Lackawaxen & Promised Land, PA

This was our second attempt at finding eagles in Lackawaxen.  Well, actually the first attempt that Dave Cohen and I made took us to Delaware Water Gap because of a communication snafu (another story).  A few days after the folks at the PA Welcome Center set us straight, we saw a great visual temptation to fuel another trip.  Second Place at the Northeast Photography Club's monthly contest for members was a gorgeous photo of an eagle presented by John Goldman.  He captured the bird in flight in Lackawaxen.  Two days later we were on our way.

Neither of us is a morning person, although we both say we'd get up early if we had a specific place to shoot.  Whenever one of us would say that the other would raise his chin asking, "You got any place?"  The unvarying answer in the negative, followed by a chin-bobbing "You?" in reply, is predictably followed by a "no" of limited audibleness.   Funny thing is neither of us points this out for fear that we might actually have to get up early someday.  We didn't find any eagles but had a nice drive by Zane Grey's place.  The only photos we took in Lackawaxen were at Roebling's Delaware Aqueduct.  Here's a larger version of the sign in photo 3 for more info. 

Promised Land State Park was our backup plan.  Not knowing enough about the habits of eagles to catch one in sight, let alone capture it on sensor, I may have nominated Plan B a bit prematurely.  [If so, sorry, Dave, but remember you always have veto power.]  We tried a few leads that brought us to dead ends or closed facilities, then decided to get some later light in Promised Land.  We started near the boat launch on Bear Wallow Road.  The light coming across Lower Lake nicely illuminated the seemingly barren beach of pinecones and needles, and provided some color for our photos.  Dave can be seen in Photo 16.  He could have been cloned out but the photographer adds to the story.  Photo 32 was one of those snapshots we often see as we spin from a setup.  Dave was in the way and became the shot subsequently named "Absorbed Photographer".  Notice the moon just above his ring finger. I think it's cool how he is absorbed in his camera --almost literally.  It appears that his hat and face are being sucked in by the viewfinder.  Fitting.

Nay Aug Park, PA

Growing up in Northeastern Pennsylvania teaches you to develop a positive attitude.   Some say it's Seattle but I say it's NEPA (pronounced knee-paw) that gets more overcast days than any other location in the country.  Studies show how humans are happier when the sun is shining, so, since we only get a glimpse of that magical orb about 1 in 5 days, we learn to override the apparent gloom and develop alternative ways to keep smiling.   

Okay, yeah, it was overcast again when Dave Cohen and I went out (we-had-no-real-plan-where) to shoot some photos.  We stopped first at the Montage Ski Resort where we hoped to get some shots of skiers flying over jumps.  Since this might take some more planning we just scoped out the place for vantage points and gathered contact info to obtain permission to photograph.  Look for more of this in the future. 

With our memory cards still empty we decided to head up to Nay Aug Park in Scranton.  We knew the sun was up there in the sky somewhere because we didn't need headlights to see the road, but we also knew it was quite unlikely that we'd get any sunshine in our photos.  Being from NEPA we had macro lenses in our bags for a backup to ward off disappointment. 

The gorge and waterfall area at Nay Aug Park has been named a National Natural Landmark.  We spent most of our 2 hours by the falls.  Dave was setup using his 100-400mm lens to capture ice patterns dangling over the water.  My back, although vastly improved (thanks, Dr. Chris) since our Yellowstone/Yosemite trip of last September, is still being treated with the respect that anything it's age deserves.  That means I left all of the lenses except the 24-105mm and 17mm in the car.  So I was bobbing in and out of Dave's setup to get the wide stuff. 

Photos 3, 6 and 7 have a distant connection to Paul Strand, but I'll leave it to the interested Reader to make it.  [Hint: see here.]  Photos 8 thru 11 are similar to many others from places we visit in that I take similar shots each time just to see how different the sameness can be.  This also applies to photos 40 & 41 where I "added" fog (quite poorly, I should add--but if someone would like a print, I'll do a better job).

The 17mm Tilt/Shift lens was acting up on this day.  Okay, it was me.  The lens was acting the way it's supposed to, but...  Several times I shifted the lens to the left without moving the camera, and consequently lost some sharpness on the right.  Not once and fixed, but several times.  The lack of corner-to-corner sharpness is a disappointment no alternative endowment of endorphins could reverse.  How could I be so lax?   Where' was my macro?   Back in the car.

Still, being a NEPA dude, I found some excitement in the faces and patterns the soup of the falls was making in the water.  Numbers 18 & 23 are favorites.  I wonder if it's possible to predict where, when and what will appear in the soup, and what exposure time would be required.  Sounds like a science for someone else. 

Photo 29 is the "Where's Waldo" shot of the day.  When my friend Jim Pattison would accompany me on these excursions I would always take a shot with him or a part of him in it.  He would never be readily seen and it was more of a game to find him.  Dave, being a photographer, finds himself in many more of my photos as I'm sure I am in his.   Jim isn't a photographer, but he is the best assistant on a shoot.  He drives and whenever we saw a shot from the car without a place to park he would pull over to let us out, then circle back to get us.  Also, when we'd get up from shooting a flower, say, Jim would already have the next great stump marked for our consideration.  While we'd be shooting a small waterfall in some unknown area, Jim would be exploring upstream for the next one.  I told him he should start a business with this service.  Many photographers and groups would love to have such an advantage. 

Dave & I both missed the early warning signs of the train sketchily caught in photo 33.  I was hunched over a bench changing lenses when I heard the whistle.  Neither of us thought much of it.  We didn't add two and two to realize it was moving our way on the only track available. 

Photo 39 was included to show how the traffic on nearby I-81 is all but removed when an instant is stretched to 6/10s of a second.  The last 3 shots in the gallery were taken on our way back up the hill to the parking lot.  It's from the park's Christmas display that was being dismantled. 

Olde Good Things, PA

The weather was not supposed to be all that great and we didn't know if we'd be allowed to invade Olde Good Things in Scranton, but the gods were with Mo that day.  Dave Cohen (photo 25), Mo Devlin (photo 24) and I wanted to get some of those odd photos Mo got once before at this place, but we thought the 3 of us with backpacks, tripods and knee pads might be asking too much of their hospitality.  As soon as we pulled near the place Mo saw his friend that works there.  We were hoping to find him, but were concerned he might be the needle in this rusty olde haystack.  "No problem.  Enjoy the day," was the gist of his reply to Mo's inquiry. 

Those photog gods kept smiling on us as we finished up shooting in the "yard."  As we snapped our final shutters, not knowing whether the invitation included the inside of the building, a cheery gentleman appeared in the door.  Chuck (see photos 43, 44 & 46) was like the doorman of OZ.  "Come on in," was his congenial attitude.  He showed us some things that were still on the truck from their recent acquisition trip and sent us in the funhouse for photos.

Hollenback Cemetery, PA

Well, this visit to the Hollenback Cemetery actually started 3 days earlier.  Dave Cohen, Mo Devlin and I just photographed a hat collection for the Luzerne County Historical Society, and Dave and I decided to turn into the old town burial grounds.  Local citizens from the 1700s to the late 1900s are buried there.  It sounded like a good idea --you know, get some interesting shots of tombstones, trees and old mausoleums-- but while driving around the narrow lanes I had second thoughts.  It wasn't a fear of ghosts because I never met one I couldn't get along with, but it was the possibility others would consider it disrespectful.  Anyone who knows me certainly wouldn't.

Dave, knowing me like he does, convinced me to get out and get some photos.  That first day I only stayed in one spot and really only took shots of a single green tree (photos 1 thru 10).  But after 3 days I arose with new conviction.  It was supposed to be sunny all day and we imagined rays of light pouring through those trees and showing us exactly what to shoot for the best photos.  The Sun either didn't get the memo, slept late or was busy elsewhere because Hollenback was barely visible to a 3-second shutter exposure.  We gave it time and it took more than we gave, but eventually gave us some wonderful glimpses of its possible affects.  Of course, we tried to take more than it gave us.

Walking around this place you can't help but be touched by some of the things you'll notice, like the 18-year-old soldier who survived the Civil War, then had two boys, one who died at 2, the other at 5.  Or the simplest little rock partially dug into the ground, painted white and displaying one word: Mother.  That first day we were here a guy with his granddaughter saw us photographing and stopped us to mention a Civil War statue just over the fence in the Connecticut Settlement.  It faces a bend in the river, the spot last seen by area soldiers as they left for battle, and one they each dreamt of seeing when they returned.  Not all did, of course, but neither can we now.  See photo 62.

While in the Connecticut Settlement Cemetery we noticed an old crumbling building with the usual graffiti that was crying out to be photographed.  Eventually we decided to oblige.  After getting a few shots I saw someone pull up outside.  He got out and seemed to be admiring the history.  I came out to talk with him, see what he knew about what we were photographing.  As we were admitting our ignorance to each other (mine was far deeper) another SUV pulled up and a very stern face rushed toward us demanding an explanation for our presence.  He got closer to my new friend Bill and repeated his demand even when we were already softly complying.  Another SUV, presumably his backup (not that he needed it), pulled in as the aggressor was becoming the servant.  Dan & Jim were great guys doing a tough job, and they were quick to properly evaluate us.  We were tacitly deemed not the usual riffraff they encounter.  After talking about the place they decided to take us on a personal tour.  Quite interesting.  It was once a colliery with these HUGE fans supplying air to the mines below.  There was attempts to implode it, but, like the attempts in Concrete City in Nanticoke, they failed. 

After thanking our hosts we drove off noticing in the rear-view morror that the Sun got the all-clear.