"Morning light, Florida," February 2006

Morning light

The morning was as warm as it looks. The blinds were drawn to within two feet of the floor on this floor-to-ceiling window, and as I knelt to pack my bag for the flight home, I noticed the light coming through the leaves on the plant. They weren't even necessarily that pink, but they came across that way at this time of day. It was among the last photos I took on that trip, getting in a few more shots before the drive to the airport and a few hours confined to the plane. It's one of those shots that, to me, doesn't show anything of note, yet I still remember the mood and the feeling of that morning.

It's been nearly a month since I've taken the camera out and captured anything fresh, and I'm growing restless, itching to do so again. Today would've been perfect had I had more time when I headed down by my parents, where they got more ice than we did and the trees were encased in ice and glistened in the sun as if they were glass. With the light at the right angle, the trees twinkled as if strung with lights at Christmas. Gorgeous.

"Speed on the bases," August 2006

Welinson Baez, originally uploaded by DC Products.

I could've easily doubled up on yesterday's image for some thing fast, but since this is the eighth day in a row I've posted fresh photos (I'd intended to get through one week submitting to a different challenge each day), I wanted to wrap it up with another new shot.

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November 2007 update: OK, so I'll double up on this one for motion.

"Rodeo Drive ride," February 2003

What you'd expect to see on Rodeo Drive, originally uploaded by DC Products.

Wealth is abundant -- and flaunted -- on Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills.

"New home, Lakeview, New Orleans," January 2007

Rebuilt in Lakeview

Much of New Orleans remains devistated, but in otherwise flattened neighborhoods, there are a scattering of new houses. In some cases, the new homes are the only ones on a block -- or a series of connected blocks -- to which the owners have returned: New Orleanians in a neighborhood without neighbors.

"Bone crusher, San Diego Zoo," April 2006

Eurasian bearded vulture, originally uploaded by DC Products.

I was thinking of talons or teeth for something sharp, and then I came across this big guy. I wouldn't want to face that beak without a cage between us. I'm shuddering a little just looking at it.

"Beer here," August 2006

Cheap eats at Trenton

Minor league baseball -- a cheap afternoon or night out and, often, cheap eats. (Ironically, the beer isn't usually that cheap, but I guarantee you that it's cheaper here, in Trenton, than it is in the Bronx or Queens.)

"Lilac No. 3," New Jersey

In mom and dad's backyard.

Winter hasn't quite hit New Jersey yet, but it's on the way this week. We're due for steady temperatures in the 30s, and that first snowfall can't be too far behind. We've barely had so much as a flurry. Other than a light dusting on December 26 in Johnstown, Pennsylvania, the last time I saw snow was in May in Wyoming.

Beyond winter lies spring, and with it the perfume of a new beginning, the smell of the lilacs that sprout up all purpley in yards and gardens and remind us to air out the house.

"Blame it on the Tetons," May 2006

In Wyoming, May 27, 2006

On an overcast late-May day in northwestern Wyoming, the clouds hang low over the Grand Tetons, which dwarf the bison grazing in the fields. I have no shortage of images that would fit the category of "peaceful," but most are stored away on negatives in albums on a shelf in the spare bedroom. My grand plan to sort through the vast -- albeit mostly mediocre -- archives and try my hand at scanning them in has yet to begin.

I can already picture some of the, well, pictures that would work for this theme. There's one of me sitting on a rock, looking out over a frozen pond deep in the Maine winter. There's Notre Dame's grotto at night, the candles illuminating the rocks in the alcove in a soft, yellow light. There are numerous snowscapes in which you can feel the cold and sense the silence of the muffled scene.

Just one more item for the to-do list.

"Cherry blossom day, Newark," April 2005

Cherry blossom day, Newark, originally uploaded by DC Products.

Every spring, everyone talks about the cherry blossoms in Washington, D.C., but Newark's Branch Brook Park actually has more of them. Or so I'm told. They're gorgeous enough, but we didn't actually get to all of them on this day, so maybe there was a nicer setting. But I don't know if any location can compare to Washington's Tidal Basin. Still, Newark's park is pretty nice, and on the trees that didn't hold their white blossoms, they carpeted the ground like an early spring snowfall.

"Starbursts, Rockefeller Center," December 2006

Rockefeller Center starbursts

I had to put up something new for the holiday, and this is one of my favorites of a recent holiday photo excursion around Manhattan. Dozens of images are in my Christmas set on Flickr.

Happy merry.

"Central Park colors," October 2006

Central Park Colors No. 5, originally uploaded by DC Products.

I don't care if it's cliche, overdone, banal or played out -- I'll always set aside a day or two in the fall to head out on a photo expedition to let nature do what I might otherwise do in Photoshop.

In this case, it was an afternoon stroll through Central Park before work. It was about a week -- maybe more -- too early for the peak color in the middle of Manhattan, but I found a few hot spots. I'm planning to drive west through northern New Jersey tomorrow to see what remains, though I fear that the gusting winds on Sunday may have ripped the peak color off the trees. We shall see.

It's seemed like a down year for the autumn leaves this year. The trees seemed to change late and not as uniformily as in past years. But a year ago, I did venture out into the New Jersey Highlands during the first week of November and came away with some decent shots, so hopefully more is in store this year.

"Inside the kitchen," Wyoming, May 2006

Inside the kitchen, originally uploaded by DC Products.

The destruction inside an abandoned cafe and rest stop on a rural Wyoming highway.

"Thin air of the Rockies," May 2006

"Thin air of the Rockies," May 2006

Cruising up in the thin air of the Rockies.

"New Jersey sunset," Sept. 11, 2006

New Jersey sunset, 9/11/06

So in America when the sun goes down and I sit on the old broken-down river pier watching the long, long skies over New Jersey and sense all that raw land that rolls in one unbelievable huge bulge over to the West Coast, and all that road going, all the people dreaming in the immensity of it, and in Iowa I know by now the children must be crying in the land where they let the children cry, and tonight the stars’ll be out, and don’t you know that God is Pooh Bear? The evening star must be drooping and shedding her sparkler dims on the prairie, which is just before the coming of complete night that blesses the earth, darkens all rivers, cups the peaks and folds the final shore in, and nobody, nobody knows what’s going to happen to anybody besides the forlorn rags of growing old, I think of Dean Moriarty, I even think of Old Dean Moriarty the father we never found. I think of Dean Moriarty.

-- final lines of On The Road by Jack Kerouac

"Silver streaks," California, September 2005

Anchovies, Monterey Bay Aquarium, California

Anchovies at Monterey Bay Aquarium, California. They're silvery, though the lights distort that a bit.

"Circle and the square," Montana, May 2006

Nevada City scene, originally uploaded by DC Products.

Even without a wheel, the mind's eye still draws a circle around the ends of the spokes.

"Trenton's four-legged batboy," New Jersey, August 2006

"Trenton's four-legged batboy," New Jersey, August 2006

Whenever I go see the minor-league Trenton Thunder, I can't help myself -- no matter how many similar pictures I have of Chase, That Golden Thunder, retrieving one of the player's bats in the first inning, I have to take more.

The dog is owned by the team and lives with one of the front-office employees. A handler sits with him next to the Thunder dugout during the bottom of the first, sending him out to the plate to retreive the wood after an at-bat. Each time, Chase sniffs and rolls the bat, often needing two or three attempts before finding both a balance between the weight of the heavier barrel and lighter handle and a section with not too much pine tar. Overall, the process, in the end, probably takes longer for the four-legged batboy than it does the two-legged one who handles the rest of the game, but the fans get a kick out of it.

After the first inning, Chase disappears until the sixth, when he emerges with his handler to run down frisbees in right field. It's tied to a promotion, where a fan earns money for each catch -- either $5 per snag, or increasing $5 increments for each one.

Happiness is rounding third

"Happiness is rounding third" series, New Jersey, August 2006

The mascot race at a minor-league baseball game can be hit or miss. Sometimes you get the kid who develops a sudden onset of stage fright as soon as he or she is put at first base with 5,000 people watching and a big blue furball standing there. In those cases, one of the team employees usually leads the child around the bases by the hand or, in at least one instance I can recall, picks the child up and carries her around the bases.

But some kids are truly happy to score from first with Boomer -- in this case -- or some other mascot giving him a head start or scripting a diversion that allows the young sprinter to run away with the race. On this day, the boy outran Boomer's scooter; in a race earlier in the week, Boomer carried a bouquet of flowers and stopped to flirt with the third-base umpire ... who tossed the flowers aside and clocked Boomer with an inflatable boxing glove. With this kid so thoroughly enjoying himself, I couldn't bring myself to choose just one photo. Hence, a series. So what if it's the easy way out.

"Roy W. Cottrell, Private," Montana, May 2006

"Roy W. Cottrell, Private," Memorial Day 2006

Private Roy W. Cottrell was a member of the 364th Infantry, a unit of the 91st Division that saw action (search for "September 29") in France during World War I. Searching elsewhere, I found a listing of some men killed in action on Sept. 29, 1918, in Binarville and Le Catelet, France.

Photo taken at Custer National Cemetery in Little Bighorn National Park on Memorial Day, 2006.

Beneath the Big Sky

"On the road in Big Sky Country," Montana, May 2006

"Sky high, Colorado," May 2006

It's not just Montana that deserves the "Big Sky" moniker. Sure, the wide, open vistas allow for the huge blue sky to stretch across the horizon. But Colorado has some big sky of its own, even with the peaks of the Rocky Mountains around you. Only something as big as the sky could dwarf the peaks in your view.

The sky is great for photography. It changes colors, it brings in accessories, it strips itself bare and leaves you nothing but a monochromatic canvas. It casts shadows or opens everything up to the light. It's usually seen as the background, but it can sometimes be the subject on its own.

"At the San Diego Zoo," April 2006

She's not one for portraits, so hopefully she doesn't stop by this blog this week. She's away for the weekend, so maybe I can put up a newer entry before Monday. In any case, we went back to the slope of orange flowers -- pansies, I think -- because I thought a portrait of her in her orange wrap in front of the flowers would be a nice blend of her favorite color. Unfortunately, we couldn't find a spot where the flowers blanketed the hillside, or at least approached a 50-50 ratio with the green leaves, but we still got a nice shot out of it. I should send it to her parents.

"Broken bat," Trenton, July 2006

"Broken bat," Trenton, July 2006

Brett Gardner lost his lumber on this swing last week in Trenton. I'm still amazed I caught this one. It's why I love shooting sports. There can still be moments missed even with the new digital SLR. What I love is the whole image -- the ball still in the frame, the barrel of the bat parallel with the ground and the splinters flying off in blurred motion from the space between the windmilling barrel and the broken handle still in his hands. Easily the best shot I got all day, and in the past week at several games.

I also definitely like the larger format I've set up for posting through Flickr. I still think I need to play with the template to even out the text with the image and get the right column to appear nice and neat without being too narrow.

"Peak season," Rocky Mountain National Park

"Peak season," Rocky Mountain National Park, May 2006

When you finally make a trip out West, it's hard not to find the views remarkable. On a late-May afternoon, we left Boulder and meandered up through Rocky Mountain National Park, where the temperature dropped into the low 50s -- though we kept the top down the whole time -- and the snow remained frozen in drifts that reached heights above our windshield as we cruised by them. As I do with many expansive National Parks, I'd get to one turnout or viewpoint, get out of the car, take it all in and enjoy it for some time and think, "It can't get any better than this." And then, five minutes up the road, another vista would have me thinking those words all over again.

"Riding the pinwheel," Coney Island, August 2005

"Riding the pinwheel," Coney Island

Growing up in New Jersey, I'd only heard about Coney Island, but it always meant summer to me. We, of course, have the Shore, but if you go up to the northernmost tip of Sandy Hook on a clear day, or climb up the tower at Twin Lights, you can look across the harbor and see the distinctive parachute drop, which now stands just outside the right-field fence at Keyspan Park.

I always thought of Coney Island as New York City's little slice of the Jersey Shore -- Surf Avenue, with Nathan's hot dog stand and the shops and arcades, and the Cyclone roller coaster and the entrance to Astroland recreates any number of New Jersey beach towns at the southern end of Brooklyn. Taking in a Cyclones ballgame and then wandering among the amusments, as we did on this night, did bring back some memories of Point Pleasant and Seaside Heights.

These hot, sticky August nights made bearable by the cool sea breezes -- that's summer in New York. Or New Jersey.

"I drink to your health," Boulder, Colorado, May 2006

"I drink to your health," Boulder, Colorado, May 2006
I drink to your health when I'm with you,
I drink to your health when I'm alone,
I drik to your health so often,
I'm starting to worry about my own!
-- A traditional Irish toast

Or, at least one I got from a greeting card. Taken with a camera phone at the Catacombs bar in Boulder. No idea anymore what the heck I was drinking that night, but it was good.

"Lost in the Mist," Yellowstone National Park, May 2006

I couldn't decide between the two. I like the vertical one for the scale and the bits of detail in the foreground and the stripped trees up on the hill. But I like the horizontal one for the simple solitude of a man alone with an umbrella in the mist. The combination of a cold rain on this gray May afternoon and the warm steam coming up from the Grand Prismatic Spring in Yellowstone National Park made this a thoroughly wet experience. It was like being in a sauna with the shower on -- while dressed. And I didn't have a raincoat, only a fleece.

"Plumpy parrot," New Jersey, January 2006

"Plumpy parrot," New Jersey, January 2006
I've previously posted a shot of these guys and intended to go back for more, but I haven't made it up the street with my camera lately. I should, because when the light is right, they come out so beautifully. I have a handful of other shots from this day, and even though it's a good shot of the bird, they tend to be in shadow and not as brilliantly colored as a result. 

"I-90 rainbow, Montana," May 2006

"I-90 rainbow, Montana," May 2006
Speeding along I-90 in southern Montana a few weeks ago, we passed through a late-day storm and witnessed the beautiful spectacle of the dark clouds to the east and the setting sun in a clear sky to the west. It created the rainbow and illuminated the rangelands and windmills (those three white specks to the left of center, receding toward the hills in the distance), not to mention cast a shadow of our car on the side of the road. Taken from a moving -- 80 mph -- Seabring convertible, eastbound in Interstate 90, heading for Billings. I figured with the shadow of the car and because it was taken from the car, it fit nicely the automotive theme.

"New tackles old," San Diego, April 2006

"New tackles old," San Diego, April 2006
It's not just that they're building new ballparks to look like old ones, but they're doing it in old, run-down sections of town and often incorporating elements of the past into the new design. In Baltimore, it's the old B&O warehouse that forms the backdrop to Camden Yards. In Seattle, it's the railroad tracks that run just beyond the outfield wall, beneath Safeco Field's retractable roof, when it's open. In San Diego, it's the Western Supply Co. building that serves as a ticket office and restaurant, among other things, in the city's new Petco Park. When you walk into these parks, the exterior and various details are sharp, shiny and new, but the overall design and feel of the place is decidedly retro. It's all the rage.

"Route 71, Nebraska," May 2006

"Route 71, Nebraska," May 2006

The road challenge was sent out just five days before I stepped on a plane bound for Denver and a week-long road trip with my college roommate. So although my photo archives are stocked with road trip pictures and, like this one, literal images of the road, I wanted to wait until I was back from the trip to submit to this challenge, even if it was a few weeks late.

This may be a common, even pedestrian shot to represent the road, but it's the one I decided to go with because of that in some ways, and because this is an image that brings up questions: Where is this? Where does it lead? Why am I here? Such an open and empty stretch of road -- in such an open and sparsely populated section of America -- is no doubt well-known to those who live on or near it, relying on it to get from their homes to any number of places. A map of the region shows that there are only so many options when traveling by car in southwest Nebraska.

"American bison, Yellowstone," May 2006

"American bison, Yellowstone," May 2006

It may have been May, but in the high elevations of northwestern Wyoming -- in Yellowstone National Park -- you can get winter weather late into the year. The day began cool and overcast, and it wouldn't have been a bad one to tour the park, but when we found ourselves getting out of the car in the rain to see a thermal spring, or when I had to tuck my camera under my coat to keep the snow off it when looking at the Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone and the river's Lower Falls, it got to be a little much.

At this point, we were on our way out of the park, completing the loop we had started and about to hit the road south that would take us back to Jackson Hole. We noticed ahead a car coming in the opposite direction that had stopped; the vehicle in front of us braked and I noticed, through the falling snow, a bison crossing the road. As we approached the spot, we saw that the one that had crossed was following another; back on the right side of the pavement, where the first two had come from, three others remained.

Conveniently, the two bison had crossed at a turnout, so I turned into it and we waited. The second one to cross stopped barely 50 feet from the road -- where a half-dozen cars were now scattered, watching. As the huge animal turned and walked back to the edge of where the macadam met the grass, one woman got out of her car to get a photo, and Bryan and I laughed at the idiocy of this arrogant tourist. She returned to her car without incident, and we watched as the three lagging bison made their way, one by one, across to join the first two. This shot is of two of those final three, plus the one who crossed and waited, setting off into the valley.

"Early morning, Lincoln Tunnel," May 2006

"Early morning, Lincoln Tunnel," May 2006
Considering that I'm nearly a month behind on my weekly indulgence of posting photos for challenges, I'll use this one to kill two birds with one stone: it serves as both a passageway and transportation, two recent Thursday challenges I've missed.

Now that I pass through the Lincoln Tunnel 10 times a week for work, I feel like I know it. I used to be fascinated by it -- awed by the feat of engineering it represented, intrigued by the observation booths inside it, surprised by the exit signs and the doors in the walls. I've always imagined a picture inside it, a flash-less exposure with a shutter speed long enough to blur it a little but not so much as to accentuate the inevitable camera shake as the car bumps along the roadway. I took this one in the wee small hours, returning home from a Mets game.

"All-Star baseballs, Houston," July 2004

All-Star baseballs, Houston, July 2004

Two birds with one stone. Baseballs are round, and this basket of them is full.

Done and done.