pulling on rock

We're almost at the middle of December and yet the weather remains fairly mild. Aside from the fluke snowstorm that arrived around Halloween, we haven't seen much precipitation, rain or snow. The sunny afternoons tempt me to come outside; it's perfect climbing weather. But by the time I'm through with school, the sun has set and my chance to get on the rock has disappeared.

Brendan and I took advantage of some great weather during the Thanksgiving break to head down to Lincoln Woods in Rhode Island and check out the bouldering scene. Our guidebook, New England Bouldering, features close to twenty boulders, and we decided to hang out at Ship's Prow and The Wave. With some cool traverses and some overhang with a range of difficulty levels, these boulders offered fun climbs and a good introduction to what Lincoln Woods has to offer.

Here are a few photos from the afternoon. Full album here.

a different take

If I had to name the one bridge of which I've seen the most photographs, I'd pick the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco. So when I found myself staring the bridge in the eye last week, I wanted to do something different. I had to find a vantage point that others don't often use.

And so I found myself on a pedestrian path almost directly beneath the bridge, holding my camera overhead so that I could clear a construction fence, using my camera's Live LCD to help me frame the shot. A bit of photo-editing -- to eliminate a telephone pole that shot directly up the side of the frame, and to render the image in black-and-white -- and voilà!

seeing big sur

Our drive along the coast from Monterey into Big Sur featured many stops along the side of the highway. California definitely knows how to space out their turn-offs and they also know how to keep the real treasures hidden. We traveled 40 miles in three hours, stopping to peer down steep hillsides and cliffs, explore beaches, and hike through forests.

After seeing almost every bit of the coastline down to Julia Pfeiffer State Park, we marveled at McWay Falls, the only waterfall in California to empty directly into the ocean. (A bit of history: The waterfall used to land directly in the water. However, a beach now rests below, the result of lots of dirt and sand from a landslide just north of the fall. The ocean then carried the dirt around a small promontory and dumped it in the next cove.)



As was characteristic of most of our days in Monterey, we woke up to thick fog overhead. And as we traveled south, the fog thickened for miles before showing any sign of relenting. The lifting clouds revealed lush green hillsides and turquoise ocean water reflecting the sun's golden rays. From Andrew Molera to Julia Pfeiffer State Parks, we basked under blue skies and watched cows grazing on fields abutting the windy beaches. The varied landscape included tall redwoods, dusty trails, boulders and arches, and rocky seaside cliffs.

We had hoped that on our return trip north, the fog would remain at bay, allowing us to see those vistas that we had missed, but unfortunately for us, the fog returned and settled for the evening.



Lots of photos from our visit to Big Sur here.

andrew molera state park

(click image for larger version)



view from molera point, andrew molera state park

big sur

(click image for larger version)



big sur panaroma, from rocky creek bridge

tall trees

To escape the blustery winds and foggy coast of Monterey, we decided to drive north to Boulder Creek to see some redwoods. We could only marvel at the majesty of Big Basin State Park's tall redwoods, craning our necks upward to catch a glimpse of the trees' tippety tops. Thousands of years old, hundreds of feet tall, tens of feet wide and around, the redwoods towered above us, pillars of red splintered wood, sheltering the trail with a ceiling of green.



Hiking up the Sequoia Trail, we encountered the Sempervirens Falls, a measly trickle in contrast to its winter and spring flow. Charred stumps and felled trees littered the edges of the trail, a reminder of the wildfires that visited this forest not very long ago.

Some of the trees opened up, inviting us to explore their cavernous interiors. Even with two of us together, we could barely manage to span the trees. And to think that we were not even seeing the widest of the redwoods, bridges tunneled through them as had been done at Mariposa...



With miles of trails, numerous waterfalls, a ocean vista, and a beach on the Pacific Coast, Big Basin offered us much more than we could possibly see in a single afternoon. Click here for more photos from our trip to Big Basin, and for photos of the sunset at Asilomar State Beach in Pacific Grove, CA.

feeding sea stars

Earlier this year, I "audited" Marine Biology during my free periods. I marveled at the diverse life forms that make up the marine world, and I approached my tide pooling excursions with much more fervor and knowledge. However, much of what I learned dealt with creatures that I don't normally find on the shores of Massachusetts.



This trip to Monterey, in particular our visit to Point Lobos's Weston Beach to examine life in the tide pools, helped me to add a new dimension to what I encountered in class. Limpets and chiton are much larger than I expected, having seen them only in photographs. Anemone squish every which way as I poke them, and I almost expect to hear the Pillsbury Doughboy giggle. And sea urchin -- well, they're always spiky.



The highlight of the afternoon came when Bonnie and I found a sea star clinging on the the base of a rock, about two feet underwater. I clambered out on the rock and while precariously holding on to a dry patch with one hand, I reached into the kelp bed and extracted the sea star. We set it down in a small pool of water to study it more closely and soon we had a large group of people gathered around us; we became the marine biology teachers out in the field!



When it came time to put the sea star back in its original spot, it clung on to the rock for dear life. I finally managed to pull it up, but not without causing the sea star to lose quite a few of its tube feet. The reason it put up such a fight? We discovered a limpet half-engulfed in the sea star's mouth! Knowing that we had helped it find a meal reduced the guilt of the stress and trauma we had caused. =)



Click here to see more photos of Point Lobos, tide pool creatures, and the Monterey Bay Aquarium (including photos from a feeding in their 1.2 million gallon Open Sea tank).

our own photobooth

After finding out that it cost $5 to use one of those booths that will take a series of photos and print a strip, we decided to create our own! We took the photos below while waiting for the sunset at Asilomar State Beach in Pacific Grove. Go here to see a few others from our visit to the Redwoods at Big Basin State Park.

living the (marine) life

We decided to travel out to Monterey for its marine life and we have definitely seen our share of marine life so far! From the carefully crafted exhibits at the Monterey Bay Aquarium, including the 1.2 million gallon Open Sea tank; to the pelicans soaring through the air; to the harbor seals and sea lions adorning the beaches and offshore rocks; to the urchins, sea stars and anemones lounging in the tidepools at Point Lobos, we have seen the complex dance that keeps all of these creatures living in harmony.



The Aquarium features an entire exhibit on jellies, which I find mesmerizing. I actually viewed the exhibit twice, on two separate days. Watching them float effortlessly in their tanks, I cannot help but envy their peaceful meandering in the water. Whereas we humans tend to hold onto every last shred of control, the jellies move with the tides, ebbing and flowing as the water, too, comes and goes.



See more photos from our first day in Monterey here: a foggy day full of pelicans, seals, sea lions, and a few flowers; and a trip to the Aquarium with jellies, sea turtles, and mola mola.

what the eye can't see

A few years ago, I made a trip to Harvard's Sackler Museum to see a special exhibition of Middle Eastern and South Asian art. The delicate calligraphy with which the artists embellished their work remains most imprinted in my memory, for I could not see it but with a magnifying glass. Imagine that -- details so tiny that one cannot see them with the naked eye. And it left me wondering how they managed to create such magnificent pieces.


ice serpent

The macro lens does something similar to that of the magnifying glass, allowing me to get ever closer to my subject, capturing details that I certainly would never notice, as careful and attentive as I might be. I love the feeling of diving into the subject, surrounding myself with lines, textures, nooks and crannies, and pockets of light that I did not know existed. I love looking at the photographs later, knowing that had I not taken the photographs, I might sit for hours wondering what the subject of the photograph might be.


ice-flake

For this project, I photographed a blue Nalgene bottle, water frozen inside it after days of sitting in the car. By rotating the funnel of ice around in the Nalgene, I could select sharp edges, bumpy surfaces, and glinting points of light. After framing my photograph, I shut off all the lights and, in the darkness, I remotely triggered the shutter, sending off a burst of bright light from the on-camera and remote flash unit. My favorite photographs are those which show the jagged edges of the ice, making them look like snowflakes or open-sea hazards. The blue tint from the Nalgene lends a frigid atmosphere to these lifeless stills.


the bubbles at jordan


scalloped ice


santa in antarctica


cape cod under ice age


oyster on ice

Photos shot with tripod-mounted Nikon D90, Micro-NIKKOR 60mm f/2.8 macro lens, remote SB-600 flash, Opteka wireless remote trigger.

See larger versions of these photos here.

one more installment of black-and-white

I took most of these photographs months and months ago (some as long ago as April or May) and only recently developed the rolls. Imagine my excitement as I put three rolls through the chemicals, not knowing what would appear once finished because I had no recollection of when I shot the rolls, or where! I found photographs from New York City, Cape Cod, and Acadia. Here are a few that I scanned and uploaded.


arches on Broadway
Bridges have always fascinated me, appealing to my appreciation of geometry, math, and architecture, not to mention my deep wonder at how these structures support so much weight. I love the repetition of arches into the distance, and I also love the way the small aperture allows for good detail even on the far reaches of the bridge. The cars turning onto this street are heading toward... One can only guess!


preparing for lunch
The dark interior of this Indian restaurant provided an interesting shot, and I remember using the table as a makeshift tripod so that I could use a slower shutter speed. I also remember thinking that the restaurant would soon fill up with hungry patrons, but it never did. Brooke and I were the only ones in there that afternoon.


i'm going to get you with my crab claws!
Yes, definitely weird. I think the photo's title says plenty.


early morning on cadillac
I took this photograph early one morning in June as John and I waited for the sunrise on Cadillac Mountain in Acadia National Park. Although no one else made the hike up, as we did, a number of people waited in their cars on this chilly morning. Those who ventured out ended up backlit by the increasing light, and I captured this group with a crescent moon high above.


pop at hunter's
This is another photo from Acadia, though I took this portrait of Pop much later in the summer, during our August visit and a trip to Hunter's Beach.

a collection of black and white

Ask and ye shall receive. Pop and Martha got me a Holga for Christmas and I immediately popped in some 120 film and began to play. As far as cameras go, this "toy camera" is not very sophisticated, but I'm hoping that it will add some new dimensions to my photography. Plastic lens, fixed focal length (60mm), fixed shutter speed (1/100 sec), fixed aperture (f/11), and the potential for light leaks every which way... nice!

Here, the square frames, slightly washed-out look, and grainy texture all create an atmosphere of mystery. The overcast, foggy day on which I shot these photographs adds a ghostly feel to some of these images, and I think I succeeded in capitalizing on that with the double exposure using the Charles River as a backdrop for a shot of the Olde Irish Alehouse.


A small statue of a boy and girl on a neighbor's lawn. To think that only a few days ago, over a foot of snow hid them from sight. Now, a ring of grass surround them, awaiting the next snowfall.


I took this photograph of the Charles River from Bridge St., on the Dedham-West Roxbury line. It looks so pristine here, white snow having replaced the brown, silty water that normally meets the eye.


My first double exposure, a shot of the Alehouse combined with that of the Charles. There is new meaning here when one says the Alehouse sits on the river. I can't yet identify what makes this image so exciting for me, but there is a sense of motion and transition, of fading out of one scene and into another, as if I'm standing there and panning, first seeing the river and then slowly watching the building come into view.


The layer of fog hugging the ground, coupled with the wide, white expanse with the lone goal sitting in the middle of the field really captured my eye. I tried several angles, some of which included the school building next to this field, but ultimately, I decided on this shot. Now that I can see the photo, I really like the way the vignetting in the corners directs the viewer toward the goal in the frame. And what better image of winter than that of a playing field, grass beneath layers of ice and snow and a goal by itself, players a memory of the past and a thing of the future, but not a reality in the present.

hiking franconia ridge

I took these photos on 35mm film back in early November during a hike with students up Falling Waters Trail, across the Franconia Ridge, and then down the Old Bridle Path. It took a while for me to develop the roll, and today I finally managed to scan a few of the negatives.


I like this vantage point, below rows of icicles slowly melting and drip-drip-dripping onto a patch of ice below. There used to be a branch hanging precariously overhead here, snapped and barely connected to the body of the tree, but it seems that over the past year or so, someone decided to take it down and make the trail a little safer for passers-by.


This was one of the first views we got of Franconia Notch as we ascended Falling Waters Trail and got close to treeline. On a clear day, Cannon Mountain with its steep cliff wall would loom across the Notch, but on this hike, we were above the clouds; everything else, below.


This is a view looking over the Pemigewasset Wilderness. This black-and-white image adds to the feeling of winter, isolation, and desolation. Wisps of clouds rise up, as if to engulf all life up here.


Sebastian brought a hot thermos on the trip and insisted that we bring hot chocolate with us. He managed to find someone else to carry the thermos but made sure to enjoy the rewards of Nathan's labor. Here, Sebastian, Braden, and Brendan enjoy a hot drink at the summit of Little Haystack before we begin the traverse over to Lincoln and then Lafayette.


Another look at the sea of clouds, with other peaks just barely visible.


Here we are at Lafayette, resting behind a stone wall, looking weary and completely uninspired for the trek back to the van. No hot chocolate here to take Brendan and Nathan's minds off of the long journey that still lies ahead.


Looking back on Little Haystack as we crossed the Ridge, I caught this image during a rare break in the thick cloud cover that we experienced all day. I love the contrast of the dark rock against the snow that has begun to accumulate, and in the background, one can see some of the other peaks in the area. These mountains are simply majestic, and I cannot describe the feeling of being up above treeline in the Whites other than to say that it is truly awe-inspiring.

christmas angel

At the suggestion of one of my best friends, I saved the cork from bottle of champagne that my wife and I shared with her maid of honor and crafted this angel ornament to commemorate our wedding day and our first Christmas together as husband and wife.