On 52 Week Photography Project — November

From the mountains to the sea and back into the past

The tasks for this month pushed my thoughts to places around the world and to my past.

So this collection of responses does not follow any pattern or theme, rather it is a bubbling of emotions, observations, and memories.

Mirror Image–Get reflective

Reflection, be it a physical manifestation or mental state, requires stillness for clarity. Nothing is more still than a remote mountain lake in the early morning.

This photo is the calm of Purple Lake, in the high reaches of the California Sierra Nevada Range. My son and I were hiking a 60-mile stretch of the John Muir Trail south of Mammoth Lakes. We had made camp next to the lake the night before.

The altitude and less than comfortable sleeping pad triggered an early rise for me. The sun was not far ahead as I made my way, camera in hand, to the lake’s edge.

My early morning session captured this shot. A photo of a place unhindered by human touch.

Majestic mountains, clear glass water and a soft touch of morning mist led to an easy photograph layup.

In My Life–Like the Beatles or not.

It is places and people that I remember, and nothing is more dear to me than family and home. Our house was in Kentucky. Originally a two-room cabin on a farm founded in the mid-1800s, it and five acres of rolling central Kentucky farmland became my parents’ project. The house grew, and the property was fenced.

My mom, an avid horse person, made use of the acreage for oddball former racehorses, gathered from the trainers and horsemen and women in the region.

But that is the backstory.

This photo reaches the core of my soul. One of her projects was a pony, named Heidi, collected from a farmer down the road.

Pregnant it was, yet she took it, stuffing the creature into our ever-faithful Volkswagen camper bus to carry it home. I can still see the red and white Volkswagen rolling into the driveway, Mom smiling and pony’s head over the front seat, head resting on her shoulder.

Heidi’s colt arrived a month later. I, as an intrepid sixteen-year-old photographer, joined my mother to record the event. The day was one of those chilly, misty, rainy days in early spring. Mom, who had once been a model, was in her usual rough attire.

In charge, as always, mother managed the birth, which went off without a hitch.

This photo says it all. That moment when all the jagged pieces and gnarly parts of the universe fall into place for a special moment.

My memory of Mom in her element.

Purple Haze–Like Hendrix. or not

Fast forward to my first visit to Barcelona. Earlier this year, my wife and I made the drive from Poland to Spain.

A long drive that needed two overnight stops. The first was in France, and the second, in Barcelona, where we spent a day and night with my wife’s daughter’s family.

A trip to a new city always offers an unexpected and pleasant surprise. Barcelona was no different. A very large sprawling metropolis of over four million, it has much to see. And, the way to get to those sights, beautiful parks, magnificent cathedrals and delightful promenades, is by metro.

All cities of any consequence have public transportation, rail system rumbling beneath the streets tucked neatly out of sight. Some are very utilitarian, others more tasteful. I have seen many, but stepping out of our car at the Passeig de Gràcia station, I had to stop and marvel at the station’s bold colors.

The dark purple set the royal tone as the other colors accented the space. All reflected in the shiny exterior of neatly kept cars.

An elegant way to start the day.

This Must Be the Place–Like Talking Heads or not.

Summer in Santa Cruz, California there is only one place to be — on the boardwalk.

I was in town visiting family. Camera had been in action, but my trusty drone had sat idled. On my last day, I made my way to the beach for a different perspective, to capture the brightly lit waterfront from the air.

Santa Cruz boardwalk is a class act. A place that completes the California experience. Great place for an evening outing with rides sized perfectly for a family of young kids.

In the evenings, they take it up a notch with an outdoor movie screen set on the beach side. You bring your own seating.

I didn’t check what movie was playing, but the size of the audience arrayed across the sandy shore suggested something good.

It was definitely the place.

The Heat of the Night–Interpret that, as you will

This last photo reaches into the past. Taken in a place that was desert hot, day or night.

Mobilized for Iraq in 2004, I served with the 1st Marine Division in Al Anbar. I was a senior officer, but my duties reflected my civilian training as a civil engineer. My job was to plan and direct the Marines’ reconstruction effort in Al Anbar.

A thankless job and a story told elsewhere.

I saw all aspects of the war, from the halls of Bagdad to the backstreets of Ramadi to endless irrigated farms stretching along the Euphrates River.

I have always carried a camera of one sort or another with me. Even into war.

I travelled nightly from one location to another. At each stop, when there was a free moment, I would pull my digital camera, a Cannon Power Shot A60, out of a magazine pouch repurposed as a camera case and capture the moment.

I took this photo in the early morning as I waited for my ride from Fallujah to Ramadi. A rather dicey trip that called for several armed vehicles loaded with ammo and steely-eyed young men assigned to escort me to my next destination.

As I waited outside the billeting area, the rising sun painted the sky, silhouetting the manned watch tower. Heat of the night burning into the day. The flaming red sky echoed the temperatures.

The scene evoked the old maritime, saying, “Red sky at night, sailor’s delight; red sky in the morning, sailor’s warning.”

A moment of color and calm in an otherwise violent place.

Thank you for reading.

And special thanks to Rodrigo S-C for the challenge. Check out his latest if you want a list of challenges for December.