Archive for October, 2011

20 Oct

Riverwalk at Watchman

In Uncategorized by admwil / October 20, 2011 / 0 Comments


It must have been that jay bird’s call outside the barn that signaled to me that Fall had come to Utah. It was time to walk the river one more time before the snow began to fall heavy. Lucky for me I live in nature’s backyard. Every season has it’s special calling for me.

I tossed my gear in my 4 wheel drive and headed out.
I drove until the road ended and the river began.
Rubber boots were the order of this Fall day…a day just perched on winter’s edge. I would be doing some wading in the river, some balancing on the rocks and some walking on the banks. Had to have those boots…
I hit the river with my gear in my bag. And be warned, this water’s cold all right. Already cold in early October. Indian summer over with not a hint remaining , I could feel the water’s chill through those heavy boots.
But not even frigid water could keep me from seeing the amazing reds and golds and yellows that painted the trees. Cotton wood,velvet ash and big tooth maples framed the river. The water was the ribbon that ran through it. And I followed the ribbon.

I shot here and there along my walk, the water creating a rhythmic sloshing along the way. As the river got narrow and became shallow, I started to feel the slippery river bottom under my feet. Large river rocks mixed with sand made footing beneath the fast flowing stream unsure.
I stopped at a small bend in the river to sit on a boulder and rest a bit. It always seems like every Fall is better than the last. The golds more gold. The purples more purple. The colors of the trees warmed by a late golden sun. The solitude of the river is centuries old.

And when sitting there, I reflected on that solitude. Waiting to get just the right light to capture my shot of the day, I pondered the fate of the Earth and savored my kinship with Her.
I felt a wild comfort in the healing power of Nature and I felt intensely that day as the water surged past me and the sun began to signal day’s end.

I got my final image just as the afternoon closed out. A royal patchwork of jewel colors, deep and rich with all the secrets that Nature holds. Now captured by my lense, I knew it was time to head out.

The chill in the air told me that darkness was falling. The hour of the wolf was approaching. I knew I had precious little time to make it home before it was pitch black. If I thought the water was cold earlier, brother, you could feel the ice crystals forming now.
My boots and I sloshed our way towards home. Some of my trek back was on a path above the river but then some of it was in the water. I could feel the strength of the water pushing in and around my boots, herding me along the river. Dusk had fallen. I had to avoid slipping into the deep pools underfoot that were formed by log jams and boulders. I couldn’t risk a fall.Especially a night fall in the icy water. The path along the shore was not much better, with it’s muddy surface and mossy slide.
I saw the dark outline of my jeep a few yards ahead. It was totally dark now. And the night animals were out. I could feel their presence in the woods.
Glad to be back in my jeep, I didn’t bother to take my boots off. Time for that when I got home.
I drove home to the sound of coyotes singing along the roadside.

14 Oct

Bella Vista

In William Carr Collection by admwil / October 14, 2011 / 0 Comments


I had been driving north for a few days, headed towards the Italian Alps, hoping to get some great images of the Italian countryside. I was on the “other ” side of Italy, in the high country…very different than Rome or the other ancient cities. But, ancient just the same. And, unique in its own way.

I had gotten an early early start. And, by that I mean dawn. Fueled by espresso, I was determined to find an amazing shot on one of my last days in Italy. It had been a good trip and I was happy with the images I had gotten. But I wanted to capture some of the amazing Tyrol, the Italian high country.

I looked at my watch and realized that I had driven for over three hours. I was deep in Sud Tyrol and the wine country. I stopped in Caldano, a beautiful city built by the Medici family to use as a country place as well as being a thriving vineyard culture since before the time of Christ. Time in Sud Tyrol moves at a comforting pace. Every day is a repetition of the day before. And the day before that. And the day before that. And so it goes for a thousand years. I took my time in Caldano, having my lunch in an outdoor cafe and doing a little people watching. I chatted with the owner of this small bistro and he told me his family had lived in this city for four hundred years. He gave me a couple of bottles of the local wine for the road and I was on my way.

I drove past a grove of olives and then I saw it.

Ancient dolomite peaks stood like soldiers at attention above green valleys and tiny villages.Those mighty dolomite spears, with a wide lap of snow around their base, seem to stand guard around the spring green lushness of the meadows below. Silently, stoically protecting all that lay below. The dolomites are national treasures of Italy. Literally a million years old, they draw visitors from all over the world, anxious to view their stone majesty.

My painterly eye drank in the spring, just when that spring had rolled back the winter and spread a lush carpet of green below. There was a newness, an untouched quality of pureness here this late afternoon, high in the Italian Alps.

I captured my image just before the day began to signal her shadows of day’s end. The afternoon sun was still warm, casting her golden embrace to the valley below and wrapping it in reds and golds and yellows. A wash of rusty purple signaled the end of the afternoon. I knew this image would be magical…I could feel the power off the dolomites in it.

My Bellavista complete….Now, where did I put that bottle of wine….

12 Oct

First Snow

In William Carr Collection by admwil / October 12, 2011 / 0 Comments


Peak fall color arrived in southern Utah this week above 8000 feet but there was a grim forecast, calling for oodles of heavy rain. Feeling optimistic I set out with my gear knowing that if the snow level dropped, I could get fruit loops color together with a fresh mantle of snow.

I got on the road to the Kolob Terrace and started to climb.

The road got snowier.
The fog and low clouds made pea soup.

That wasn’t gonna work so I blindly continued on until I reached 9000 ft.

A stand of aspens suddenly appeared mixed with every color of the rainbow.

There was an Aspen stacked fence, perfectly positioned, completing the composition.

These days it is oh so rare when earthly elements  align themselves
and speak “ this is art”.

Original music by William Carr

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