All posts tagged as outdoors

28 Nov

Santorini

In Uncategorized by admwil / November 28, 2011 / 0 Comments

 

I awoke to find myself in a strange land, far away from my Southern Utah roots.

I was on a European shoot, planning to cover about fifteen hundred miles or so. I went to my window and gazed out to the Southern Aegean, out onto the bluest of blue seas, 120 miles south of the mainland of Greece.

Santorini is essentially what remains of an enormous volcanic eruption that occurred three or four million years ago. It is a place of great beauty and history. I grab a quick coffee and my gear and head out for a trek up to the top of the city.

And I say up because I am staying near the harbor and the rest of the city is above me. Far above me.

Actually, the whole town is really a harbor of sorts. The city clings to the top of a cliff, looking down on a lagoon. The lagoon flows through a break in the sea wall and boats sail in and out.

I start my trek up, pausing at intervals to view a calm sea below. The pace of life in Greece is slow but constant, children dart in and out of alleys, women carry their groceries on a long slow walk home. A fish monger leans out his door, enticing me with a fresh caught octopus. A few men are talking, laughing, arguing about a lamb being barbecued at a small taverna , sipping their first glass of wine of the day. I stop and chat along the way, engaging myself in their conversations. I laugh at their observations and comment on a chess move or two.

This is Greece.

Slow but energetic, it’s pace a seeming contradiction.

But, my journey is singular and I return to hiking the narrow streets , up to the top to capture the City from a perch high above. I am determined. Determined to make it to the top to catch the early evening view. To see the sea of legends in the moonlight.

It is said that the island was formed after a huge volcanic explosion several million years ago. And this Big Daddy of volcanoes caused the entire Minoan Civilization to perish. Known as Thera, her fury is thought to have been responsible for the legend of the lost city of Atlantis.

By the time I have climbed to the top, the sky is dark. The sky is as blue as velvet can be, it presides over this ancient city and frames the harbor with a matching cloak.

The domes of Santorini dance across the rooftops like little blue hats. A place as old as time but yet as lively and timely as today. I glance down at people walking and at boats bobbing on the bay…a bay with winds that seem to laugh at the land above.

I have been to Greece many times and I know the ancient stories and legends surrounding the place. And , I feel their presence up here.

Standing on top of the World.

Standing on top of Santorini.

I survey the City below, knowing immediately where I can capture my image. I find it in my lense. And then, click. There it is.

My Santorini captured in time.

I began my trek back down those cobbled steps. But in the distance, I smell the faint aroma of a familiar lamb on a spit.


14 Nov

Brilliant

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

 

Photographers have a love of spontaneity.

An image captured with just a single click.

Just that one single click that freezes time.

But, I am a photographer who shares that love of spontaneity with a love of returning to the past, to places I have been before. A lonely beach in Polynesia. The ruins of an ancient castle in Austria. The sense memory of perfume wafting over a field of lavender in Provence. Pondering the music of the stones at an ancient Native American site.

So, it is with the thought of revisiting and reacquainting myself that I return to Oregon every Fall. I return to revisit my sensory memories and to renew them.

I load up my 4wd and head out, up to Oregon for a four day shoot. Fall seems to have come early this year. There’s a definite bite in the air and the birds are sparse. They’ve headed south weeks ago, leaving just a few hungry strays lingering.

I stop frequently to see the ocean, venturing out on the towering cliffs. The mist has a chill in it, a salty taste of the approaching winter.

I drive a narrow coastal route, remote and still. I stop for lunch and to wade the tide pools that are tucked like pockets into the bottom of the cliffs. Nestled into remote beaches and caves, they glimmer like dark jewels protected by towering walls.

I head inland, passing miles of trees. Their leaves have turned a fiery red as per the seasonal decree of Mother Nature. They stand in stark contrast to to the dark and gloomy day that surrounds us.

On the third day, I came upon an amazing tree. I had to capture it.

An ancient Japanese Maple, it was in the final days of a glorious and fiery display, a spectacular collage of deepening autumn hues. It stood like a timeless patriarch in a secret garden of scarlet and crimson, it’s beautiful branches bending like the arms of a dancer.

The challenge now was in finding the light. The day was overcast and dark like all the mornings so far. It was chilly and damp, dark and gloomy. It was nothing like the blazing tree in front of me.

I studied the best way to bring to light the magestic stature of grace and strength of this iconic tree. I juggled my camera  from a hundred different angles, hoping that some sun would seep in from somewhere. There just was not enough light.

And , as I was trying to capture the image from all these angles, an amazing thing happened.

The sun broke throught with a beam of pure white light.

Starlight.

I felt a shudder, a sense of elation.

Something magical had just happened.

It was Brilliant, my latest release.

01 Nov

Eden

In Uncategorized,William Carr Collection by admwil / November 1, 2011 / 0 Comments

 

I set out on my annual Autumn shoot in Oregon last week. It wasn’t my usual Autumn. But rather one with cloudy skies and thunderstorms. But you know, it was perfect in it’s own way. On the third day, it cleared some and I caught the warm days and crisp nights that I know so well…I headed out at sunrise to catch an early shoot at the Falls.

I followed the old road. It’s a winding old wagon road: two narrow lanes the traverse an old lava flow. Along my narrow trail, I knew I would get some of the best views of this amazing terrain. The mountains in Oregon are always favorites of mine. I think it is the challenges they represent. I would drop almost 2000 feet and catch the fantastic waterfalls below. It was warmer this early morning than in past days…fly fisherman were casting on the lakes, hoping to score some of the last of the season’s catch. I see things with the eye of a painter and the fisherman with their forms outlined against the shore and their poles arced, formed a painterly image in my mind.

I stopped for some coffee and to watch their lines dance around the shoreline, feathered flys bobbing in the early morning. My sunny morning had vanished into the clouds so I thought I best be on my way.

I jumped into my 4wd and hit the road for the Falls.

The drive is an easy one mile or so loop that crosses a firey red vine and maple laden ancient lava flow and then passes through an old growth of rain forest. From there, two spectacular waterfalls plunge over immense towering moss covered cliffs. The upper Falls dumps water about a hundred feet into a shallow pool. The water cascades into the pool and then trickles down through the underlying lava beds.

I was set to shoot at the lower Falls. It was very early in the morning so my light was bright. The Lower Falls streams its way down a two hundred foot glacier carved cliff, spreading out into watery ribbons along the way. Words like spectacular and awesome don’t even describe it. I captured my image as a light mist started coming down through the approaching fog.

I left the loop and headed for the River Trail. The Trail is a beautiful path in the Summer but now it was slippery from the mossy dampness. The river was moving fast, swollen from a freak early snow. It was punctuated with vibrant red and yellow leaves skirting down the water like floats in a parade.

It was still early in the day. But the sun was weak, more like an Winter’s afternoon that a blazing Autumn morning. The  trail was gloomy and a drizzle helped douse whatever sunlight I had hoped for.

I sat in my 4wd and was happy to finish the last of my coffee as the afternoon chill approached.

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”.

21 Sep

The Poetry of the Canyons

In William Carr Collection by admwil / September 21, 2011 / 0 Comments

A summer rain sprinkled across southern Utah, unexpectedly drenching me and the video crew I had dragged out before dawn. We had been out for hours, hiking and shooting.
We were deep into canyon country, the video crew documenting my photography while I documented the countryside.

We had come upon a field of wildflowers just about the time when the rain hit. Soaked, we waited out the showers in the meadow.
The wildflowers glistened, perfect for picking by my camera lens. As I was  shooting, I heard a rustling to my right, I glanced over and two magnificent wild horses came bounding out of the woods. Above them, a rainbow painted a swath of color across the sky, forming an arc above us. If telling stories visually is what photography is all about, then I had hit the jackpot.

The photographer’s dilemma…what to shoot. For a photographer, time is everything. And there is precious little of it. Three amazing things happening at once in a hidden meadow and the urgency of capturing it all, not letting a single second slip away into time. I clicked away furiously, capturing all that the afternoon had to offer, an incredible collage of nature.
But, we had to push on. We were losing the day and soon we would be losing the light. We moved on , hoping to make it to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon within the hour.

We did.

And the light across the expanse of the canyon was like the glow over Umbria. The rocks. The ledges. The cliffs. All were bathed in a golden wash of light.

Magnificent. Inspiring. Holy.

These are all words I have heard used to describe the Canyon. But, I actually think it defies human description. Only my camera could capture the mystery of it…it’s stone majesty frozen in time.

We shot like crazy before we lost the light and then packed up and headed back to our camp as night was falling, a few early stars in the sky above us.


Original music by William Carr

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