The Daily Photograph™

And the rhythm surrounds us

Between Them, They Make the World

and all that dwell on it. And the dance is never the same. Each round is similar to one before, so there is continuity, but changed, so each moment is unique.

I wish you could see, on the internet, the enormous subtlety and rugged fragility that makes this photograph so delightful and strong. I plan to print it big.

A new view from the same place

I was not too happy

With the earlier work on Red Butte. When I got back to the studio that day, I experienced the awful moment that every artist knows, when all the work seems drab and void. As the images came up on my monitor, they seemed nothing at all like I had envisioned.

Still, the work I post here is supposed to be unfinished; rough drafts, and I had committed myself to posting one of the photographs I made that morning, and so I did, despite my misgivings. I was surprised that some people thought it was worthy.

When today I looked again at that morning’s work, I was intrigued to find it was suddenly better! Every artist has that moment, too, when the work that seemed so awful and trite suddenly emerges with new and stronger meaning. I’m still not too happy with #63. Its gesture is restricted; it’s not — how to say this? — bouncy enough.

So, I offer this piece. I think it’s better.

A champion light catcher

This weed seriously annoyed me

As I tried to photograph the bluff beyond, its blurry branches caught the light and got in the way of a clean, crisp rendition. I thought to tear it out, remove it from the scene. As I reached to put the thought into action, I noticed the weed had properties and characteristics of its own, every bit as fine and more delicate than those of the bluff. So, I made its picture.

Then, I moved my camera and made a photograph of the bluff.

Marks the Upper Crossing of the Platte

Immigrants had to cross the Platte by July First

And couldn’t cross most years much before June First. Weather constraints made the window for fording the Platte River quite narrow. The river was too high with snow melt in Spring, and the trek to California or Oregon was likely to end in mountain snows if you left things too late.

Before Louis Guinard built his toll bridge, only two ways to finally cross the river were possible, This one, at Red Butte, and another called “Mormon Crossing”, later “Mormon Ferry,” a few miles downriver.

Immigrants had to ford the river, driving the wagons across a shifting floor of sandbars, a task made easier by low water. Often, in Spring, several early wagon trains would gather and encamp, awaiting an auspicious day. When it arrived, the scene could become generally as bad as depicted in the movie “How the West Was Won” This ford was the reason the high-end Conestoga wagons were built to be adequate water vessels.

But it's nice to dream about

It’s cold in January

And snowy, too. But today was far to hot and the light too harsh for any photographic expedition, even one to the front porch. I took the easy way out and visited another day. It’s not inspired, nor even very good, but at least its cold.

She sometimes shows her bones

These Bones are near Silver City, New Mexico

An area that’s full of mining history, not only for silver, but for copper, lead, gold and other metals. In the notch below is what I think is the remains of an old mine. There are plenty of them around the area.

It's much higher than it looks

It’s unusual to talk about the ‘end’ of a mountain

But Casper Mountain is something like ten miles long, from East to West, and rises abruptly almost 3000 feet from the flatlands at it’s foot. Wikipedia says it’s so long and wide that it is visible from space, at the height the Shuttle and International Space Station fly. I’d like to test that personally, someday.

A sky so blue, a land so rich

Here’s why the exposure details are worthless

To any other photographer but the one making the exposure. The ‘exposure value’ of the clouds here is ’16′. I’m shooting an nominal ISO of 100, focused at infinity. I could be shooting at f11, f16, or f22 with my 50mm lens, depending on the shutter speed.

Which was it? Can you tell?

The most important thing a photographer can learn is the proper level of exposure. This is given by the ‘exposure value’ or absolute level of light reflected from the brightest object in the frame, exclusive of specular highlights, as from waves or chrome. This value, in conjunction with the ISO of the medium, then determines the range of shutter speed/aperture settings that will expose the medium properly.

A light meter, whether internal to the camera or hand-held, reads the EV and does the math for you. The photographer then makes subjective judgments about depth of field or the degree of motion smear, or the higher or lower tonal values desired.

The actual lens/shutter settings will therefore vary from one person to another, from one situation to another, and will be specific to the moment and situation. There are times the photographer ignores the ‘right’ EV and exposes higher or lower in order to make a good photograph. In this particular case, I followed my light meter.

Not as interesting as I'd hoped

The weatherguy promised thunderstorm

And there is an old saying in photographic circles: “Bad weather makes good photographs.”

So I hoped for dramatic light and maybe some lightning flashes. Waited all day for the storm to arrive, watched it on the Weather Service radar page. This was the result. Flat light, a bit of wind, and a nice light rainfall, with enough thunder (not pictured) to make the dog nervous. Tech details: 250mm f45 1sec.

We can’t expect a winner every time, but we surely can hope.

That's it 'til next year

It’s been a wet Spring

But it’s turned into a brutal Summer. About 12 inches a year is all the moisture that falls each year, and we’ve had our quota already. Now, the hot sun bakes the moisture back into the air, and it moves off to Kansas and Nebraska. This catch pond will be completely dry by August.