Here’s a shot from Crescent Beach, which is just north of Cannon Beach and mostly inaccessible. It was a hike but well worth it.
I saw folks on the trail that looked like they shouldn’t be there, I had boots, and they had flipflops. Some people looked like they couldn’t make the steep inclines, it made me wonder if rangers rescued hikers here. Nevertheless, I made it despite hesitations of my own and arrived at this rugged, isolated beach.
I placed my tripod low and took this as the water receded. I used an ultrawide 12mm lens from Venus Optics. It mostly stays in the bag, but times like this I’m glad I have it because of the perspective it affords.
In my imagination, this is a place where you might find the fae folk. The stream is part of a river in a state park, but I had the idea little invisible beings were all around.
The image is from the Hillsborough River State Park in Florida. Maybe it was my mood or the setting, but parts of it seemed nothing short of enchanting. There are places inside forests like this that have an ephemeral quality of nature about them.
I experienced the same thing in the forests of Oregan a couple of weeks ago. Some sections of the trail had a subtle quality that you could easily miss. I have no idea if nature spirits exist; I’ve never seen one. At the very least, encountering these areas in the wilderness gives me pause and stokes my imagination.
Driving up Highway 126 along the McKinzie River, the temptation is to pull off at every little bridge or vista. On one near Fin Rock, I found this lonely lane.
I’ve heard so much about the forests in the Pacific Northwest, and seeing them for myself was worth the trip. An old utility road through the forest is an invitation to explore. It was blocked off, so maybe it’s better I didn’t drive it in my little rental car.
I imagine that, like the Mangroves of the tropics, these conifers constitute a significant source of CO2 sequestration for our planet. Not only that, the forests are the habitat for mycelium which we are just now discovering can lead to cures for pollution and disease. (Check out this website for more on that!) Let’s hope these forests remain protected as vigorously as our Florida mangroves.
Cannon Beach reminds me of Carmel by the Sea; only it’s about eight hundred miles to the north. A little more unconventional, perhaps, but that’s a good thing.
Actually, this is a view of Crescent Beach with Cannon Beach in the distance; but the whole area is known as Cannon Beach. I drove here to Ecola State Park from Portland in the morning, and getting an early start was vital. After I returned from a hike, the roads and parking lots were full of holiday travelers. The July temperature is in the upper seventies.
There used to be a direct path to Crescent beach from here, but it got washed out in a storm. The alternate trail is about a mile and a half and is rather arduous. Even so, it was worth it, and because it was harder to reach, there were very few people. So I walked the whole beach, took plenty of photos, and skipped the crowds.
The Oregon Coast Highway is probably better done in an RV so you could stop and take it in for long stretches before moving on; I was in a Ford Fiesta. I took plenty of stops but not nearly enough. Sometimes my wanderings would pay off with something interesting to see, other times not so much. But as they say, it’s not the destination but the journey.
Due to the full range of light and the difficulty of shooting into the sun, this is a combination of at least five photos. I combined the images with AuroraHDR and then parts of it re-layered in Photoshop. In some respects, this is a painting, in that the light was blended to create a picture. That creative process I find satisfying, even if it is the same scene on a different day.
Scott Lake was a detour of a detour I took while driving through Willamette National Forest. I took so many detours its surprising I made any forward progress at all.
I figured as long as I had gas and some trail mix I was probably not going to have problems. The only real dilemma was deciding when to turn back. If I didn’t need sleep, I’d have driven all night, and that would have been just fine.
I could see setting up camp here and exploring for a few days. As its the pacific northwest, I’d half expect to see a bigfoot. This area is so big and untamed that it would not surprise me in the least. At least this is where I would be if I were a bigfoot.
While driving along the Oregon coast, I stopped here in Cape Cove. The area is so pretty it’s hard to take a bad picture.
The coastline has these massive rocks that are the remnants of an eroding mainland. I can imagine that ten-thousand years ago the land extended well beyond where it ends today. These are up and down the Pacific coast, and they make for good studies in geology and, in my case, photography.
I created this effect using an ND filter, which allows for a long exposure, even during daylight; this is a 20-second exposure. With that, the water appears smooth like glass. Also, the aperture is set to f22, which allows both the foreground and background rocks to be in focus, and it creates the star effect of the sun. Also, shooting right into the sun like this created lens flare, which in this case, I quite like.
A few days ago, I walked through a forest in Oregon’s Ecola State Park. It was a nice break from the regular everyday routine.
It was my first time visiting Oregon, so I toured both the mountains and coast to get a sense of things. There was no real plan other than drive, observe, and take photos. I’d see something intriguing, and follow it until I had to turn around.
In this case, I was near Cannon Beach, which is a famous resort town. This particular trail leads to the isolated Crescent Beach, which bears no resemblance to the beaches in Florida. It was a good change of pace.
Imagine living in a town called Sisters; how cool would that be? The name comes from its proximity to the Three Sisters volcanic peaks in Oregon.
The good news is that Middle and North Sisters are dormant. The maybe-lousy news is the South Sister is showing signs. I took a detour to see the fifteen-hundred-year-old lava flow and, as lava flows go, it’s a big one. Here is a shot I took of the lava flow, but it doesn’t do justice. It’s about five miles wide.
Anyway, I was just glad to be here and out of the Florida summer heat for a few days. Oregon in summer is a mild climate, not too hot, not too cold. Goldilocks would approve. After visiting the lava flow, I ended up in this mountain town. If South Sister ever decides to come back to life, this place will have front-row seats.