I appreciate fall, of course, mainly because of all of the changing colors. But at the same time, the changing colors also signal the end of summer. Frankly, I like summer best, mainly because of the warm weather and the good sailing I enjoy on Lake Oahe.
But I’m not complaining. And to have been out on a perfect morning like yesterday trying to capture the idea of fall in the Black Hills is hard to beat, especially given that my good friend Bill Z. was there to enjoy it with me.
One trick photographers use to recharge is to have a “project.” I’m not so good at that because I am easily distracted. But on our recent visit to the Black Hills I decided I needed something to get me see things I don’t normally see. So on my last day in the Hills, my project was “rocks.”
What I discovered, as I hope you see in this photo, is that there is plenty to look at. There is so much color, so much texture and so much to ponder. For example, it took me a few minutes to make this photo but the subject was in the making for a few million years. How does it happen that mountains get weathered down to smaller rocks? And what’s it like to be strong and sturdy after all those years?
This is a rare visit from a white tailed buck. . .
By Scott Shephard
I don’t know much about deer hunting but I do know that antler size and number is something to notice. I count eight, certainly, but I think non-hunting photographers like me see a male deer a little differently.
For example, how can you not be struck by the soft blue gray look of the antlers? Or the symmetry? And can you see that the very end of the right ear is missing? Or that his fur is somewhat wet from the recent rain? What else can you see when you look at an animal like this as a specimen rather than an object?
I make no judgements about hunters and hunting in asking my questions. Hunting serves a purpose and many see mildly domesticated deer as pests. Nevertheless, I think it would be illegal to shoot this guy on our property in the Black Hills given that he was attracted by the frequent feasts of cracked corn we offer and the nearby salt lick we offer to our forrest friends.
But I sit on our porch with my high power lens and fire away. 🙂
Another weathered and somewhat broken down oak tree waits for the resurrection that comes every spring. . . .
by Scott Shephard
I’m on a “trees in snow” theme. As I’ve said, as tired as I am of cold and snow in my home state, it’s hard not to be enthralled with the beauty of trees in snow. In fact, when I went out driving in the snow storm on this particular morning, I was explicitly looking for bare trees with snow sticking to them. And I found a few . . . .
Two bare oak trees at Lakota Lake in the Black Hills of South Dakota endure a March snow storm and wait patiently for spring.
by Scott Shephard
Children of the 70s may recognize my title’s allusion to the Doors’ song “Waiting for the Sun.” In the first stanza, Jim Morrison sings
“At first flash of Eden, we race down to the sea. Standing there on Freedom’s Shore. Waiting for the Sun Waiting for the Sun Waiting for the Sun Can you feel it now that spring has come. And it’s time to live in the scattered sun.”
— “Waiting for the Sun” The Doors
I’ve never really understood this song. In fact, there are a lot of Doors songs I don’t get. “Esoteric” might be a good word to describe them. Perhaps I need some kind of reality altering substance to truly appreciate the Doors? (I remember reading that the group’s name comes from a concept known as the “doors of perception,” which has something to do with LSD.)
Speaking of altering reality, no drugs are needed to understand this scene, though I have altered your reality a bit for you. I turned the scene to black and white (though it was pretty much gray as I originally photographed it). And I’ve cleaned up a few unnecessary distractions from the scene. So I hope you don’t mind that I cropped, flattened, adjusted and colored your view of reality today.
And, yes, I think these trees are “waiting for the sun.”
A March snow storm in the Black Hills provides a picture perfect covering for houses and trees.
This home is called “Standing Rock” by its owners, Lorin and Mary B, though the huge rock that is its namesake isn’t present in this photo. Their home isn’t too far from our cabin and on one of my recent visits to the Black Hills, a March snow storm offered many good photo opportunities, including this one.
This photo, incidentally, is the result of what I call “road hunting.” I get in my truck with my camera ready and drive slowly, looking for interesting subjects and scenes. I usually get out of the truck to get the photo but on this one I just rolled down the window and braced my lens and camera on the window frame to capture the HDR sequence. Lazy? I don’t think so – I was just trying to keep my equipment out of the wet, spring snow.
As with so much I photography, I have been here before. But I’m seeing a slightly different world. . .
By Scott Shephard
Earlier today I was wondering why I return to the same places again and again to take photographs and it occurred to me that it’s not just about a rut I’m in or just about the comfort of being in familiar places. Instead, it hit me that it is about practice. I go back to places I’ve photographed with new ideas and techniques to see if I can photograph something I haven’t seen before.
And so today’s post is about a return to a place that I’ve been before. The place is “The Rock” and my very first post to “A Photo A Day” was a view looking west from the Rock. And this photo shows roughly the same view.
There are many differences. One is the nature of light, of course. But another is the technique. This photo is an HDR composite of 9 exposures. Is is better that the one from 2009? I can’t say. But I like it. And, more than that, I like being in the Black Hills again. On The Rock. With my camera.
