Anyway, if you go to my gallery and enter the keyword “ManateeAvenueBridge” in the search, you’ll get all the versions of this bridge I’ve taken over the years. In another five or ten years I’ll probably have quite the collection. Then they can rename the bridge after me. It will be called the Rick Bridge, or not.
The same spot that I posted from last week. Taken only thirty minutes later but, turned out entirely different.
It’s an excellent example of how light changes everything so thoroughly. In the other photo, the main subject was the warm light of the clouds, in this one, it’s the lights from the bridge. Both reflected on the water, and each tells a different story.
I’ve taken a million photos of this bridge. Because of that, I’ve avoided it for the last year or so. I happened to be in the neighborhood and couldn’t help myself. But with a spectacle like this, could you blame me?
I stood below and captured the light reflecting off the bridge one evening. This is a long exposure image of about two minutes. The bridge is a draw bridge and the light of the signal casts the green glow onto the water. For me this is just another in a series of long exposure studies I’m doing.
There was some type of plants in the foreground water that I was trying to keep out of the image. But later I liked how it adds texture to the reflection of light, a little foreground interest in an abstract kind of way.
To take these long exposures I set the camera up on a tripod, set the time on my Apple Watch, and then click the shutter. Then it’s just a matter of waiting two or three minutes. In fact its pretty boring, I might check my e-mail, look at the news or just stand there walking in circles. Finally when its time I close the shutter, take a look, decide if I need to make any adjustments and then do it all over again. It can go on like this for twenty or thirty minutes in a single location. It really does take a bit of patience.
I’m lucky to be here, outside experiencing sites and sounds that most people don’t notice. That’s true about landscape photography in general. If you do it often you will be fortunate to experience natural beauty first hand. So, whether or not I end up with any photos I like, the experience is a good one and I come home with something gained. I think that’s pretty good.
Maybe like a lot of you, I sit at a desk all week. Monday through Friday, day-in, day-out. I restrain my movements to a few square feet while I talk or listen endlessly on meeting after meeting. The week is a progression of days leading ever so slowly to the last hurdle, Friday. On Friday morning emails are tinged flippant references to what awaits in another eight hours. Then finally, after an eternity, it comes.
This is what decompression looks like, a central mass expanding. Friday feels like this.
Friday night, Saturday and Sunday during the day are all free. Free of deadlines, free of worries, free of compression. Then, sometime Sunday afternoon or evening, the realization that it’s almost over kicks in. I watch my favorite shows, think about what I wish I’d done, go to bed.
Monday morning is all business, get the dog walked, get to work, get through e-mails before my first meeting. Settle in, focus on the task, narrow my center of mass. Five more days to go.