2013
Returning to New Mexico and the splendid variation of topography along its eastern edge, offering spectacular views of its high desert scenery.
North of Santa Fe, 70 miles along the east side of the Rio Grande, lies the western base of the Sangre de Cristo mountains. With a year-round population of nearly 6,000, Taos’ population expands considerably during the winter, as the excellent skiing in Taos is often compared to Jackson Hole.
Taos sits on the eastern edge of the Taos plateau at an elevation of 7,000′, while the mountains further west above Taos soar to 11,000–12,000′.
2017
An Alive Mountain. One of the more compelling landscapes I’ve encountered.
I must return to make more images.
2017
A Visual Feast of An Alive Mountain
Water constantly bubbling up out of the ground — everywhere — then rushing down the mountain, forming hundreds of waterfalls throughout the surrounding forest’s beautiful autumn colors. All of this being the result of complex underground karstic limestone dissolution occurring since the end of the last ice age 12,000 to 15,000 years ago.
How then, to capture this unceasing bubbling motion against the otherwise still mountain?
2017
Founded in 1949, Croatia’s Plitvice Lakes National Park, at its border with Bosnia and Herzegovina, is about 40 miles east of the Adriatic coast. One of the oldest and the largest national park in Croatia, Plitvice Lakes was added to the UNESCO World Heritage register in 1979.
The Plitvice Lakes were formed in a depression between Mala Kapela mountain to the west and the Plitesevica mountain to the east, within the Dinaric Alps. Its 16 lakes, visible from the surface are grouped into 12 upper, four lower lakes.
Between a narrow opening in the mountains to the south, and the Korona River exiting to the north, through a steep and narrow draw that accommodates the entire 3,000′ altitude differential within the park.
The underground configuration of the Plitvice Lakes consists of geologic features attributed to the southeast European Karsk of brittle porous limestone, which allows rivers to drain away through the rock to create extensive underground river systems, and caves. Upon reaching hard rock, rivers emerge on the surface. The phenomenon of underground karst rivers, observed at Plitvice Lakes, are the result of century-old processes of sedimentation of chalk, which is abundantly available in the waters of this karst area.
Geologically, the phenomena molding the Plitvice Lakes is quite young. According to radiocarbon datings, the complex processes of dissolution and sedimentation of limestone require specific climatic preconditions, which have only existed since the end of the ice age 12,000 to 15,000 years ago.
Plitvice National Park is spectacular! Constantly flowing waters bubbling up and out of the ground everywhere, then flowing downward steeply, causing hundreds of waterfalls – all against the beautiful mountain sky, striking autumn colors, and awesome light. What a visual feast!
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2018
For the fifteen years I’ve lived in Santa Fe, every time I pass this particularly magnificent old Cottonwood standing along the west side of Canyon Road, I’ve known I must photograph it.
Situated In the front yard of an art gallery, one property north of Delgado Street, stands this enormous, incredibly majestic Cottonwood with its high, and wide, canopy spreading gloriously, with exquisite symmetry. It is most spectacular in late October as its leaves turn their golden yellow.
This year, after spending much of September and October high up on Santa Fe Mountain amongst its extensive Aspen stands capturing various stages of this fall’s color turn, one morning in late October my favorite Cottonwood at last insisted on my attention.
What’s always especially captivated my attention has been the lovely radial symmetry of its incredible canopy. This late morning its leaves were at peak color against a wonderful blue sky.
Now, you too can see what’s always always captivated my fascination about this more than 100 year old natural treasure…
2018
Now winter — the Aspen leaves all gone — the rapidly fading sunlight settles so, so briefly on the fading Aspen forest of trunks before disappearing too, into the night…
2018
With 99% of the leaves above 8,000′ elevation having fallen, only the tall, straight, thin trunks of Santa Fe Mountain’s vast aspen groves remain standing — an array of soft taupe-to-white-to-tan vertical paint strokes — occasionally punctuated by an aberrant leaf’s muted yellow accent and backed by soft, scattered evergreens.
The subtlety and depth of these enormous, deep stands of such wondrously soft colors, all in perfect order, defies imagination…
2018
Still up on top of Santa Fe Mountain, as Autumn temperatures continue dropping, the aspen leaves achieve their spectacular golden yellow peak just as their tall, slender stems take on a contrasting palette of various shades of a grey-to-taupe.
By adding further contrast with my camera strokes, I’m able to blend these elements and colors, backed by the intermingling evergreens.
2018
As the temperature drops above 8,000′ elevation in early autumn, the aspen’s leaves commence turning — initially from green to bright yellow, through various hues of gold and lastly to surprising shades of orange — while the tall, slender and graceful trunks subtly shift from white to taupe.
Just north of Santa Fe, along the western edge of the Sangre de Cristo Mountain Range among Santa Fe Mountain’s extensive aspen stands, most of the groves begin their turn dramatically at the same time. Others change at a different pace, depending on their particular exposure to sun and wind.
These out-of-sync aspen turns are invariably more muted, with the leaves’ change often blending closely with their trunks — creating quiet, blended tapestries that are contrasted against nearby evergreens.
Overlaying these quiet forest tapestries with minimal camera strokes enables me to achieve the antidote to my lifetime preoccupation to control time. It’s no accident that my landscapes convey the serenity I have always sought in my own life…
2018
Every mid-September to mid-October, as the temperature begins dropping, aspen leaves — beginning above 8,000′ elevation on many western mountains — turn from green to bright yellow, then gold, and finally to various shades of orange, while the tall, slender, graceful trunks subtly shift from white to taupe-to-cream.
Santa Fe Mountain, immediately north of Santa Fe, and on the western side of the Sangre de Cristo Mountain Range, is one of those western mountains blessed with large aspen groves.
The ten mile drive from Santa Fe’s central square up Santa Fe’s ski mountain provides nearly continuous visual access to its many aspen groves. In fact, during early fall, it has become an annual ‘right of passage’ for residents, as well as many visitors, to go up Santa Fe mountain to see and photograph the Aspen Turning.
Having been traveling a lot during fall months, I’ve missed this early fall pilgrimage for the past 5-6 years. But this year I am remaining here in Santa Fe, and I have promised myself to spend time up on Santa Fe Mountain every possible day I can.
And, in turn, to devote the next 7 blogs — through the end of the year — to my various interpretations of ASPEN TURNING…
2013
As the sun begins its climb, the wetlands gradually emerge from darkness, revealing wonderfully subtle shades against the water, whether still or rippling. Continuing to climb, the light’s angle widens against increasing color variations and emerging shadows until thousands of light geese stir with their gutteral cries, as the wetland colors and textures explode…
My first attempts at infusing the feeling of motion into my photographic images originated with my shooting moving objects – cars, trains, people walking or running. (more…)
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2007
Santa Fe sits on the windward side of the Sangre de Cristo (Blood of Christ) mountain range. This southernmost subrange of the Rocky Mountains extends from Southern Colorado to Glorieta Pass southeast of Santa Fe.
Immediately northeast of Santa Fe, Santa Fe Mountain’s (10,350’) west face is blessed with an enormous aspen stand. Lit by the evening’s last light, they glow atop the mountain for all of Santa Fe to see.
Amongst the Aspens’ beautiful taupe trunks are the occasional aberrant blood-orange boles. Standing out like sentinels, their contrast is truly magical.
2006
In the Woods
Fifteen years after Trees I, I returned to my earliest motif. Trees were no longer a subject to be mastered, I saw their nuances and spirit in a way I had not earlier in my career. In deconstructing these images, I walked a fine line between representation and abstraction, yet when I released control and allowed the trees to speak, their story informed my lens.
1992
Twenty years ago, I began my journey as an interpretive landscape photographer in my own backyard — the dramatic parks of Washington, DC. There was an unlimited variety on which to concentrate, and their close proximity allowed for easy repeat visits to my new subjects.
I experimented with color, texture and gesture in my first commitment to pure landscape. By overlaying images with an expanse of time, I was seeking my own style to portray the way I saw the world through the lens of my moving camera.
