The Old Farm At Sunrise (HDR)

This farm has been pictured several times in this blog. Today, I went there before sunrise thinking that maybe I would get something different. I had it in my head that I would try doing something with High Dynamic Range (HDR) photography.Thus, I set up my camera on a tripod and exposed first for the sky and then for the farm and foreground. When I got back home, I used the HDR function in Photoshop CS5 to merge the two photos together. And this is what I got.It is certainly altered (or enhanced) reality. I'm not sure I like it because I am a fan of photos that are "real." But I also like to experiment and play.(Here's what the two photos looked like before they were merged.)

Shadow and Light

This is the fourth in a series of sunrise shots that were all taken within 30 minutes or so of each other. This photo was almost rejected (which is my way of throwing things away - kind of). The rejection would have been based on the fact that so little is well exposed on this frame. In fact I would say that as much as 1/2 of this photo is almost pure black. In my mind, that's not good.But, when I looked at this picture again, I like how the black parts of the photo frame the incipient sunrise. I think that how the water goes from black to deep blue to orange is especially interesting.So this one became a keeper.

Avalon

This sailboat is owned and operated by Steve and Kitty. It is a Tartan 32 (?) and it lives just a fews slips down from Wandering Star. It the kind of boat I wouldn't mind moving up to some day. Yes, I have boat envy. What would Freud say?

Mirror With Shades of Pink

As if to prove my point about redundancy (or obsession, compulsion, practice, repetition, etc.) here's a morning cloud shot.To be honest, though, when the sun rose high enough the morning I woke up in this back bay on Lake Oahe, this is the first thing that caught my eye: narrow, nearly pink clouds reflected almost perfectly in the calm, dark water of the bay. I also liked the silhouette of the land, which is almost black and nondescript.But enough words. . . Just imagine the cool, quiet calm that I was wrapped in when I took this photo.Or this oneAnd this oneAnd finally, this one

I Am No Claude Monet

Nor was meant to be. (As TS Elliot might say.)*But just as Monet painted canvas after canvas of haystacks in different light, I seem to photograph clouds at sunrise fairly regularly. Redundant? Just as it was with Monet, for me it's not so much about the subject; it's about the light. And the place. . . .*No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;Am an attendant lord, one that will doTo swell a progress, start a scene or twoAdvise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,Deferential, glad to be of use,Politic, cautious, and meticulous;Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—Almost, at times, the Fool.Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

Purple Dawn

This is pretty much the same view as yesterday's post, though taken several minutes later with no sailboat to block the view.Seasoned Oahe boaters all know that one of the most unusual features of the shoreline this summer is that for late August, things are still incredibly green. Pierre, SD, which lies just south of the reservoir, has had 8" more rain than it normally gets by this time in August.For the sake of comparison, check out this shot of the Little Bend camp ground taken in early September in 2005 when the reservoir water level was much lower and central South Dakota was experiencing a more typical dry summer. As I study the 2005 photo, today's post makes it look almost tropical on the western shore of Lake Oahe.For those who like analogies, check out another sunrise photo taken of the Missouri in mid-winter. The hues are similar, though the water temperature is a few degrees cooler. :-)

First Light In Mission Creek

I made the 15 mile trip from the Spring Creek Marina to Mission Creek largely under power since the wind was light to non-existant. The weather forecast was for good weather overnight and light winds in the morning. For me there isn't much better in my sailing world than to wake up in a remote bay with calm winds and the hint of a glorious sunrise. And this morning was one of those experiences.When I first slid the hatch cover open and put my head out, I wasn't thinking of taking photos. But right away I noticed very light fog low on the water, which I thought was interesting. I also liked the curves of the sloping green hills that came down to the water's edge.Compositionally and aesthetically, then, I liked what I saw. But the problem was that there was very little light. But knowing that the camera sees things in ways that the eye can't, I thought that I'd crank up the ISO and see what I got. And you are looking at it.

One Good Tern. . .

. . . deserves another, as the saying goes.The birds in this photo are least terns, whose nesting habitat, according to the Cornell Lab of Ornithology, "is found . . . on sandy beaches along the southern coasts of the United States and up the major river systems far into the interior of the continent."Certainly, Lake Oahe counts as "far into the interior", though they also nest along the Missouri River as far north and west as Montana. On Lake Oahe, they can be found standing along remote shorelines, floating peacefully on the water or resting on the rubber tire breakwaters at Spring Creek. Occasionally, their rest is interrupted by sailor/photographers who like to motor close to the tires just to watch the birds take flight.Lewis and Clark observed these birds and wrote about them in their journals. They even took two specimens for their collection. The birds were dead, of course, though I guess you could say the same about Lewis and Clark these days. . . .Living least terns go south in the winter, along with other South Dakota snowbirds. Where do they go? Mexico and South Padre Island are possibilities. But not Phoenix or Sun City.

Relic - Window Detail

This window was one of several that graced the house I posted yesterday. What is interesting to me is that a supremely isolated residence built on the bluffs of the Missouri River would like have been a utilitarian structure - a roof, walls, doors and windows.But these windows aren't standard windows, as far as I can tell. You can see the detail above the window is an added touch that graces the architecture of this place. I admire the spirit of a builder who adds a flourish that isn't likely to be appreciated by neighbors. This unknown builder was merely trying to please himself.

Relic

One bay west of what local sailors call "Hurricane Bay" a structure of some kind is just barely visible above the bluffs, which rise at least 70 feet above Lake Oahe. I have dubbed this bay "House Cove," though I'm sure there is some other name for it.Yesterday, I pulled Wandering Star up to shore and hiked up the bluffs to see what the "house" might be. And, in fact, it was a house - but one that had been vacated years or even decades before. There was evidence of electricity, though it was also clear that this structure had started as a one room timber frame building and then been augmented with two or three more rooms. Could this house have been some kind of outpost for Fort Sully, which used to stand on the opposite shore and which was vacated in 1893?I didn't venture in to the house because I was worried that the floors might not bear my weight. As I stood near what used to be the front porch and looked northeast, I could only imagine what the original inhabitants would have seen long before the Oahe Dam was built. And I could only imagine what kind of rugged, independent, self-reliant people might might have lived in this isolated home.(To get sense of the geography, checked out the photo on Panoramio.)

A View From Above

Another Sunrise

The sun comes up every day, of course. In my life, there have been close to 21,000 sunrises and sunsets. On a small fraction of those 21,000 days I have been out with my camera. And on those rare days that I have my camera, it is rarer still to have the luck of good timing and photogenic skies.But this was one one of those mornings.