I find that the photos you make and love most are a reflection of your state of mind. Some refer to this as the landscape as inscape. I haven’t written to Trailpixie.net in over a year. I guess I lost my blogging voice….a bit of a cyber-identity crisis.
This photo was taken in the winter of 2014. It sat in the queue waiting for me to write something and post it.
White Grass
Planet White Grass
Stonecoal Flats at White Grass was magical on that Sunday morning. I skied into the middle of the spruce glade and meditated in the snow-covered silence. The sun felt warm despite the subfreezing temperatures. The earth fell away from me in all directions while I balanced on top of a snowy sphere and let my mind wander among the treetops. I made this photo to capture that moment.
Too Bad About the Light
I was headed out on a dark and snowy day. The well-meaning guy, knowing my interest in photography, apologetically remarked, “too bad about the light.”
I take photos in all conditions. I don’t stop when the magic light ends. I don’t stop in the rain or snow or fog or dark of night. It is your willingness to engage with the challenge of these conditions that make you successful as a photographer.
There are too many excuses not to go out and see things and photograph them. Every lighting condition has something to offer. The dark and diffused skies of a snowy day provide diffused light with a giant reflector (snow on the ground) that is wonderful for capturing textures or even portraits.
What a Difference a Day Makes
Saturday (two weeks ago) was very windy and snowy. Clouds were sailing across the Canaan Valley sky, hurling snow through the fields with wanton abandon. I went skiing on the snow farm at White Grass. My hood was pulled over my hat that was pulled over my baklava. I should have been cold, but I was having a good time sliding around and taking pictures. Despite the cold and wet conditions, I was reassured by the fact that my camera is 'weather sealed.' My old camera wasn't so lucky—shutter problems caused by moisture led to its premature retirement. Not everything about good cameras boils down to image quality. My current camera is durable, easy to operate with gloves, and its battery remains strong through subzero temperatures, otherwise I would have left my camera at home and missed some great shots.
Sunday morning I was out early. The blowing snow was piled like sand dunes along the grassy hillsides of the refuge. Traipsing through the powdery dunes, I mounted my camera on its tripod and snagged several panoramic photos of the grasses poking out of the sparkly snow. Directing my camera up the hill, the winter grass above me was contrasted with the precious blue February sky. Paradoxically, the photo conjures memories of summertime at the beach—another hostile environment for cameras.
Wild and Windy Snow in the Sheltered Grove
It took winter long enough to reach this Trailpixie, but it finally arrived for a short visit last weekend. Friday at noon, there was a paltry two inches of crusty snow on the ground. By Sunday morning, most estimates said a foot of snow had fallen. The wind this weekend was pretty crazy, particularly if you strayed away from the shelter of the trees. As a matter of fact, here in the shelter of Baldy Grove (above) the wind was still driving the fine granular snow…horizontally.
This moment in time was soft, and, despite the wind-blown snow, the foggy whiteness was gentle on the mind's eye. The low-contrast scene was a salve for my distracted soul. The subdued colors rested my spirit.
This second photo was made near the Powderline shelter. We stood next to the fire in the wood stove and a heavy steam rose from our wet jackets. I popped my skis off and walked into the woods behind the shelter to photograph this vertical panorama. There is something solitary in a vertical panorama of trees…sort of the naive inverse of seeing the forest for the trees.
Light Snow Covering
Wherever you ski at White Grass, you are bound to find beautiful people and smiling faces. We came upon these folks posing beneath silvery trees as they waited for their friends to finish their descent of the Powder Line trail. I love how the muted colors of the spruce trees contrast against the bright clothes of the skiers.
Lower down the mountainside, there are more hardwoods—the hue changes from a silvery green to brown. When a light snow sticks to the tree branches, they make a chaotic spiderweb of intersections that tickles the eyes. In this panoramic you can see the White Grass trail sign telling you that you are at the intersection of the Cathedral and Highland View trails. If you see that sign, you know that the Sawmill Flats shelter with its snacks and wood stove sits just a few hundred feet away. Who knows, along with those snacks, there may just be some refreshments waiting for you too.
Ice Tree Morning
Purchase this image at marcshaffer.net
Some days I wake up and I don't want to go anywhere. I have a dull hangover from a week long binge of ordinary, everyday office-work. Despite my lethargy, Saturday morning I dragged myself out of bed, knowing I would feel better with fresh air and exercise. Two hours later, I was standing at this scene. The trees were coated in snow-crusted ice. Everything was crystalline. The beauty of the day and the exertion of exercise cleared my mind and focused my appreciation on the serendipity of the moment. I felt lucky that on that day when the trees looked like this, I was there when I could have been at work.
This panoramic image was taken along Three Mile Run at White Grass. It is composed of three rows of ten shots. It is a very wide-angle image, particularly in the vertical axis. This explains the strange appearance of the tops of the trees. Frequently people ask me why I bother to shoot such large panoramics. "Couldn't you just get a fisheye lens and be done with it?" Yes, I suppose I could, but I like detail. For this special image, I have posted a zoomify version that will give you a sense of how much detail I capture in a shot like this. Check it out.
Great White Weekend at White Grass
Purchase this image at marcshaffer.net
It has been almost two weeks since the epic White Grass weekend of January 9-10, 2010. The mid Atlantic weather patterns have returned to rain, sleet, and snow in a mixed bag of winter booms and busts. No matter. The glory of snow is fleeting, a constant reminder to seize the day and enjoy the beauty that is given. Never worry about tomorrow's snow.
This two-row panoramic stitch was taken standing at the back of the Roundtop shelter. On Sunday it was abuzz with the smiling faces of seasonal, snow-worshippers. Friends were to be found at every turn. The improvised stove and prayer flags represent the community spirit of a warmth and open shelter that White Grass provides surrounded by the pure beauty of wilderness. On the right, friends prepare to continue their trek up the mountain.
All over White Grass, there are dozens of little spots that I love to visit. This segment of the Highland View trail, just below the Sawmill Flats Shelter, sneaks through a grove of Hemlock. It's dark and quiet, compared to the snowy brightness elsewhere. The snow hanging in the trees muffles sounds, creating a soft awareness of your own breath. Often you will snag a branch of a tree and shower a skiff of snow down your back. It's very refreshing.
And then there is the gratuitous display of white and blue, snowy goodness at Bald Knob. Every tree was covered with a heavy layer of fine powdery snow. We stood at this spot, breathing, smiling, and relishing in the moment. No thoughts invaded our minds, outside of the fabulous spectacle of snow. Friends and neighbors skied by, smiling. Bemused happiness filled our hearts. Two weeks later, meditating on this photo, I contentedly recall a pale shadow of the wonderous feeling of being there, then.
Windows into White Grass
Last Saturday was the official opening day for White Grass Ski Touring Center. Some years there is no snow, other years, just a skiff enough to ski the snowfarm. This year, there was a delightful ten inches of fluffy white stuff. We had a luxurious season opening tour out the 3-Mile Trail to Round Top. I skied most of the trip with my camera around my neck. Making good time with a photographer never happens. We set a languid pace, and I took lots of pictures.
The word of the day was "vertical." We only skied about 1000' of vertical, but I took lots of handheld vertical panoramas. These shots show the bright December sun low in the sky, even at midday. The white snow sticking to the trees muffled the clatter between my ears, making it quiet and peaceful.
Winter’s Last Hurrah
As the last days of winter pass by, I thought I would go back through my library and highlight some more images that I made this year. This shot was made on a windy day at Bald Knob above White Grass and Canaan Valley. It is a very similar angle to an image I made two years ago in the first days of winter as the snows just started to settle over the highlands.
We also finally got a chance to make the acquantaince of Jonathan Jessup during a short photo seminar he was holding. During that time we snowshoed along the edge of the woods at White Grass and took photos as the weather changed from sunny overcast to fast blowing snow. I managed to make this photo while hiking with a dozen or more other photo enthusiasts.
One other note, trailpixie.net has finally gotten the comments function working again. Hopefully with the upgraded software, I will be able to control the spamming that had gotten out of control. Please leave your responses by clicking the "Add Your Comments" link below.