The beauty of back lighting

First, an announcement: this is NOT a post about the arrival of autumn, despite all those brilliant colors. But, the fact is that autumn leaves are excellent examples of just how back lighting enhances subjects that are translucent or transparent.

Two good examples: the maple (above) and the aspen (below). Very simple: the light passing through the leaves emphasizes the color.

In this case, back lighting creates a splash of brilliant red in between much darker greens. The red of the leaves below contrasts with the drab leaves on the ground which are lit with reflected light.


Last year, I became fascinated by the nasturtium. Here are two portraits of a single flower, dark against the bright outdoors (above) and brilliantly back lit (below). In truth, I find it difficult to choose between the treatments. How about you? Which do you prefer, hot or dark?

Virginia creeper, one of this town's major autumn showpieces, goes from drab (above) to brilliant red (below), depending upon the direction of the light. It really needs that sunlight streaming through the leaves.

Even if the creeper has not turned deep red, back lighting hypes the color (above, below).

What greens! Classic ivy glows given the right lighting -- as do the big leaves below.

Ditto for colored glass, whether it's an alien blue sun or colorful, collectible tableware at a McCormick Street antiquery.

Perhaps my most favorite use of transmitted light is the yard ornamentation I found along Gail Gardner one day. The home owner had simply filled big juice bottles with colored water and let the sun do the rest.

Links for the Day: Have you ever had a chance to study the underside of a hummingbird? Boonie caught a fascinating view from beneath; the little guys' tails make them look sorta like shrimp! The current fad for home grown eggs caught the attention of s. weasel, who comments about diapers being sold so that one's beloved family hen can roam the house. Plus: one of our bloggers, Sadira of Foolsewoode, was featured in this article in today's Courier.

More Professional Decor

I confess to a fascination with office decor, in particular the art found in local offices. Nor am I talking about the insipid, generic factory painting that winds up in hotel rooms. Quite the contrary. My family doctor features excellent, evocative water colors of western subjects painted by his mother; at an audiologists' office, I discovered an interesting photographic enlargement of one of the last Santa Fe trains passing through the Dells. Then there are the fine kachinas and old quilts that make my wait for xrays at Medwise more endurable, not to mention the excellent Indian art collection at the downtown Bank of America.

All of which brings me up to date. My annual checkup came due recently, to be followed by the annual visit to the medical lab for the usual panel of tests. The lobby of Bradshaw Mountain Lab is not a very exciting place to sit as you wait to let blood. However, I did take a closer look at the current exhibit this morning.

Photography, in this case. Furthermore, student photography. High school student work. Prescott High School.

And, as you can see through the transparent wrappings, almost entirely black & white photography, at that. I'm always surprised when the arcane chemistry of silver images resurfaces in this age of the digital everything. Particularly on the part of high school students, who tend to be champions of the latest and disparagers of the old and klunky. Admittedly, there is a grand b&w photo lab over at Prescott College, but then it is part of the art department.

It pleases me that at least a small group of youngsters are serving an apprenticeship in yesterday's arts. Their work will still be around when the lights go out. On the other hand, I served my time in the lab; I'm more than happy with the freedom afforded by the digital revolution.

White Spar wildfire remains

My LH hated I-17; that's the reason we drove the White Spar so many times over the years to visit my mom when she lived down in Sun City. And I have to grant that all those curves take one through beautiful mountain scenery. Besides, if you drive up I-17, you completely miss the pines as you enter Prescott. (Of course, when I was a kid, SR 89 (then US 89) was the only paved road between Phoenix and US 66 across the top of Arizona -- and considered a very fine highway, indeed.)

Returning from out desert excursion Sunday, the dotter drove us back via the White Spar, which is now a heavy-duty reminder of the 2002 Indian Fire that came within three miles of downtown Prescott. The scenery on both sides of the highway consists of dead snags and downed trees for several miles.

Plus an occasional cluster of trees that survived, but lost their lower branches.

There's only one good change as we wait many years for the trees to grow back -- it is now possible to get a good view of the White Spar mountain for which the road was named. Because the big quartz outcroppings were previously hidden by ponderosas, I had never realized exactly why the road got its name -- even though one of my uncles worked for the highway department back in the aught-20s when the road was built.

Linkables: Remember our last storm? Dagny got a beautiful image of Thumb Butte in the clouds (and from her office window, yet!) And, speaking of photography, here's the URL for the Prescott Camera Club.

Not your everyday 3-in-1 printer!

Fellow blogger, techie Rich Charpentier has just joined the Prescott art community with a bang. Over at the Ian Russell Gallery is a display of his photographs of the local scene , processed into spectacular, sometimes other-worldly HDR prints -- a technique from the age of PhotoShop and its successors. Dotter & I paid a call on Rich yesterday (below); I wanted to get a good look at his fancy new machinery & she (OmegaMom) wanted to buy one of his prints. We both achieved our goals.

Here it is, in the gallery back room: Rich's new HP printer for high-res, high fidelity giclee prints from photographs, paintings or other art work. Take a look at those ink cartridges, not one of the six is a standard printer color -- these are among the extra inks that are needed for exact matching of the colors in a work of art. All told, the printer uses 12 separate colors, including three blacks! Rich's business is the first and only such service in this area. In fact, the prices are reasonable enough that I am thinking of ordering a few large prints from my LH's wonderful nature photography.

Did I mention that Rich's machine also makes H*U*G*E prints?

This reproduction of a painting of Thumb Butte was printed on canvas -- just one of the possibilities of the new technologies. Do I sound enthusiastic? Yes, I am. Indeed.

A close-up on autumn

Color me lazy or slow on the uptake. However, after more than a year, I think I finally have the macro setting on my little Canon figured out and under control. If you had seen the pocket-sized "manual" that came with the camera, dense with pithy explanations of all manner of bells and whistles, you might have floundered as I did over recent months. More likely not. Anyhow, I tested the new insight on a short neighborhood walk on Tuesday and am reasonably pleased with the results. Especially the blurred out backgrounds, which certainly set off the in-focus subject.

This is my annual picture of a squaw bush leaf, taken to prove that yes, Virginia, we do have fall colors in Arizona. What's neat about this particular plant is that the leaves appear to have been hand-painted individually. And, of course, it's one of our few autumn sources of flaming red.

Little round seed heads are a good challenge for the camera; I think that it passed this test, thank you. Seed pods are among my favorite photographic subjects; it's easy to see the reason. My only problem: the archives are so full of pod pix that it's hard to pare down the likelies for a blog post.

Other round forms: an oak gall (above) and developing datura seedpod (below). Just today I became aware that rosy oak apples are suddenly "ablossom" in local scrub oaks; they are another type of insect gall. For some reason, gall-forming wasps are particularly fond of oak; of course, it might well be that the oak galls are simply more visible.

I don't know quite what's up with the mistletoe above; are those tiny yellow thingies a different form of flower for a late season bloom?

These flowers are all business, foregoing pretty petals. Even so, the clusters of tassels are quite pretty in themselves.

OK, not a macro shot, but I was mesmerized by the pattern of the overlapping pine needles and decided to share the vision. A developing cone is nestled in the center of the cluster of needles below. The cone looks as if it had been painted green.

Grasses are as inviting as those round white seed pods at the top of the page. A big frustration is that as one finds a likely sprig and begins to focus in, the gods immediately whip up a breeze or even a wind. Thank goodness for the digital camera which makes it possible to keep shooting until one sneaks an exposure in between the little bursts of moving air.

Linkage: Check out Mindbird for a fine collection of books, maps and field manuals; for Arizona, the Grand Canyon and the Mojave Desert; you'll also find an excellent photo collection of Mojave (and Arizona) wildflowers by Mindbird here. And I thank Avus for turning me on to the imaginative corpus clock with its grasshopper claw; at Utube. BTW, if you like, Avus will take you on a 50-mile bicycle trip through beautiful English countryside.

No photos please

Can't figure this guy out. He runs a small shop on Whiskey Row that's chockablock full of hats. For the cowboy, the biker, the hiker, the golfer. You name it, he has a suitable hat. Even for Dr. Seuss' famous feline. You'd think he'd like publicity, exposure, getting the word out. And pictures on the Internet. But no way! Look at those signs plastered on the door. The act of photography somehow falls in the same category as soda pop (or beer) and sticky candy. The drinks & food I understand. But photos??? I can't believe that he offers totally custom, one-of-a-kind toppers that might potentially be copied by a spy serving a factory over in China. I guess one can't be too careful these days.

PS -- I did get some pictures inside last fall when the Aussie Bro was visiting. He bought himself a fine cheesecutter, which I'll show some day when I do my HATS post.

Walking Prescott, 50-strong

Prescott Photo Walk 2008. We gathered at the Sharlot Hall Museum grounds, 50 strong, to celebrate our town in picture. Only two hours to discover all manner of sights, from the museum grounds to the Whiskey Row alley to Courthouse Square. I was as fascinated with the photographers as I was with an area of town I've walked with my camera many, many times.

The Corn Mother -- from a different angle, one that I can only wist after at my age and condition!

Ditto for this close-up in the alley. Not to mention a dash up several inviting staircases, such as the cool, angular set at the city parking garage below. Did I mention that the day was clear, which means that it was Hot -- and the lighting Garish, not something one can easily PhotoShop away.

The crowd reached the courthouse. Here (above and below) are two opportunities to play Count the Cameras!

At the end of the trail, refreshment time at Pangea Bakery, inside with the air conditioning and outside with a breeze.

Even though it was time to relax, more than one last photo was taken -- after all, we had clouds finally forming after a week of hot and dry.

And here's Rich, who organized the entire affair. Many thanks to you, Rich. And just in case you'd like to see some wonderful pictures of Prescott, just hop over to Flickr. FYI, a similar event was happening in many cities around the world. Scott Kelby, a PhotoShop guru, was the mastermind.