Taken: May 19, 2010, 7 p.m.
Location: Healdsburg, Ca
Late in the day, I went for a long drive. It had been raining on and off all day and as I drove along the winding, narrow two-lane Westside Road looking for something to shoot, the light was fading and sky, dreary and cloudy, hung over everything like a white shroud.
A few miles down the road, I turned around to park across from a local dairy farm, where I could shoot some cows that were grazing on the side of a hill. A squirrel darted in to the road but it juked at the same time and angle that I did and that was all she wrote.
It’s not unusual to see and sometimes hit animals around here. My husband, driving up our long dirt road shortly after we moved here, accidentally ran over a neighbor’s dog who had gotten loose at night. When he got out to see what he’d run over, the dying dog had the same flat-nosed face as our pug. Broke my husband’s heart. A few months after that, I hit a small bird that just like the squirrel, swerved with me as I try to avoid it.
It sucks of course, even if it’s part of living in a rural area. Confrontations between creatures and car wheels, gardens, lawns, swimming pools – are common. I hope the karma police give me a pass for the poor squirrel I hit last night, though.
Later, as I headed back to town, I stopped on a small bridge to take photos of the sky as it was rapidly changing from cloudy to light even as the sun was setting. As I was shooting, it started to rain again. The droplets were big almost like tiny snowflakes and you could see them against the backdrop of the bridge and the trees and the sky as if the view was an old grainy movie. It was strangely affecting, beautiful and I stood there transfixed. I stopped taking photos so I could breathe in the moment and then suddenly like a tap on the shoulder, I felt it.
I turned around and stared at the rainbow I knew was in the sky even before I saw it. Not the prettiest rainbow I’ve ever seen nor the biggest and I was caught in a pretty terrible position to take a good shot of it (which is why it isn’t my shot of the day. You can see it here on my Flickr page). But with the light falling rain and the rapidly evolving sky, the weirdly warming temps and the sharp rays of sunlight peeking out through the darkening clouds, it was breathtaking. Almost a religious experience.
Another reminder why I love being in a place where nature is always visible, always changing and unpredictable.
I had a similar experience the first time I drove through the Colorado Rockies. I had only been in Los Angeles twice before I moved out there in the summer of ‘92. My travels had been limited to a few places along the eastern seaboard, some spots in the Midwest for some sportswriting assignments and one trip abroad to England, France and Switzerland.
My first view of the West by car came at the end of my cross-country drive Washington DC to LA over a seven days at the end of that July. I stopped to visit a friend in Denver and then drove south over the Rockies, to see the Grand Canyon before heading for the City of Angels. As I drove up into the mountains the weather kept changing, alternating between light and dark, blue skies and white and following me through the pass, a heavy threatening cloud.
When it rained, it rained hard and more than once, I had to pull off the road because I couldn’t see two feet in front of me. But the storms were short-lived, just like every other weather change. I’ve since learned that mountainous areas can be that way, the constantly changing and evolving weather patterns bringing sun and rain, sometimes in the same fifteen minutes.
I was awed by the views, most of them seen through the ethereal mist of low-lying clouds. The high mountains in the background, rose above the scene with a kind of hyper detail, some of them snow-capped even though it was well into summer. I pulled over at a touristy truck stop to call my parents from a payphone so I could describe the scene to them. I knew then that, despite my Dad’s prediction I’d be back east within a year or two, I had found a place to call home.
It’s natural to wish you could bottle moments like this. But I think maybe that might ruin the rare times when you find yourself in the same place again. Believe me, they are worth waiting for. Like falling in love with the same person all over again.
Showing posts with label westside road. Show all posts
Showing posts with label westside road. Show all posts
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
365 Photo Project - Day 47
Taken: February 16, 2010, 6 p.m.
Location: Westside Road, Healdsburg, Ca
Since I was a kid and spent hours in my Dad's cramped darkroom developing and manipulating black and white photographs, I've been trying to figure out the magic of taking pictures. I'm attracted to landscapes and architectural shapes (and in recent years pugs, I say with a smile), but I'm mostly fascinated by light, particularly fading light. Mostly, it's a struggle for me to figure out how to take a good photo in the absence of said light. I could study on it I suppose but I try not to forget that my job by day is to write and taking a class is a luxury I don't have right now.
I find lots of help online and in books, but the ins and outs of aperture and exposure, of lenses and focal points, well most of that is pretty much lost on me. I know the bigger the lens opening, the more light goes in and longer shutter times are better at night. But like I said, I'm still figuring it all out.
Had to do a bit of running around today and on the way back from having my beloved ride repaired (oh no, I'm gonna need an $800 radiator repair soon!) I drove some backroads, looking for a new vantage point for this project.
I stopped along Westside Road near a long, wide open stretch of vineyard, next to a barn I've always admired. It's rusty red roof and white clapboard siding speaks of days past to me. It's part of the appeal of wine country -- the old stuff isn't built to be old, it actually is old. Not that I have any idea when this barn was built. Still, it's faded side paint and lovely winding driveway are picturesque, especially when you consider where it's sitting - right at the tip of a wide expansive of vineyard, framed by mountains way in the distance. My shot is grainy and out of focus and underexposed and no amount of work in Photoshop gave me exactly the affect I wanted. But I'll have to live with the result.
You might ask then: if I don't have time for this photography thing, why do it at all? It's a question I get asked all the time these days. It's a lot of work making sure I get one good photo a day. But it's the journey that's fueling this project.
My love of photography aside, I'm doing this for another reason. I want to look up, to pay attention to the world around me. That's why I didn't want to get caught up searching for shots -- if I concentrate on just getting what's near me, then most of the time I'm going to have to try to see the same things in a different way each day. I was hoping it would translate into my writing but I had no idea that it would be so pervasive. The observations I'm making in my physical world is seeping into my fictional one. I'm looking around the edges more, going deeper, investigating avenues I didn't know (or remember) were even there. Scary and fun all at the same time.
Like I said yesterday, you can be writing when you're not actually putting words on paper. I don't see how you can separate the creative process from the creator -- for your work to be authentic, it has to come from the whole you, even the places you don't necessarily want to go. Often, those are those are exactly where you mine the most interesting things. So my project, my attempt to see more of my world is helping me find more of myself as a writer. Whether it's making me better at my craft, well only the results will tell. I'd be lying if I said it wasn't kinda fun figuring it all out.
Taken with my K100D, using a tripod and manual setting. Edited with Photoshop.
Location: Westside Road, Healdsburg, Ca
Since I was a kid and spent hours in my Dad's cramped darkroom developing and manipulating black and white photographs, I've been trying to figure out the magic of taking pictures. I'm attracted to landscapes and architectural shapes (and in recent years pugs, I say with a smile), but I'm mostly fascinated by light, particularly fading light. Mostly, it's a struggle for me to figure out how to take a good photo in the absence of said light. I could study on it I suppose but I try not to forget that my job by day is to write and taking a class is a luxury I don't have right now.
I find lots of help online and in books, but the ins and outs of aperture and exposure, of lenses and focal points, well most of that is pretty much lost on me. I know the bigger the lens opening, the more light goes in and longer shutter times are better at night. But like I said, I'm still figuring it all out.
Had to do a bit of running around today and on the way back from having my beloved ride repaired (oh no, I'm gonna need an $800 radiator repair soon!) I drove some backroads, looking for a new vantage point for this project.
I stopped along Westside Road near a long, wide open stretch of vineyard, next to a barn I've always admired. It's rusty red roof and white clapboard siding speaks of days past to me. It's part of the appeal of wine country -- the old stuff isn't built to be old, it actually is old. Not that I have any idea when this barn was built. Still, it's faded side paint and lovely winding driveway are picturesque, especially when you consider where it's sitting - right at the tip of a wide expansive of vineyard, framed by mountains way in the distance. My shot is grainy and out of focus and underexposed and no amount of work in Photoshop gave me exactly the affect I wanted. But I'll have to live with the result.
You might ask then: if I don't have time for this photography thing, why do it at all? It's a question I get asked all the time these days. It's a lot of work making sure I get one good photo a day. But it's the journey that's fueling this project.
My love of photography aside, I'm doing this for another reason. I want to look up, to pay attention to the world around me. That's why I didn't want to get caught up searching for shots -- if I concentrate on just getting what's near me, then most of the time I'm going to have to try to see the same things in a different way each day. I was hoping it would translate into my writing but I had no idea that it would be so pervasive. The observations I'm making in my physical world is seeping into my fictional one. I'm looking around the edges more, going deeper, investigating avenues I didn't know (or remember) were even there. Scary and fun all at the same time.
Like I said yesterday, you can be writing when you're not actually putting words on paper. I don't see how you can separate the creative process from the creator -- for your work to be authentic, it has to come from the whole you, even the places you don't necessarily want to go. Often, those are those are exactly where you mine the most interesting things. So my project, my attempt to see more of my world is helping me find more of myself as a writer. Whether it's making me better at my craft, well only the results will tell. I'd be lying if I said it wasn't kinda fun figuring it all out.
Taken with my K100D, using a tripod and manual setting. Edited with Photoshop.
Labels:
365 project,
barns,
healdsburg,
westside road,
wine country
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