano. "And on the way there would be the dangling ones" she said, with a shudder.
I didn't get what she meant, so she explained. Visiting the city center where the high ranking military resided meant she had to walk underneath the executed men and women who were hanging from the lantern posts along the road (these executions - often of civilians - were the Germans' retaliations for attacks by the Italian partisans).
I never forgot her words - nor could I shake the look on her face as she re-lived this memory. And I still can't grasp it; my house in Ticino is only 60 meters from the Italian border, and the idea that there was a brutal war going on three houses down the road from where I live now in Zia's lifetime strikes me as completely surreal.
So, back to my title for the photo above. "Peace". It's such a simple, short word, isn't it? And we use it - or its cousin "peaceful" - quite often when we mean nice and quiet or stress-free. But if I'm honest I don't think I know what it means. My grandaunt Zia did, but I can't know. And I honestly hope I never will.
I'm sorry I led you down such a dark road; I usually intend to make people smile with the anecdotes that go with my photos, but this one demanded a different approach (I guess with this latest image I've strayed from the path in more than one sense, and I hope you'll forgive me).
Ticino today is the region with the second highest average life expectancy in Europe (85.2 years), and "The Human Development Index" of 0.961 in 2021 was one of the highest found anywhere in the world, and northern Italy isn't far behind. But my neighbors, many of whom are now in their 90s, remember well it wasn't always so.
That a region so poor it must have felt like purgatory to many of its inhabitants could turn into something as close to paradise on Earth as I can imagine in a person's lifetime should make us all very hopeful. But, and this is the sad part, it also works the other way 'round. And I believe we'd do well to remember that, too.
To all of you - with my usual tardiness but from the bottom of my heart - a happy, healthy, hopeful 2025 and beyond.
;-)))
Detail on top of utility box ~ San Diego ~ California ~ USA ~
Listening to " Wild Cat " by RATATAT ~
Helios 44M f/2
Godox TT600S triggered with X1TS
Please leave a comment below if you like it, thanks!
500px: 500px.com/boben98
"Profondità percepita..."
(oil on canvas, 40x40 cm)
www.instagram.com/p/DVRlU5aEaQR/
(Traditional Painting Meets AI)
Image made using Grok - is a free AI assistant designed by xAI to maximize truth and objectivity.
A Bronzed Drongo on a Moringa Oleifera tree growing in the backyard. It is a fast-growing, drought-resistant tree of the family Moringaceae, native to the Indian subcontinent. The bird is a resident in the forests of the Indian Subcontinent and Southeast Asia. It captures insects flying in the shade of the forest canopy by making aerial sallies from its prominent perch. Very similar to the other Drongos of the region but somewhat smaller and more compact with differences in the fork depth and the patterns of gloss on the feathers.
Horton Grove Nature Preserve
590nm IR-converted Pentax K-5
SMC Pentax 1:3.5 35mm
16:9 panorama crop
Iridient Developer
2011
The third Que burner. Exploring thousand different ways to combine it. Evolving style's the real deal...but kryptonite's gonna fuckin kill you.
The Cta // Go!NutS
Yo Psa Team
Rock on!!
We only have azaleas in bloom for a very short time here in East Texas. Springtime here is lovely to see but the pollen is killer.
ODC: narrow depth of field
photo rights reserved by Ben
Matka Canyon is one of the most impressive natural landscapes in North Macedonia. Over thousands of years, the Treska River carved this deep gorge, where steep limestone walls rise almost straight out of the water. Between these towering cliffs it feels as if the world suddenly becomes narrower — and at the same time infinitely larger. Across the water, small kayaks move almost silently through the canyon, carried by the gentle flow of the Treska. It is one of the most beautiful ways to experience Matka: surrounded by rock and silence, with only the rhythm of paddles echoing between the cliffs. Deeper in the heart of the canyon lies the mysterious Vrelo Cave, reachable only by boat. Inside are still pools, hidden chambers, and an underwater depth said to be among the deepest in the world. It is a place that naturally brings silence — as if the canyon invites you to listen to everything concealed beneath the surface. All together, Matka Canyon becomes a landscape where adventure and tranquility meet: paddling through narrow waterways, walking along the cliffs, and discovering how nature has been writing its story here for centuries.
Matka Canyon lies just outside Skopje, where the Treska River winds through steep limestone cliffs. Kayaks glide quietly over the calm water, the sound of paddles echoing between the rocks. Further inside the gorge, the Vrelo Cave awaits — a hidden world of deep pools and silent chambers. It’s a place where nature slows everything down and the canyon tells its own timeless story.
Matka Canyon is één van de indrukwekkendste natuurplekken van Noord-Macedonië. De rivier Treska heeft hier in duizenden jaren een diepe kloof uitgeslepen, waar steile rotswanden bijna recht uit het water omhoog rijzen. Tussen die muren van kalksteen voelt het alsof de wereld plots smaller wordt — en tegelijk oneindig veel groter. Over het water varen kleine kajaks bijna geluidloos door de canyon, gedragen door de rustige stroom van de Treska. Het is een van de mooiste manieren om Matka te ervaren: omringd door rots en stilte, met alleen het ritme van peddels dat door de kloof weerkaatst. Dieper in het hart van de canyon ligt de mysterieuze Vrelo-grot, bereikbaar per boot. Binnen vind je stille waterbassins, verborgen kamers en een onderwaterdiepte waarvan wordt gezegd dat het tot de diepste ter wereld behoort. Het is een plek die even stil maakt — alsof de canyon je uitnodigt om te luisteren naar alles wat onder de oppervlakte verborgen ligt. Alles samen maakt Matka Canyon tot een landschap waarin avontuur en rust samenvallen: varen door smalle watergangen, wandelen langs rotsen en ontdekken hoe natuur hier al eeuwen het verhaal schrijft.
Saturday Self Challnege
"Shallow Depth of Field" in black and white"
This should be a good challenge with lots of things to consider when taking your photo. Your subject can be anything you choose.
I had a couple of shots lined up for this challenge but eventually decided on this one. The photo is of one of the rails and a couple of ropes on a fishing vessel, it’s moored among several others in Padstow Harbour.
Thank you for your visit and your comments, they are greatly appreciated.
rome, colosseo quadrato, assortment of walls, statues and shadows. for more images in the eclectic series click here