On the day I drove up to Tibidabo, it was raining and foggy and cloudy and, generally, a great day for photography.
Even though I had a GPS, I passed it several times; the fog was so thick you couldn’t see more than a hundred feet.
Anyway, when I got here, I walked around, literally in the clouds. Tibidabo is a popular attraction on top of a mountain, but there were only a handful of people here; I think there were more employees than visitors.
I could see some of the attractions but not altogether. It was hard to get s sense of the place, I had to piece it together in my mind. I would walk up upon each attraction and have more of the puzzle. As I walked around, I felt like a ghost.
It made for a fun excursion, but it mirrored the oddity of the park itself. It felt like being in some strange dreamlike universe where things were not as they are in the waking world.
If the weather isn’t right, it usually means there could be some interesting photos, and that’s why I went. I’m glad I did; had I gone when it was sunny, it would have been a lot of people, and I think it would have been a much more mundane experience.
Here’s a random beach scene from Lloret de Mar. Everybody seemed to be having way too much fun for a weekday.
However, people here are on some kind of vacation, so the day of the week is unimportant. I had just arrived on a redeye from the states; it was Thursday, I think. And, I was just getting warmed up to the whole vacation thing.
What better way to do that than take photos of others who are already warmed up. Eventually, I got into the rhythm of things, maybe even a little too much. By the time we left this town, I had managed to lose my passport, but that’s another story for another day.
In this case, I was in the town of Sitges, walking around on a Sunday. I was next to the main church that sits along the sea. Sunday notwithstanding, nobody was going in or out, just tourists, like me, walking around it, taking pictures, and practicing leisure.
The colors are here in the Northeast, so a few days ago, I drove to this random park called Cunningham Falls; it turns out it’s not so random.
I don’t know the area, so; I picked a random place to visit on Google Maps. Little did I know this is a popular spot because there were a lot of other photographers that showed up as well. I took all kinds of shots from different angles, including this, which is a twelve-shot panorama.
These boats are in Collioure in Southern France. It’s a Catalonian village known for sardines, among other things.
After I took the photo, I saw a couple of street artists selling paintings of these same boats. They seem almost picture-perfect, almost as though they were placed here for effect. But that could just be my jaded view of things, and it’s not something the French are prone to do.
One of the primary industries here is sardines. The last time we came through, I ordered a plate of them at a seaside cafe. For all I know, these may be sardine boats that returned in the morning. The rest of the day, they are click-bait for photographers like me. That was a lame joke.
I love trail shots for the sense it creates of going somewhere and, a natural desire to know what’s just around the corner. This trail, in particular, is especially good for that; it has hundreds of turnouts that open on amazing views of the pacific.
If I lived in a pasture, I’d spend most of the summer sitting under the shade of an oak, and that’s no bull.
I took this on a drive through the country here in Florida. Contrary to popular belief, most of the state is agriculture. All you have to do is drive from one coast to the other to see what I mean. The drive takes about two hours and passes through a lot of cattle country. It’s no wonder rodeos are big here.
This photo is just below Rainbow Falls in North Carolina. It’s on a trail with a waterfall payoff at the end.
I think the word rainbow sums up those fall colors. North Carolina is famous for its autumn tones, which, as I write this, is still a couple of months away. It was nice to hike in the mountains and get a break from the humidity back home.
This is another old photo I pulled from the archives. Old images are veritable breadcrumbs leading back to forgotten details. For instance, from the picture, I recall the hike took longer than expected and, was a little more strenuous. So when we got back to the hotel, we ate pasta and dinner rolls, leaving only, …you guessed it, breadcrumbs.
Mulholland road in Parrish, oddly enough, dead-ends at a bridge. Because of that, it feels remote, even though it’s in the middle of a housing boom.
Living in suburbia as I do, the trick to doing local landscape photography is finding gems tucked away in plain sight. Even though I think I’ve found most, I’m pretty sure there are more. They are, by their very nature, not easy to find.
I took this photo about five years ago, and today, as I drove by, the road is under construction. That means it’s probably going to get more traffic and, extend past the bridge; meaning no longer hidden. But I’ll keep searching for more spots like this in the suburban jungle.
I took this about five years ago on one of my visits back to where I grew up. But as they say, home is where the heart is.
Never in a million years would I have imagined I’d end up in Florida. But here I am, and the longer I’m out here, the more I need to go back to the Pacific for little trips to recharge. Maybe I miss the mountains and evergreens which we don’t have in the sunshine state.