On Friday, I had a leisurely lunch and great conservation with my friend Victor at Fiddleheads in Hancock. After we parted ways, I meandered back home looking for photographs.
A while back, I photographed a derelict truck. Derelict buildings also have a place in my heart. I have passed this old house many times but never stopped to photograph it before.
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Monday night into Tuesday (yesterday) we had a wintry mix of precipitation. The temperature hovered right around freezing and, depending on the moment, it was raining, sleeting or snowing.
By early afternoon, the precipitation stopped and just before sunset, blue sky began to appear.
Overnight it warmed up some and by morning most of the ice coating the vegetation was gone. I wish that I could say the same for the driveway!
The first five photos below were made yesterday afternoon, after moving the daily ration of firewood. The remaining four were made this afternoon while on my daily walk down the road.
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I would not, in any way, describe myself as a portraitist.
However, some times one needs to get out of one’s comfort zone. Thus, I have volunteered to make portraits at the Antrim Senior Center for Valentine’s Day.
Last week, I bought a lighting set (LED lights, stands, umbrellas, etc.) suitable for portraiture.
This afternoon, with a 33 degree drizzle happening outside, I decided to get some portraiture practice. I set the lights and camera up in the basement and corralled the closest subject… ME!
The last of these photos is modeled after a late nineteenth century ancestral portrait which hung in my in-law’s house. The stern look and the unusual pose always intrigued me.
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These days, I often walk the mile between our house and the bridge down by the lake.
Some times, I take my camera along on the walk.
This sort stretch of rural road contains much of interest if one looks closely.
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Passing vehicles, leave traces on our snow covered dirt road that would be missed if it were paved.
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A few days ago (before the “big storm”) Joan and I made a snowshoe trek on Gregg Lake. I noticed all sorts of interesting wind-made patterns in the snow on the lake. I had not taken my camera with me on this day and the sky was overcast. Thus the light was flat and boring.
Yesterday, noting that the wind had cleared most of the fifteen inches of snow that had come down in the “big storm” from the ice and that the light was “nice” (there were high, thin clouds but the light was still fairly hard), I had the notion to head out on the lake again with my camera.
I waited until mid-afternoon, when the sun would be low but not so low that the lake surface would be in shadow, strapped on my snowshoes and headed down to the lake. The temperature was about 10 degrees F. It was about 3:15 when I arrived at the lake and already about a third of the surface was in shadow. I spent the next three-quarters of an hour chasing the edge of remaining sunlight across the lake and making photographs all the way.
The title of this post refers to the notion that, although all of the snow I saw was ostensibly white, in reality white is merely an illusion.
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