I’ve already posted a photo of this temple, Tanah Lot, but I found this photo hiding amongst others and I really like the wider angle on this shot than the other that I’ve already posted.
What do you think?
Oh, and this is my 900th post…whoa…that’s a lot of photos.
Actually, I was told by one of the surfers/workers on the beach that this beach, Seminyak Beach, is a great place for beginners. It is not, however, where they like to surf. They like bigger waves. They all thought that this would be a good place for me to start surfing…if only I would pay them to teach me.
Still, the waves were pretty impressive.
We spent the day at Seminyak Beach. It was a beautiful day, and we all got burnt. We’ve been living in Jakarta for the last six months and, although it’s always warm, we’ve never been in direct sunlight for much time. At the beach in Bali, we all spent so much time out in the sun and everybody in the family went to bed with a little extra redness.
I will admit that in spite of the sunburns, I loved being in the salty ocean air. The water of the Indian Ocean is so warm, far warmer than any ocean water I’ve ever been in, but the sky was blue and the air was fresh…ish. Wonderful day.
I’m sick, but beautiful sunrises always cheer me up.
What is it about black and white photos that feels so cold?
It was a very cool morning when I shot this. I was wearing a cardigan sweater and t-shirt and freezing my niblets off as I stood on the back end of the ferry to take this shot. When I was playing around with this in processing, I flipped the RAW photo to grayscale and felt that the photo suddenly matched the feeling that I had while I was on the ferry.
So, why it is that black and white photos feel cold? Anyone?
When dusk hits the Oregon Coast, at least where we were camping, the tide goes out and leave these nice little pools all over the beach. Now, some of the slower, less intelligent organisms get left behind on the beach and in the pools. Jelly fish, starfish, little shrimp, all left behind by the retreating ocean. What this process does for the photographer is leave an odd, asymmetrical pattern that reflects the light of the sunset, which is beautiful.
Cannon Beach is a beautiful spot on the Oregon Coast. It is one of the many “entrances” to the Pacific Ocean along the coast.
Its major landmarks are the rocks and the beach you see above. What you see is “Haystack Rock” and “The Needles”. Needles and a haystack – get it? If this view looks familiar to you but you’ve never been to the Oregon Coast, then you’ve seen films like The Goonies or Kindergarten Cop. Both films feature Haystack Rock.
Kindergarten Cop hobbles together a bunch of scenes that are all supposedly in Astoria, OR, but in reality are three different areas – Cannon Beach, the highway to Seaside, OR, and Astoria itself. The Goonies also purports that Cannon Beach and Astoria are situated right next to each other. Astoria and Cannon Beach, in reality are twenty-five miles apart (40 kilometers). It’s as though Hollywood producers figure that most people will never go to the coast and will never be able to tell.
Here’s another, similar view of Cannon Beach. It’s a panorama put together from four different photographs. Click on it and you ‘ll get a much wider view of the beach.
As my son walked across the sand in front of me, I wondered, “Who will he follow?” Will he follow his friends and not make his own decisions? Will he follow his parents into education? Will he put others before himself? Will he lead and not follow?
I think these are pretty universal conundrums faced by parents everywhere. I did not anticipate, before becoming a parent, that I would be that worried about how my children would turn out. But now that my daughter is ten going on fifteen and my son is seven and a perfect combination of anxiety and over-confidence, I think about these things. I think it was easier for me when I was their age because I was in the middle of it. My parents, however, must have thought the same things I am thinking about my own kids.
I guess I’ll continue to influence them as much as I can and hope for the best.
I learned something about how my photographic habits have changed since switching from film to digital. I took my Pentax K1000 with me to Oregon and snapped off a roll and a half. I took my film camera up onto the dune and down onto the beach and snapped off some lovely photos. And then there was this sad moment…
I snapped off my first photo and felt the familiar “chunk” of the camera’s mirror snapping back in place and then I pulled the camera from my eye and looked at the back of it to see how the photo turned out. On the LCD screen. That doesn’t exist on the back of the camera that was produced in 1976. Hmm…that was an unforeseen stupidity on my part. I chastised myself for having become reliant on technology to tell me that my photo was good.
I snapped another photo and once again looked at the back of the camera. Twice stupid. Yeesh…
Another photo. Another look. Oh, for crying out loud.
Over the next few days I snapped off the rest of the roll and must have looked at the back of the camera at least ten more times.
Oh. The photo above was snapped on one of the evenings on my K1000. Nice sunset, I think. And below, that’s what I kept looking at expecting to see an LCD screen. Ha.
I teach student leadership. There’s a story that I tell my students when they start to feel a little down about how much impact they’re making in our school. It goes like this: Many starfish washed up on shore. A young boy started picking them up and throwing them back into the ocean. Someone saw what he was doing and told him that it was pointless, that there were too many to save, that it wouldn’t make a difference. Throwing another starfish into the sea, the little boy responded, “It makes a difference to this one.” I’m sure you’ve read this story before, or heard it told by someone who was encouraging you that your small efforts were making a difference. There are also many more elegant versions, but the idea is the same.
While I was watching my kids on the beach in Oregon, I watched my daughter, with all of her innocence and curiosity, trying to figure out what would happen to this little starfish as the tide went out. It left itself stranded in a tide pool and Hannah wandered over to me and asked, “Should I move it?” I told her it was up to her. She did and I hope that she’ll continue to make a difference in even the smallest creatures as she grows up.
When I was little, like seven or eight years old, I would go to my Grandma’s house to be watched while my parents would go out with their friends. We would play Chinese Checkers and Snakes and Ladders and UNO. My grandma would take out a giant plate of cookies that were partially frozen – frozen because grandma would make ten or twelve dozen cookies in a mad Mennonite grandma moment and then freeze them all just in case visitors came over and then she’d have something to serve – jam jams, sour cream cookies, sugar cookies, ginger snaps, you name it she made it.
Then grandma would get all serious. She would pour a few glasses of milk for my sisters and me and we’d be eating cookies and she’d pull out this postcard sized picture. On it was a picture of the apocalypse. Cars were crashed into each other, buildings were on fire, the world was in destruction mode. The souls of the saved were floating up to the sky and the sun was shooting through the clouds in very defined rays. Every time I see rays of sunshine coming through the clouds I think of grandma’s “scare’em into heaven” postcard of the apocalypse. So, even though this is a shot of the Oregon Coast from a beautiful summer vacation, the sun’s rays bring me back to my grandma’s kitchen and her attempts to save my soul.
I’m posting this on Photo Friday for this week’s challenge: Liquid. Feel free to check out the other entries to this week’s photo challenge.
A little highlight from a recent trip to Steveston, BC.
It’s raining outside my window and even though the meteorologists are telling me on two separate morning shows that later this afternoon things are going to clear up, I’m left wishing for a nice warm feeling. To that end, I’m posting a photo of Cannon Beach from our family trip to Oregon. Now, if I just stare at all the people on the beach and the warm Oregon Coast sand, maybe I’ll warm up.
Two very excellent professional photographer acquaintances of mine (Jason and Darcy at Revival Arts) are a huge photographic inspiration to me. I am in awe of the shots they think of, let alone take. While we were on the Oregon Coast, I thought I might try emulating some shots I’ve seen on their blog (which you should totally check out – it’s over there, on the right).
What do you think? Did they work?
That’s Ben. At first I was sure this was going to be a remake of White Men Can’t Jump because Ben could not get off the ground. He managed this shot pretty well.
And this is Hannah. I set the camera on high speed continuous shooting and managed to pull out a couple of good frames. She was game to keep jumping, but I think that may have been because she was so psyched to be at the ocean.