Without illumination, there would be no photography. Even the worst pictures illustrate illumination. That being said, shooting into the sun illuminates. When the sun is blocked, an interesting outline appears. I scooted under a huge anchor to take this picture.
If an object is translucent, it acts like a filter shadowing what is behind it. To me this looks like a little alien carrying a pappoose pointing its finger at something. We had gone to a Luau in Kauai. The grounds attracted us back the next day for closer inspection.
The night before at the luau, illumination came from man-made lights. Since it required longer exposures, the photographer has to be careful not to move. When a tripod isn’t available, that is difficult, but the results can still be interesting.
Slow motion shows up when illuminated.
Some surfaces reflect back the sun or lights when the photographer shoots toward them. Nothing behind or underneath the reflective object is visible.
I visited Santa Monica to get this sparkly picture. My bird friend is well illuminated.
Clouds change colors when illuminated. Cameras capture the sun as it truly is, a gaseous object. People everywhere take sunset shots and it seems that we never tire of them.
Santa Monica at sunset combined both artificial and fading natural light to illuminate the ferris wheel.
I hope you enjoyed my beachy tour of lights. To be further illuminated, click here.
Layers conjures all kinds of images for me. As a gal from the Midwest, I learned to dress in layers, but layers envelops us at even more basic levels than that. These pictures all came from our Accidental Vacation to the Oregon Coast then down the northern California Coast.
For example, here is an example of the air we breathe. When we can see it, we can tell it comes in layers. The more layers you see, the less you see what’s behind the layers. In this case, a hillside obscured by layers.
Trees grow layer after layer, year after year. When we harvest the tree, we shave layers off it to shape it into a form that pleases us. Then we add layers of protective coating to it so that it stays beautiful forever. If we add too many layers of even clear varnish, we lose the beauty, and it can chip as it becomes brittle.
This next picture has so many layers that it distorts the picture. Layers do distort. This next picture has so many layers that I can’t even count them all. Maybe you can.
How many layers did you count, and what were they?
I love most colors. My house and clothes closet swell with many colors that reflect my love of variety and life. I love contrast. Blue might be my favorite hue because it is the color of both sky and water, it was my mother’s favorite color, my eyes are blue, and people compliment me when I wear blue. I’m a pushover for compliments.
My brother Randy and I took a cross-country trip, and saw many beautiful sights. A picture that illustrates some of my favorite colors is one of St. Andrews Presbyterian Church in Indianapolis where we attended when we were children. All the colors are crisp. I love red brick with white trim, dark green trees and perfect sky blue even without the clouds.
Here is one Chicago building I liked that displays many shades of blue. The color of aged copper roof ornament contrasts with the reflective glass panes. Set against a perfect sky, few pictures could show my favorite hues more beautifully.
One way to narrow down what you like is to throw out what you don’t like. This next picture epitomizes the colors that depress me.
I love green, but these green trees did not invite me to sit under them and have a picnic, nap, or a chat with a friend. These sparsely clad autumn trees said, “You are welcome to hold on to me to keep from blowing away, but I may fall over, too!” I love clouds, but these clouds are dirty gray, not even promising rain, just cold. Even the sand and turquoise water in Lake Michigan has a grayish cast. I don’t recommend visiting Warren Dunes State Park in Michigan in late October.
I hurried up to get this challenge post completed before the new one comes out tomorrow. If you haven’t taken a look at other people’s posts, click here.
I have to admit that I’m mad about Bravo Lake. It takes up about 1/4 of the area labeled on a map as Woodlake, and you can’t stand on a street anywhere in town and see it! It started out with great promise, “Bravo! Bravo!” sounds like an excited cheer. Something like, “Yeah, here’s a big beautiful lake. Let’s have a picnic. Bravo, sport!”
That is not what bravo meant in the case of Bravo Lake, however. In the early 1850s, when Tulare County was established, quite a few Irish settlers came to this land of plenty, seeking their fortune. Times in Ireland were not conducive to finding fortunes as the Great Irish Potato Famine that lasted from 1845 to 1852. They might have first tried their luck at finding gold in 1849 about 200 miles to the north, but their sights were set on finding a good place to grow some food. The Kaweah Delta was a great place to settle.
Not to stereotype, but you’ve all heard of the fighting Irish? In Woodlake the fight between two Irishmen, one a future California senator, gave Bravo Lake its name. Grace Pogue describes the death-defying squabble in her book, Within the Magic Circle.
Bravo Lake, named by Indians, was given a Spanish name.
Swamp John and Tom Fowler, two fiery-tempered Irishmen, met one morning on the shore of the lake, which extended at that time as far north as the Wacaser place. As usual, they were in a fighting mood and the battle was on. T. H. Davis Sr., exasperated at their continued squabbling, pulled out his six-shooter and said, “You fellows settle this scrap right now. Finish it up, completely. And I don’t want ever to hear of your quarreling again.”
The fight was on now in deadly earnest. It lasted until noon. The news spread like wild fire. In an unbelievably short time, a crowd of Indians had gathered to see the finish of the feud. Shouts of “Bravo! Bravo!” spurred the doughty old warriors on.
At last, Swamp John sank exhausted to the ground. Satisfied onlookers carried him down to the lake to remove the traces of battle. Tom Fowler walked to the on his own power and bathed his hands and face. He was proclaimed the victor. The erstwhile belligerent pair were good friends forever after.
The lake was immediately christened Bravo Lake by a pleased band of Indian spectators.
This all happened before 1889 because Tom Davis, Sr. died in that year. So my guess is that Bravo Lake was here when the white settlers came in 1852. That being said, I bet they could see it. From the street, I mean. It was the center of interest.
Today you can’t see the large lake from street level in any direction. I worked in Woodlake for years, and people would ask me if I had walked around Bravo Lake. I didn’t even know where it was, and it was in the center of town. Because the western section of Tulare County is the drain for multiple rivers, you might guess that flooding was common in the early days. That was a problem for these settlers, so at some point a levee was built around the lake shrouding it from public view. Years after that the Corps of Engineers dammed the Kaweah River, which feeds into Bravo Lake, eliminating the flood danger, to the best of my understanding, but nothing was ever engineered to make the lake reappear to the drive by onlooker.
In order to see this beautiful lake you have to walk up a steep bank and through a large opening in a tall chain link fence Nobody here seems to mind that. There is a beautiful botanical garden edging the south side of the levee. Houses rim another section, and the rest is flanked by well watered groves of trees, mostly olives. Along the brim of the levee is a wide, partially paved walking path. I guess that is how they placate the public. No one is prevented from walking around the beautiful lake. but unsuspecting folks driving through Woodlake on their way to see the Sequoia National Park would completely miss the gem of Woodlake. I think that is downright inhospitable!
Sally Pace and I walked around Bravo Lake for the first time together on February 12. It was so empty. I darkened it to show you how sad it looked, and wrote my name in the sky so you’d know the sky wasn’t really that color. The amount of water is real.
Water managers turned on the faucets and filled Bravo Lake over the weekend. Today I picked up trash along side of five middle school students, and their teacher, my friend Courtney, and the President of Kiwanis, Tony. We split up to get the job done faster, but we didn’t get finished, in spite of having the best equipment. Can you see our little pincher pick-up things?
Bravo Lake is the main attraction in Woodlake, but it is hidden behind a levee that is built up all the way around the .46 square mile lake to prevent flooding. Right now it is filled to capacity so that the runoff from the Sierra Nevada Mountains doesn’t overpower the Kaweah River Terminus Dam I wrote about a few days ago.
Saturday at 6:15 a.m. I will go back to Bravo Lake to help register runners for the big fundraiser for Kiwanis “Round-Up for Hunger 5K/2K Walk/Run. If you are interested you can register at http://www.WoodlakeKiwanis.com., or call Linda at 559-564-2485 or email email@example.com.
Everybody that sees Bravo Lake wonders why it is so undeveloped. It wasn’t meant to be that way. The picture below is from Pogue’s book covering the years 1853-1943. Can you guess the year in which this picture might have been taken?
One of my questions is when did Bravo Lake appear? I know it was a reservoir, #713 to be exact, but was it man-made or was it part of the landscape when white Americans first appeared in Tulare County in 1852? So far I haven’t found that out. Gary Davis and I poured over this 1892 Atlas of Tulare County that has been reprinted. Here is Bravo Lake, plain as day, long before Terminus Dam was built on the Kaweah River. The atlas was printed 40 years after the first white settlers appeared in Tulare County.
Notice that they have dug the Wuchumna Irrigation Ditch from Bravo Lake across the valley. Water rights in this area have been, and still are a much contested item in California. Nobody wants to share their water. Our region is quite dry most of the time receiving less that 10 inches of rain annually. However, there are many rivers, canals, and springs that are used to irrigate crops. The work of digging and redefining the landscape in Tulare County began almost as soon as settlers appeared. So settlers could have dug Bravo Lake, but did they? I still have much to learn.
I love this old atlas. I bought it from my friend, publisher, Chris Brewer. His bookstore in Exeter, the Book Garden, is the best place to get books about Tulare County. This historic atlas has the names of all the owners of all the property at that time. You can see Bravo Lake in the lower left corner and the property that belonged to Jonathan Blair just right of the lake. He was the fellow that pastored the Presbyterian church for 20 years.
“Steve R. Webb, Real Estate agent, had bought up a large tract of level land from Blair and others north and west of Bravo Lake. Now, to the utter surprise of everyone, except (Gilbert) Stevenson (millionaire from Los Angeles who had the vision to build a town around Bravo Lake),…, the lake suddenly found itself rechristened, and the town of Woodlake sprang up beside it in a phenomenally short period of time.” Pogue 37. That was in 1910. During the Great Depression, Stevenson lost all his money, and his dream died. He had spent the grand sum of $135,000. The reservoir remained, but Woodlake never became the developed resort that Stevenson envisioned.
In real life today it gets a lot of use as a walking path. Unfortunately it gets messy. We found a bur-infested coat, a shoe, lots of brittle, lake-permeated styrofoam cups that cracked into a million pieces when our pick-up tongs pinched them to pick them up, some cupcakes, an unopened bottle of beer, and lots of plastic bottles, bottle caps, potato chip bags, and plastic bags.
In 2003, Manuel and Olga Jiminez wrote a grant and started a botanical garden at the foot of the levee around Bravo Lake. On Saturday I will take more pictures of the gardens for you because I will be WALKING at the Run for Hunger. Or maybe I’ll take pictures before that if you sweet talk me. The roses behind us are just gorgeous right now. I haven’t researched the gardens just yet, but they are gaining recognition in the area. The new website, Tulare County Treasures has a nice article about the Botanical Gardens.
By the way, if you want to buy property in Woodlake now, you can always call the great real estate agent, Vince Ingrao – the honest agent I married. 559-799-9165
That’s why we put on make-up, and fake nails, hair, clothing that slims, clothing that builds up, paint our fences, and I could go on. So the reality was that the sky was beautiful on Friday. But the truth was that my picture didn’t show it right. Here is your proof – Paul Bunyan standing around in Three Rivers. This picture shows perfectly blue sky with no filter necessary.
And right across the parking lot the sky was this color.
A warning to future photographers: neither spit nor shoot pictures into the sun. Or is that wind?
Anyway. shooting into the sun washes out the sky, and I don’t like the color of bleach it uses. However, there are times that you either shoot into the sun, or you don’t get the picture, and this was one of them. I didn’t want a backwards sign, and I wasn’t coming back in the morning. So stuck between a rock and the sun, I chose the rock, and got rid of the sun’s damaging effect to my perfect sign and rock.
I fixed it. And it was so easy. I simply picked a color I liked from the many palates of color. Then I used my paintbrush tool and colored in the lines. I got fairly close to the trees, then I zoomed in by pressing command 1, and made the size of the paintbrush tip small. I dotted between the leaves – click, click, click. Now close to the tree line with a little blue like a Monet – click, click, click. Next, I went to the spray tip, and painted in a few white clouds. Finally I blended them with the mixer brush until I was happy that they looked natural. And voilá – a perfectly made-up sky, ready to face the day.
A dear friend gave me wool yarn from Australia to make a warm sweater as a departure gift from Colorado Springs. It was summer, and even in Colorado we weren’t thinking about cold weather, but certainly not in Tulare County where the 90 degree temperature recorded at 5:00 a.m. almost persuaded us to find a job elsewhere. I wondered if I would ever need a sweater! Was I ever naive! While the temperatures rarely get below freezing, sweaters are VERY useful.
This first picture, taken December 4th, shows the basic gray that indicates that winter is upon us.
Last January, while hustling to a meeting, the picture above demanded me to stop, and remove my camera from its bag, and click it. Where we only get 10 inches of rain a year, 99% of it comes in November – January. Rain could start any minute – and it did.
When the rain stops, dastardly Tule fog creeps across the landscape blinding drivers who can not longer see two feet away from them in the daytime! On this beautiful January last year the sun broke through, dashing the plans of Fog’s armed clouds that stuck close, protecting their earthly territory. Warrior Sun fought valiantly for two or three days to slash through thick foggy armor to free us. We have not had fog this year, but we all know it’s on its way.
Justice For Raymond, written by Ray’s Mom, differs from most of the blogs I see. The first time I visited it, I thought, “Wow could that happen?” So far in my blogging travels this blog challenges viewers to do more than like the article or write a response. The blogster says it best,
“http://www.denied-justice.com is a web site that holds documents, court transcripts, autopsy for Raymond Zachry, the reason for the blog, Justice for Raymond. Ray suddenly, unexpectedly died September 25, 2007. The autopsy revealed that he had a huge amount of lethal poison in his system. Still the coroner refused to cooperate and allow an investigation.”
In this season of giving, I need to pause sometimes, and think seriously about the meaning of life and my purpose for enjoying the privilege of being here. Thanks Ray’s Mom for reminding me that life is precious.
From this downtown Seattle Warwick Hotel handicapped room, I was not hampered from taking a few pictures from the window from my 9th floor room.
I like this picture because it almost has a 1950s art look about it. It was chilly, but not raining the first day of the National Council for Social Studies Conference.
You can see the rain spatters on this picture, and I don’t know if they are new or used spatters, but I like what they contribute to the picture. Too bad I don’t know my buildings, or I had to throw away as much weight and paper that I could to fit everything in my suitcases. I mistakenly thought to myself, “Well, I won’t need this MAP anymore.” WRONG! If I could only convey to you how little good maps do me – even though I understand perfectly how to read them. The never seem to translate into taking the right turns.
I have to admit that this chair was a total turn-off, and obliterated my love of the views. Fortunately for me, the staff took pity on my, and moved me to the 15th floor the next night where I enjoyed the benefits of a luxurious bath tub, and the following views.
Doesn’t this look fake? But it came right out of my own Canon camera. There were actually little people, elves, I think building that building you see in the foreground. I should have recorded the sounds as well. The view was so beautiful at night that I kept my curtains open – not the windows! It was cold out there.
The helmeted elves started before it got light in the morning. I don’t know how long they continued at night, but they were done when I got home. Trust me I was careful how I dressed because the elves were pretty close – even in the dark.
Off to the left was this magnificent building. The flash reflecting off the window again gives the whole picture an adorable fake look to me.
Better than the views – relief from the cold, damp winter walks.
When the mountain stopped me and asked me to take a picture of it, I had no idea that right across the street something was begging me even more to take its picture.
NO, it took more than a mere field of cotton. You guessed it – farm equipment doing its job.
It looks small and innocent enough from this vantage point. Wait till you get closer!
You can see why the air gets so dusty in the Central Valley. The sky was so immaculate on Saturday because it rained Friday night – our very first rain of the fall.
Don’t be fooled, You wouldn’t want your fingers down there. About this time I had slid down the slight embankment, and was rushing toward the machine faster than it was coming at me. In fact, it was ignoring me all together. HOWEVER…
As I turned from my engaging activity, I jolted to see, not 10 feet away, a white pick-up with a stern looking man sitting inside staring at me, just waiting. That was a little eerie, I have to admit, but I greeted him with a friendly apology asking if he minded if I took pictures. He didn’t, but reminded me not to get my fingers or feet near the cotton mower. HELLO – like even a 2 year old would back away from a moving grinder like that! But the slight reprimand was a small price to pay for being allowed to be at that place at that time with my camera in tow, fully charged with an empty disk. I didn’t ask to take his picture, though. Maybe he was worried that I was a safety inspector.
Ok, that is pretty obvious, but don’t you love the little opening of light following the mower? I did NOT Photoshop that in. It was an amazing opening in the clouds. How cool was that?
Just so you will be more knowledgeable at the end of this article than you were at the first, I want to clarify something. I mistakenly thought that this machine was a cotton picker until I looked online. I thought the fields looked pretty full of cotton still, but how wrong I was! This machine in my pictures was merely mowing down the cotton remains.
Did you find all my signatures? I’m getting pretty cagey, don’t you think?
Grapevine is a place, a town at the southern tip of the San Joaquin Valley. I learned when I first moved here that when you start to cross over Tejon Pass you say, “I’m crossing over the Grapevine.” It is quite a climb in just a few miles to the 4, 000 foot pass. In the summer you are warned to turn off your air-conditioning so that the car doesn’t overheat. That was not a problem on Saturday morning. My problem in crossing the Grapevine was that it was so beautiful I kept stopping to take pictures. I hope you’ll enjoy them.
As you are heading south, if you look to the southwest, this is the view you see.
What captures your attention? The mountains in the distance, the green crop, the patch of sunshine beneath the thick blanket of clouds, or the heavy sky? For me it was the sun turning the mountains copper-colored as I looked west. I hardly wanted to post this picture, yet as I analyze it I appreciate it.
Some of you may know without a sign. I was still captivated by the sun sneaking through the moisture laden sun-blockers to tan the hills. I couldn’t resist the texture of the canyons in the mountain sides. Mostly I was captivated by the falseness of it. When I was in school in the midwest, I remember seeing pictures of the west, and I didn’t think that the pictures could possibly be real. How could plateaus be so flat and still be at such a high elevation. How could the sky look so ethereal? But here it is years later, still looking like Tinkerbell could pop into the picture sprinkling fog dust any second.
Have you ever seen anything that looked so healthy? If I eat a few of these I might turn into the Jolly Green Giant. Instead I am just turning into the Jolly Giant.
I didn’t pull one up to check, but they look similar to the ones I have grown. Mine never looked this good, and they always come out short or twisted.
Yesterday you voted on possible covers for a Kiwanis magazine published in the foothill communities of Woodlake, Three Rivers, and Exeter,California. Thank you so much for your input. At one time I took a series of fruit tree pictures, and I couldn’t find them. I did find one picture, but I hated the sky. So I tried a Leanne. I tried to made major changes to it. Please tell me whether you think my work is believable, and if it does the trick, or whether I should stick to the original.
Sometimes the skies, even in the spring just look dirty. Sometimes they are stunning. So I borrowed a stunning sky from the following picture, and I copied it into the picture you see above.
The next thing I had to do was fill in the area between the part of sky that I pasted in and the tops of the trees. That was hard work. I started with the cloning tool, and got all kinds of extra tree tops, ugly dirty sky, layers of clouds, and odd colors in odd places. So I used the brush tool and picked up a light color from the sky and erased the weird layers of clouds.
I am not super pleased with the left side of the sky, but I’m not sure how to make it look any better. So what do you think?
Before I start this post I want to thank you all for coming to visit my site, reading all my posts, making wonderfully encouraging and engaging comments, and in general, addicting me to y’all. This is my 200th post. Today, I may go over 9,000 views. Who knew when I started this adventure that even ONE person would want to read my thoughts. I am so grateful.
Secondly, I don’t want to get so caught up in my blogging that I forget to vote, and I don’t want you to either. So if you are reading this and need to go vote, just go. I’ll still be here when you get back.
I met a wonderful woman while battling the Hawaiian surf old-lady style. On our last day there she told me about Iao Valley State Park where we had not visited. So before we went to the airport we spent an hour or more hiking around this park wondering how in the world the ancient warriors ever hid behind this needle.
So up we go to see this big needle that was a famous hiding ground for ancient warriors. What did THEY do before these steps were here?
The climb was easy because we both stopped so much to take pictures. We didn’t even try to stay together. I got sidetracked by a spider web sparkling in the sun that wouldn’t cooperate. Needle-like FOCUS Marsha. (Self-talk is good.)
OK there it is. Splendid view, and we are not even close to the viewing area!
Oh NO. Don’t Do It, Mr. Buff Man.
V and the French people made it to the top. Of COURSE I did, too. I’m taking the picture. Still, we’re not very close to the Needle. So how DID those warriors get there? It’s still quite a climb.
And what a journey down was. It wasn’t raining while we were there, but with this lush vegetation, you could well imagine that it should have been.
Instead people were frolicking in the water. With my inability to keep my feet under me on flat land, I didn’t try walking on boulders with cool river waters gurgling over them.
There was something for everybody at this park.
What is HE doing?
Where did HE go?
Realistic costume Spiderman! Nice crib, too!
They were all waiting and looking. Nobody could find him. It was like trying to find a needle in a haystack.
I met this lovely woman from Bakersfield, CA lounging on the rocks just enjoying the shade. The day was hot, about 86 degrees and muggy.
Finally, V and I met up at the entrance and sat in the shade and watched the vog roll in. Vog was a result of the smoldering volcano ash from a nearby island. It’s no healthier for you than smog, but we sat and breathed it in for a while just to get a feel for the place.
With a needle this big, who needs a haystack? I have to say, this needle is a little disturbing. Cross my heart and hope not to die, I wouldn’t want IT in MY eye.
I would really love to learn to do animation, however, for now, that skill is just going to be left for the future.
I thought this was a wonderful picture of a wonderful sunrise that my husband snapped. What I have learned to do with Photoshop I think also borders on superbly wonderful. Let me share them with you as well.
This first layer played with brightness and contrast.
This next layer builds on the last layer by remodeling the hue. I took out a bit of the blue.
I thought it was pretty wonderful when I removed all the color. There’s just something about an old black and white, that makes the dramatic even more dramatic.
This was my last transformation with this picture before my eyes closed. I posterized it.
As I listen to my new audio books, I can hardly think to write. My first listen is David Copperfield. To think I missed this when I was in high school, or even college. The result is that I am going to share with you the beautiful sunrise pictures my husband took a few weeks ago..
I don’t usually keep my views to myself, but these are a few I haven’t aired. Granted they are not the best quality, but I thought they were worth taking up cyberspace to air them. I hope you will agree.
What fascinated me today was the sky. On the way home from work in the west was a block of grisly gray from high in the sky to the ground. On the east was a dust devil. That just seemed wrong, but what was really wrong was that I didn’t have my camera. So I got it out when I came home.
Fortunately for me, the sky stayed diverse long enough for me to get tired of taking pictures.
By the way you don’t want to plant eucalyptus trees too near your pool. They don’t clean up after themselves. I faced east as I took these first two pictures. Watch when I turn about 135 degrees.
Gray adds depth and interest to the sky, maybe even to one’s life if you believe the philosophers. As a hair color, and according to my fashion expert and co-worker, Glenn, gray should not be an option in my wardrobe either. But it looks nice if the sky is wearing a little of it – in places.
What made this evening particularly interesting was the next turn. Looking straight south you could almost imagine yourself in another world.
You should neither spit into the wind nor take pictures into the sun. But in the spirit of providing you all with an accurate recording today’s sky display, I did it anyway. If you live in the midwest or east, these skyscapes may not seem spectacular to you. But in this area if you have something other than dusky,cloudless, lifeless blue, you grab your camera and point up.