Delaware Seashore Sate Park, DE

...Coming soon...thou probably not --Just a great week celebrating Barb's birthday.

Charlie's Backyard Fires, PA

As indicated, these shots were all taken before the implied date by this blog's position in the timeline.  ("Now, that's a weird statement" would be much different without the comma, as this is without "meaning" before "without.")

Now for the straight talk --well, as straight as it gets.  My friend Charlie Alaimo has these amazing fires when he LEGALLY burns fallen branches coaxed out of the surrounding trees.  The gallery contains 4 photos from April 13th, two from June 2nd (my daughter Ashley's birthday), and the rest from July 21st.

Photographing flames is always fun because of the unpredictable nature of the subject.  Surely there are many controls that could be put into the project, but the fun we have at Charlie's will not allow such a setup.  Besides, most of what I capture is on-the-go stuff with little or no planning, and I'm driven by the unpredictable.  

The one shot that is anti-thematic, in that it doesn't allow the fire to determine the outcome, is number four with the empty Straub beer bottle.  The fire does, however, play a special role as can be seen in a full size crop.

It is highly recommended to view this gallery first either through the slideshow or the small version and take a little more time seeing each shot, letting your imagination guide you.  If you think you can see something rising out of the flames, verify your find in the larger version.  If you'd like to see a full size version and really get the full impact of what rises from the flames, let me know.  I'll send you one. 

Haystacks, Dushore, PA

This trip to Haystacks started when Vaibhav Bhosale (VB) saw a photo of Canyon Vista in Worlds End State Park on Facebook.  Another member of the Northeast Photography Club, Jim Cook, suggested we hike to Haystacks, which is east of the park on Loyalsock Creek.  Ultimately Aaron Campbell joined us.  Aaron & I arranged to meet them at the Jolly Trolley in Dushore at 8:30.   We were all about 15 minutes early and Dushore was all abuzz.  They must have been having some kind of town festival because there were tents and display tables being set up all over town and you could sense the anticipation of a wonderful day in the folks that were gathering.  We left them to their fun and headed off to the trailhead and our own day of wonders.

Jim, our experienced leader, made it clear that he was not that experienced with this place having only been through here once in winter.  For the rest of us, it was our first time.  Why do they call it haystacks, I wondered.  After seeing it, I still wonder a little; Jim's wife later said they looked more like turtles.  It's quite an interesting labyrinth of sandstone formed by the currents of Loyalsock Creek, now filled with mini falls and pools of water --temporarily stranded by once heavier flows and waiting to be replaced by the next one. 

While we walked down the trail I saw orange and yellow mushrooms off our path, and mentioned I'd catch up as I veered off for a closer look.  After a few unsuccessful exposures (one of which is photo 2) I headed back down the path and found VB also lingering behind, getting some shots.  Eventually we caught up to the others who waited at the "turning rock" where the trail turns right and follows a tributary to the creek.  A little more that half way down VB & I once again left the path and headed for the sound of rushing water.  He got some nice photos there, but I only used one of mine, photo 3. 

{I really shouldn't call these galleries because "gallery" denotes more of the best of the best.  These are more like photo books --you know, you take a bunch of shots, then select the ones good enough to put in the plastic pockets -- the best photos mixed with near misses and those that just remind you of good times or illustrate something of interest.  My Zenfolio site would be the next reduction phase, but even those are not just the best (actually I don't have enough of "The Best" to fill up a gallery, but you know what I mean).  The number is lessened further when I choose for the yearbook.  So, please disregard the misnomer.}

When VB & I were done with the tributary we followed the path to a T at the creek.  We weren't sure if Haystacks was to the left or right so we took a few shots in each direction until we finally determined left was the way to go.  We soon caught up with Jim and Aaron enjoying the thrill of photographing whatever caught their eye.  VB quickly joined them, but I was still shooting from the path.  I wnated to scout a bit downstream then walk back to them along the creek.  While still up on the path I looked back upstream and saw what at first appeared to be a snake on a ledge.  After getting a better look and realizing it was way too long to be a snake, and capturing a pic of the folly, I climbed down to the water. 

There was a group of swimmers upstream near where the others were working, and I tried shooting around them, allowing their presence to dictate my compositions.  Knowing they weren't soon to leave, I eventually convinced myself I could remove them in the digital darkroom.  Well, that didn't work, so I ended up with another batch of unusable exposures.  The task of removing them was only a small problem compared to the compositions I forced when trying to ignore their presence.  Let's say you take a wonderful shot across 3 mini falls.  It might look great.  Now let's say you add a couple of kids playing in the water, one almost to and running toward the right edge of your frame, and the other's head actually out of the frame.  Even if you appreciate the quality of the falls, the photo would upset you internally (provided, of course, you're human).  Humans trump all other attractions for other humans.  That's as it should be, and I don't want to upset that tendency.  You'll still find some of their things on rocks in the photos, but eventually they moved on.  The four of us know how to stay out of each other's way, or amuse ourselves until the other's done.  Sometimes we might amuse ourselves by taking a shot of the culprit, as in photo 29. 

In photo 27 you'll find VB comfortably perched to get some shots of one of the pools.  Later, while I was working in that same spot, I heard my lens cap fall to the rock below.  Aaron and I looked all around but couldn't find it.  In the process I pulled back the small branches of a bush and was startled to see a black snake resting in the shade.  Most humans seem to fear snakes so we think it's natural, but enough of us don't so it's at least selective.  I remember, after the initial surprise, feeling a bit embarrassed that I'd interrupted his siesta.  He didn't have my lens cap so I gave him a happy nod and continued the search.  Just after we gave up and decided to move on, VB came to join us.  It didn't take him long to say, "There it is!" as he pointed to a spot in the water.  There it was swirling around the currents of the creek bed.  I walked in and once again lost sight of it in the glare.  Aaron maintained and was able to get it for me.  After thanking them we headed upstream to find Jim. 

Here's a shot showing where VB sat in relation to the snake.  Understanding there's no such thing as coincidence, it came as no surprise when we caught up to Jim and he told us of a snake dream he had the night before this trip.  In it, the snake bit him. 

On our way back up the hill to the car we were stopped by a fellow photog from Doylestown at the turning rock.  He was on a bike day with his three kids (I'm making assumptions) and they stopped there for a break.  We all got talking about photography and those who had them exchanged cards, but I could see the kids were getting bored with this break they didn't really need.  We continued our climb and commented on how you always find the best people in parks --with nature.  Once, close to the top, without missing a step, Jim yelped out a "Whoa!" as a snake on the trail bid us farewell.

"Restore The Slope," Archbald, PA

While trying to figure out where to go and what to shoot, I got a call from Mo Devlin.  Within his vast array of extraordinary talents, Mo is also the owner of Mojo Marketing.  He was heading to Archbald to photograph "before" shots of some abandoned buildings his client was planning to revitalize, and asked me along.  It was go or no-show, so we packed and departed.  Dave Cohen met us at Sheetz and we were off.  We finally came to our destination at the lonely end of a street, and armed ourselves with cameras. 

After climbing the short driveway to the first building, we were a little disappointed to see a couple guys already starting the renovations.  There was scaffolding set up on the interior, and half of the sheathing for a new roof was already installed.  This certainly affected the incoming light and our ability to capture angles without disrupting the progress.  But then, what were we there to shoot anyway?  Mo was the only one who might have had an agenda (except for the workers), but none of us could hold back creativity when there is a camera in hand.  Were we to document the current condition of the buildings to augment the attaboys the renovators were expecting upon completion of the project?  They could have done that with their phones.  So it was obvious we were there primarily to amuse ourselves, and that's the best way to approach any subject. 

Mo said it best when I heard him say to one of the roofers, "It's weird taking photos of graffiti.  You don't want to reward the vandalism, but..."   Art is art.  These artists are driven by the thrill of creativity that rushes through them, and buildings are the canvass of choice.  It seems obvious that whoever did this wasn't doing it just to mark their territory or promote their gang or their philosophy.  Surely those things will come out in their art like they do through all of us, but this is art for art's sake and can be quite appealing to others.  Why don't cities and towns hire more of these folks to do murals on select buildings to help beautify the community?  If their canvass of choice was trees or rocks in nature, I would squawk, but the man-made stuff... have at it, as long as y'all agree.   My only problem posting photos of it is that I don't know what it means.  There are symbols and such that may have meanings that I'd rather not promote.  If anyone of knowledge can explain some of it to me, please enlighten me.  If I've offended anyone with these shots, well... I don't care.  Too many of us are offended by too many silly things too easily.  But... still let me know at apathy@ireallycare.com. 

The only building we saw at the top of the driveway is the small structure you can see in the first seven shots.  We soon figured this was going to be a quick day here.   Steamtown NHS in Scranton was our backup plan, and Nay Aug Park was mentioned.  At one point I was standing outside a window (see photo 3), and setup for a 1.6 second exposure hoping to catch Mo at his craft, but he moved.  As soon as I saw it in-camera I realized his action made me see the artwork with a different sense.  So later in the digital darkroom I quite naturally mirrored the left side of photo 4 to reveal the artist's subliminal message. 

As soon as we thought we had nothing left to get but some fine abstracts, one of the volunteers (actually he was a very important person for the conservancy group, but I forget his name --but thank him just the same) stopped on his way with a load of plywood under his arm to mention there were two other buildings in the project, and one was just up the path toward the tracks.  Knowing his true hospitality would not allow the reader to consider he was actually telling us to get the hell out of his way, so I mention it here to enlighten you.

Feeling the need for a change I headed for the tracks and came upon a long building used for I don't know what.  I used it as the subject of the rest of the gallery.  There was a lot more space for us to stay out of each other's way, and soon we were all interweaving with the building's beautifully decaying and vandalized exterior.  There was a small alcove (see photo 12 et al) that the architect designed as the building's focal point, and it soon became the center of our attention.  We were all over it like ants on a sugar cube, but none of us was in the way of the others, albeit we may have become each other's subject on occasion.  Photo 22 was the first I used the 17mm tilt-shift all day.  It was meant to show new growth supporting the project.  The apparent invasion by the silhouetted figures on the roof was an unexpected addition to the idea. 

I walked out to the tracks to see if another building could be seen, but it couldn't be.  So it was one last shot showing the whole symmetrical facade.  Mo, politely off to the side and out of the attempt, said something like, "Wouldn't it be cool to take one shot of the building and then put us in different poses at different points across it?"  Within seconds Mo and Dave were in place for the first exposure.  After changing the setting to Timer, I pushed the remote release and quickly ran to position.  There we were, 20 yards or so from the camera, holding our pose until we could hear the shutter.  We couldn't, and broke out laughing.  I inadvertently set it for 2 seconds instead of ten.  That exposure got my backside as I ran toward the building.  Walking back uphill to correct the duration on the timer I mumbled some thoughts to myself about my earlier decision to keep the wireless remote at home.  All 6 exposures took a total of 18 minutes, including running and walking between camera and subject, so you can tell there wasn't much thought in the process.  For the first 3 exposures we were all around the alcove.  Mo was in the same spot in two of them so I used only the one that seemed to fit better.  The fourth trip, the one where we're in our we're-about-to-be-frisked poses, was quite interesting and certainly took some extra time.  Earlier we tried a couple ways to enter the building and could only peer in to see total darkness.  Right after we heard the shutter release on this shot we started to back away, but the garage door we were touching slowly started to rise as if motivated by some Ouija power.  It stopped when we pulled our hands back, so we naturally assisted it the rest of the way.  Inside was a large room with an old Pittston stove, and we could sort of tell that there were rooms off through the darkness at each end of it.  As I walked through the webs of one of those dark rooms with the aid of my phone's flashlight app, and before continuing into the next dark room, I turned to see my two friends back at the entrance ready to run for help if it sounded like I needed it.  I said, "This is kinda like walking up the dark, creaky attic with a candelabra, isn't right."  Not waiting for an answer, I quickly rejoined them.  I could tell they were in a hurry to finish the group photo. 

Huber Breaker, Ashley, PA

Destination: Huber Breaker.  Plan: wing it.  Mo Devlin & I, inspired by the photos of others, wanted to get some of our own.  Driving by it on Main Street in Ashley, we couldn't find a road that would lead us to it.  After trying to maneuver our CRV along a treacherous path parallel to the railroad tracks we gave up and started back out to the road.  We saw a guy on an ATV and waited to ask him the best way to our destination.  He told us passed the firehouse on Main we'd find a right-hand turn that would bring us to a dirt road we could follow.  As it turned out this dirt road was really just the other end of the ATV path along the tracks.  Just about the time we were deciding which path would be less treacherous at a Y on the trail, our benefactor came rolling up on his ATV.  He was kind enough to lead us in, even stopping to remove objects that would damage our tires, and left us with a friendly, "Enjoy!"

Since we had to climb passed a huge moat-like ditch to get to the buildings, we selected only a couple lenses and were off.  Entering the ground floor of the 1st building I started giving up on getting shots from higher floors.  Some of those floors had already come crashing down, and at least in this building there were no steps that seemed passably safe to climb.  Still, there were plenty of nooks and crannies for our exploring cameras.  Mo's favorite shot, in fact, was his version of photo 4.  The likeness (to us) seemed to be Joe Morrison's, and it hangs on the ceiling side of the concrete second floor that has partially fallen to the first.  Mo admires the ability of the artist who painted it.  To me it seems so good that it must be some kind of "iron-on" image applied with heat and later embellished with some black paint strokes.  I encourage the reader to check it out, and settle the debate for us. 

The photos I imagined before going there are not in the gallery because they are still only in my imagination.  In order to get them out, I must revisit, but only after some consulting of the other photographers who have been there.

Dorflinger-Suydam, PA

Vaibhav Bhosale and I were the only two to make the 7:30 start time, actually I was a bit late after misinterpreting the directions, but...  We were headed to the Dorflinger-Suydam Wildlife Preserve in Wayne County.  For the whole hour-plus drive I was tempted to pull over for the many photo moments presented by the rising sun.  After correctly recalculating my way, and noticing some magnificent mist hovering above many ponds and lakes along the route, I called VB to suggest he not wait for me and walk to the lake before the morning sun chased the morning mist.  He made it clear that the call was unnecessary; after passing those same tempting diversions, there would have been no holding him back once he arrived.  When I turned into the first parking lot, as suggested by Patricia Stout, I saw that VB's was the only car there.  Once there, it was easy to see the call was definitely unnecessary because the lake was maybe 100 yards from the lot.  The dew on the grass and the solitude made it easy to see which way he chose to enter the scene, but I saw another entrance shot, photo 1. 

VB recently sent me a wonderful link to an ebook on tilt-shift lenses, and it was my intention to let him use my 17mm one all day, knowing that I would likely need to borrow it back occasionally.  The first such occasion was here before I even gave it to him, photo 2.  For this one, I duplicated the first shot then shifted the lens to the right to add another, opening the scene a bit wider with a 2-shot stitch.  Since posting the gallery, during the "...Coming soon..." phase of the blog, I made another version with a different sky.  The one in the gallery is how the sky actually looked.  Would you change the sky to make a photo look better?  Would you move a twig for the same reason?  How about power lines?  Would you straighten a shot that wasn't crooked just to make it "look right"?  Those are all questions that cry for debaters.  Personally, I'd prefer ignoring the discussions, although I'm so often confronted with such dilemmas.  

When Pat suggested this destination saying there was a lake with the museum behind it, I was hoping the early light would be streaming over our shoulders illuminating the museum as we captured a calm reflection.  VB and I had not been to this place before, and didn't know what to expect.  I could see that he was already involved in capturing a scene, so I dropped off the tilt-shift and went looking for my dream shot.  Well, reality burst the fantasy bubble, but I managed photos 4 thru 7 by steering my lens through some shoreline pines.  Not quite the photos I imagined.

We played mostly on the shore closest to the museum, then I went up to walk around the museum to see if we could get a map.  We knew there was much more to the place, and expected to see more people even this early.  Finding no one and no map, I walked back to where VB was busily waiting.  I turned to get one more shot of the museum --actually more of my winding path through the dew, then we walked around the lake capturing some light with our sensors.  My favorite spot involves photos 20 thru 32.  It was sort of an island, sort of shore, and sort of connected by a small wood bridge, photo 20.  In that shot you can also see VB.  He's that small speck of blue I decided not to clone out. 

I always include many photos in the online "gallery" that are not worthy of a more elaborate presentation --most, in fact.  After crossing the bridge I noticed a small tombstone near a tree on the left.  I set the camera-mounted tripod down and knelt to read it.  My remote release has a mind of its own, and sometimes trips the shutter without the usual human input.  Photo 21 is such an exposure.  As I was looking at the dates on the tombstone and imagining the times these dogs were here jumping in the water, I heard a shutter.  Thinking I may have been so lost in reverie that I didn't notice VB approaching, I turned to smile and noticed my camera.  In photo 22 you can see (especially in the large version) there are 3 dogs listed from 1931 to 1959.  I smiled and imagined how they played in this area, and how they surely added to the joy of place.  On this same island there was another stone marked with the names of 3 more subsequent dogs dating from 1959 to 1978.  I thought of the first one, Blondie, and how she must have affected the family.  They waited four years after she died at the age of 15 to get another dog, and pretty much had two ever since.  I thought of our family's first dog, Jack and smiled.  From this island we walked around the rest of the lake but got very few photos. 

There being no further business, the meeting adjourned and we left this wonderful place, knowing we'd want to return once we found out what we missed.