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From way back in the archive ~ a storm I thought I'd revisit, processing-wise, knowing a bit more now than I did then...
This one was huge!! These three shots were taken just before the heavens opened & all hell broke loose
Glorious sunset at the beach. Tide was pretty strong, glad to have made it out without soaking the camera!
The Tasman Bridge over the River Derwent, Hobart, Tasmania
There have been a few bushfires around the south of the island. Riding home after a work one day a huge pall of smoke came up the river on the sea breeze. By the time I got home and got back with the tripod and other toys it had mostly cleared unfortunately.
The light was still a bit weird though and the turbulence around the bridge made the smoke behave in strange ways.
Nikon Z6, Nikkor 18-35/3.5-4.5, 30 secs at f/16, ISO 100
Breakthrough Photography X4 ND 10 Stop Filter
....as the sun was setting, softer and easier on the eye, I watched in awe as I always do.
12/366 project
Check out my on location video here
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Warwickshire, England
Nikon Z5 II + Tamron 50-400mm F4.5-6.3 Di III VC VXD
Many older married couples can remember like it was yesterday the first home they lived in after marriage. After a half century, my wife and I still talk about ours.
Our first home was not like this deserted mobile home we observed recently stuck way out in a field by itself. But like this mobile home, ours wasn’t anything that ever graced the front cover of “Better Homes & Gardens”.
When we moved in, the first night we discovered there were previous tenants, scores of them. Four-legged furry mice that you could hear scattering about in every one of our four rooms. The next morning, my wife encouraged me to stuff every hole and crack I could find with steel wool. Then I fashioned screening over every furnace vent before we eventually got some relief.
But this “Mouse House” as we named it was everything to us. It was the location where my wife and I began our lives together, where our love for each other became greater than the square footage of that little farm house as we dreamed together of our future that seemed limited only by our imagination.
We gathered other people’s castoffs for our furniture, stripped and painted chairs, tables and made do with secondhand appliances. In the cold, wind-driven winters on the open plains of southwestern Minnesota, the incessant north winds buffeted our poorly insulated house but we laughed, wrapped ourselves in warm blankets and drank hot chocolate. Some early winter mornings we could see our breath as we got our first cups of coffee ready in our small kitchen.
Summers were better. We could take walks in the dying embers of colorful sunsets, holding hands as we walked and planned for a life we hoped would go far beyond our several acres of weeds, spotty grass and trees.
In those quiet moments in approaching darkness as crickets began their nightly concert, we felt we could never be richer even though we had to struggle to pay the $50 monthly rent.
The Mouse House was not grand by any measure but looking back at it we realize it was a symbol of two people uniting into one life, having a love that was not affected by having precious little of this world’s goods. That extremely modest first home wasn’t just where we lived but where we discovered happiness is not found in physical things but in the hearts of two people who could call any place home.
I wonder sometimes when I hear young couples planning to get married who want to start off with having a house at least as good as the one their parents have. Perhaps there is a step in life learning that is better experienced when the developing of relationships with your spouse is about all you can afford.
(Photographed near Stanchfield, MN)
Mono version of ElliĂ°aey and Bjarnarey, the two north easternmost islands of the Vestmannaeyjar Archipelago off Iceland's southern Atlantic coast.
Shot from the deck of the ferry 'HerjĂłlfur' on the way over to the islands for a sticky-beak.
Fuji XT2, XF23/1.4, 1/640th sec at f/10, ISO 640