My friend Dennis Newman, who is an artist and an art/photography instructor, says that good art (including photographs) should invoke emotion. I heard him say that about a year ago and since then I have tested most of the photos I post here with this question: "What do I want my viewers to feel and think?" Not all of the photos I post have a certain answer to this question, though I've been posting long enough to know that what I feel as the photographer isn't always the same as what you feel as the viewer. Such is the nature of art. . .
A problem that photographers often have is that a photo that they have taken invokes strong emotion in them but is otherwise meaningless to their audience. And perhaps today's photo is an example. Many might say, "An orange float in a big, nondescript body of water? Big deal!"
But if you live where it is very cold (-9 fahrenheit in South Dakota today), and if you live where the world appears predominantly in tones of white and gray (South Dakota in December) and if you love warm sun and water (I do) and if you love the solitude and silence on a reservoir on the high plains (me, again) and if you like the color blue (guess who?) then you can't help but feel something when you see this photo.
And if I am the only one, oh well. Not everything I photograph turns out to be art. . . .
GoPro Hero III Black Edition 1/589s f/2.8 ISO100 2.77mm (35mm eq:15mm)

So today's photo is a huge leap from what I've been posting the last couple days. Is there some plan that I have so that I can keep my viewers off balance? No. In fact, the number of views I get when I post kids goes way up. Today's photo won't get a third of the hits yesterday's got. But that's OK with me. . . . 
Each year I donate a photo to the 
The "golden hour" is generally defined as the hour of sunlight just before sunset. It is particularly conducive to natural light portraiture, though other things, including landscapes and cityscapes, look better in this light, too.
I am in Salt Lake City for a couple days and on my first morning, I drove north to Antelope Island State Park. Part of what intrigued me was the fact that the island was connected to land by a long causeway across part of the Great Lake Lake. It turns out that much of the water had evaporated and so I drove across flats of brownish white minerals.
My friend, Scott, may dispute my choice of the word "hope" in the title of this post. I have no idea if he was hopeful when he took his rod and reel out into the gentle surf at sunset on a perfect October evening along the Florida Gulf Coast.



We spent this past weekend at Lake Okoboji in northwest Iowa. And while the weather was far from perfect when we got there on Friday night, Saturday turned out to be a great day to be at the lake. In our part of the world, fall can be one of the most beautiful times of the year but it also means that the nights are longer, the days are colder and winter is on the way.