Avebury Hyper

Avebury HyperThis image is a medium format redo of one of my earliest stereo images, and one of my favourite places on Earth. I backpacked through England in my youth looking for stone circles to photograph. I borrowed my friend’s Revere and shot about 5 rolls of Kodachrome slides, my first experience with stereo (outside of Viewmaster). I still have my first ever hyper stereo (cha cha) slide, in Realist format (two actually). This was my proud return. I found the same spot and set up my twin Lubitel rig. Almost all shots on my Lubitels are 125th and f16. I set the shutters by recording the sound they make using Audacity, and I don’t dare try to change the speed settings. In the field, this rig is a bear to set up, so I also usually save time by leaving the apertures at f16  and wait for bright sunlight. This way I can leave the focus at the hyper focal, so I can concentrate on the composition. it’s a hyper rig, so most objects are near infinity anyhow. I trigger the rig with two cable releases. One in each hand.

The stone circle at Avebury was described by the archaeologist, Aubrey, as being like a great cathedral, compared with Stone Henge, which is more like a village church. This image shows only a small part of the circle. A large part of the town of Avebury is actually inside the circle. The stone my wife Kamila is posing in front of is called the “Barber stone” since one of the medieval residents who tried to destroy the “Pagan” circle was crushed by this stone when it was toppled, and he was found with a pair of scissors.

Summer in Boise

From the winter of 2008, we move to the summer of 2008.  That summer, the NSA convention was in Boise. I went and took my TL120-1 along. Aside from the good time, good conversations, and good theater, there was great weather. I don’t know what the folks in Boise thought of it, but it was warm and dry (certainly not Juneau weather) and it appealed.

These were the two better street-shots of the two rolls I burned in Boise. Both are from a hand-held TL120-1.

Not Too Close / Plowing Prow

The winter ice has been terrible at the Mendenhall Glacier this year. The combination of snow, rain, and avalanches has meant I haven’t ventured near it, much less tried to cross it to get new winter images of the glacier. These two views from 2008 (captured with my TL120-55) will have to suffice. The area of ice pictured here is now long gone. In the summer it is open water. In the winter, it is lake ice.

Not Too Close

This image is taken about a mile and quarter across the lake from where I laced on my skates. Because of the current lake level, Scan000010there is a patch of stable, rocky beach here. Because of cliff and creeks, it isn’t possible to walk around the lake to get to this bit of beach. Crossing the lake is the only way. Everything off that bit of beach is in flux and subject to change at any moment.

The cracks parallel to the shore show that the lake ice has sunk, and may again. The white froth beside the green glacier is a flowing and frozen waterfall. There is another stream coming down closer to the camera. Both are flowing under the ice, taking relative warmth, and creating areas of thinner lake ice. The glacier is calving from above and below, even in winter. Because of all this, approaching the glacier is a dance with an uncertain beast. I hunt for images and capture them as I approach, never certain when I’ll decide I’ve gone close enough and its time to retreat.

This image was made early in the morning’s dance. The colors and textures beckoned me closer despite the poor ice conditions.

Plowing Prow

Closer (and farther to the left) than the previous one, I captured this image. My exploration is stymied. The lake ice has been broken and refrozen several times, Scan000009and there is water between the farther cracks. The advancing glacier has plowed up the lake ice like I might my driveway. Farther back there are pieces of lake ice resting 10′ out of the water, having been lifted there by the rising glacier. The textures in the ice in front of me still beckon, but I declare the dance done and retreat.