Showing posts with label tree. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tree. Show all posts

Thursday, January 13, 2011

Judging by the trails of footprints in the snow in the vicinity of the Sentinel, I guessed that a number of people had been there in the snow before I had. But they were all gone.

The Sentinel in Snow, Jan. 11, 2011
Copyright © 2011 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Headed for the Viewpoint.

Hawthorn at Night, Fall, 2010
Copyright © 2010 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved

Saturday, October 2, 2010

Skoro budet, the saying goes. Each image is a struggle, and each takes time to come into the world, even when the shutter speed is fast.

Night along the Edge, Fall, 2010
Copyright © 2010 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved

Friday, October 1, 2010

Sometimes the mist rises from below, even in the late summer or early autumn. I suppose the patch of haze in the upper lefthand corner of this picture is nothing but the light of the nearby lantern. I should have used a hood around my lens, but I didn't happen to bring one with me.

Picnickers, Maybe September, 2010
Copyright © 2010 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved

Thursday, September 9, 2010

Moving forwards or backwards changes what you see, as most people realize.

Atypical Framing, July 24, 2010
Copyright © 2010 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved

Friday, September 3, 2010

It can be hard to decide which is the definitive image of a given subject, even when one is making a selection from amongst images taken within a period of a few seconds. The multiplicity of images and the unresolved decision as to which should represent the subject may, in fact, be the subject.

A More Reasonable Version, July 24, 2010
Copyright © 2010 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved

Friday, August 13, 2010

The fence is a dividing line. All that occurs along that line is of interest to me. At all leads to the Viewpoint.

Moon through a Hole, July 24, 2010
Copyright © 2010 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

This is darkness.

Dirt and Tree Trunk, July 24, 2010
Copyright © 2010 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved

Sunday, May 30, 2010

It's been a while since I last walked past the tree with a hollow. This is another photo I took in March. It's strange, but my mind is in March today.

Tree with Hollow, Mar. 14, 2010
Copyright © 2010 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved
It's almost June 1st, and I'm freezing! It makes me think back to March. As I child I once went door to door gathering money for the March of Dimes.

Tree with Moss, Mar. 14, 2010
Copyright © 2010 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved
If a tree falls in the woods, and there's no one to hear the sound, is there one? I don't know.

Fallen Trees, May 15, 2010
Copyright © 2010 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

The trees are full of green buds now--and the buds are about to burst.

The Lovers, Mar. 23, 2010
Copyright © 2010 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved

Wednesday, December 30, 2009

When I arrived at the Viewpoint this evening, there was an impressive almost-full moon. the sky was still fairly blue, and the moon, not officially full till tomorrow, was casting a strong reflection on the lake. Tomorrow I'll go back to see the blue moon.

Nearly Full Moon, Dec. 30, 2009
Copyright © 2009 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved

Monday, December 28, 2009

This morning the sky was overcast, very different from how it was even yesterday, but especially three days ago.

Looking at the View, Dec. 25, 2009
Copyright © 2009 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved

Sunday, December 27, 2009

A photo of the Sentinel and neighboring street from two days ago:

The Sentinel, Dec. 25, 2009
Copyright © 2009 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved

The play of light and shadow had an almost hypnotic effect.

Thursday, September 10, 2009

Blue Genie

Blue Genie
Copyright © 2009 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved 
archival felt pen, watercolor and gouache on Arches cold-pressed 140 lb. paper; 4" x 6"

When I was at the Viewpoint this evening, I noticed that the five lights that illuminate the park after dark do cast some light onto the trees growing in the ravine below. You don't much see this cast light unless you walk under the laurel tree, where there's no light shining in your eyes, our you walk right up to the edge and look outwards, towards the view. I'll have to deal with this further.

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Like Birds

I stopped by the Viewpoint this evening. There was a circle of five or six young people, probably in their late teens or twenties, sitting in a circle to one side of the laurel tree. They were talking up a storm, but once I walked into the center of the park, they suddenly grew silent. I didn't go any closer to them. It's like birds--you don't go too near, or they might take off in a hurry.