April (Almost) Full Moon

My project to photograph every full moon for a year was almost thwarted by the weather. The full moon was slated for Wednesday so I wanted to photograph it on Tuesday evening when it would rise just about the same time that the sun would be setting: perfect light. The problem was the forecast called for rain from Monday through Wednesday. If I wanted to shoot the moon, my only option was go out on Sunday, even though the moon would be pale in the afternoon sky, and it would not be 100% full. Sometimes you just have to take what you can get.

While I was waiting for the moon, I took this panorama (4 photos merged together) of Anderson Reservoir. Click on the photo it see it enlarged.

I may try this spot again in May if the weather cooperates.

Plan B

Sunday was a clear, warm, spring day, and I could hear Point Lobos calling. I photographed there last August on a club shoot-out, and thought it would be even prettier in the spring. I left early to beat the crowds that would surely show up on such a fine day. Boy was I in for a surprise. Just two miles north of the park entrance Highway 1 was closed for the Big Sur Marathon.

I wasn't going to waste a beautiful day at the coast, so I immediately created Plan B and headed for Pacific Grove. I have been visiting Pacific Grove every spring for the past 4 years, but usually in the afternoon. This is the first time I had been there in the morning, which made for better light when photographing the rocks and surf off Asilomar.

There is a stretch of coastline just north of Lover's Point that is covered in blooming ice plant. This is why I return every spring. I can't get enough of the incredible color combinations.

One last look as I drive away. I was a little early in the season on this trip. The full bloom won't happen for another week or so. I guess I'll have go back... again.

On the drive home, I spied these flowers along a highway in Salinas.
I had to stop.

I didn't make it to my original destination,
but Plan B turned out to be a successful alternative.

The Ascent of Fremont Peak

Like yesterday, it was another Spring Break day that had to be spent outdoors. Early in the week I had allowed work on my computer to occupy too much of my time. Now work was done and it was time to play. My friend Noella and I decided to explore Fremont Peak, a state park near San Juan Bautista. Neither of us had been there before, but I had heard that the views from atop the 3,169 peak were outstanding. My State Park Guide Book described a one mile trail to the top (that started after an 11 mile drive up) that seemed easy enough. We had no idea what we were getting ourselves into.In the beginning, the well marked trail was a gentle slope up, lined with wildflowers and commanding views of the valley.

Gradually the hillside became steeper,
the trail more narrow and rockier...

and the views more incredible.
(Click on this photo to see its full size.)

Just past this spot I stopped, sat down, leaned back against a rock, and just enjoyed the view. I was privileged to see three hawks soaring overhead, and a hummingbird hovered inches from my face. I had on a red sweatshirt and I think he flew away disappointed that I was not the mother lode of nectar. We continued on around the peak. The trail leveled off in a few places, but for the most part, we were now climbing, climbing, climbing. I was happy to stop again for a few moments to catch Noella's approach. Behind her, the darker blue at the horizon is the Pacific Ocean (Monterey Bay).

The climb was getting steeper, but the top seemed so deceptively near that we continued to push on. Click on this photo and you will see a flag pole, our ultimate destination.

I was ahead of Noella
and when I saw this sign (click the photo to read it),
I almost turned back.

Then I figured it didn't apply. I was going up, not down, so I sat and waited. (Noella is not a slower hiker. She stopped more often to photograph.) In this photo she is on a secondary rock shooting east toward Hollister.

From this point on there was no more trail, only rock.
We pushed and pulled and crawled our way up...

stopping often to rest and photograph.

It took awhile, and the final ascent wasn't pretty, but we made it to the top and we felt quite good about it. The views were as advertised... spectacular. (Click this photo to see a larger view. It is 4 photos merged into a panorama.)

I was on a natural high for the rest of the day.

Coyote Lake

I spent Thursday afternoon at Coyote Lake. This gem of a park is just a 20 minute drive away. Last time I was there the water level was very low, so I I returned to see how different it might be with more water and with wildflowers in bloom. I was not disappointed.

This is a bit of self indulgence: a shadow self-portrait.
That's my head.

This beautiful little meadow was covered in tiny wildflowers.

One road parallels the west side of the lake and ends at the dam, pictured below. This view is looking back south toward the lake.

This one is looking north through the canyon. I had to lie on my stomach to include the little flowers in the composition. In a few months these hills will all be brown.

Tomorrow, my goal is to visit Fremont Peak State Park.
Stay tuned.

Big Basin Redwoods

The photography club held a shoot-out at
Big Basin Redwood Park.

The trees in this park are not the Giant Sequoias I visited last June, (see "Coastal Excursion blog"), but they have their own special charm, namely form and texture.

With most hikes through a redwood forest, the compelling view is up, but in this park the scenery at ground level was much more intriguing. Many of the trees had texture that was far more compelling than their height.

Some can only be described as "gnarly."

Of course, I did look up once in awhile. For this shot, I stepped over the fence, leaned into the tree, and shot straight up.

And for this one, I took three shots and
stitched them together into a vertical panorama.
Notice how the tree twists as it stretches up.

These were my intrepid trekking companions.You can see more of my photos from this shoot-out
(and those of others) on the club's Flickr Shoot-out site:
http://www.flickr.com/groups/mhphotoclubshoot-outs/

March Full Moon & Reflections

A little late getting posted, but worth the wait.

I usually go out two days before the full moon to scout for a location and then photograph it the next evening when moon rise is one hour before sunset. But this month my scouting photos, which I usually take just to view possible compositions, turned out quite lovely. Conditions were perfect. The moon was bright and the sky was blue and clear. I chose a spot along the edge of Chesbro Reservoir, which is so wonderfully full this year and is surrounded by hills that are stunningly green. (I know I'm gushing, but just look at these photos.)

I was hoping to get the moon's reflection in the water, but from my initial location, I could see that wasn't going to happen. I had scouted another spot earlier in the week, but rejected it because I would have to wait for the moon to rise over a hill and I thought it would be too high in the sky by the time it appeared. (I like to catch the moon as low to the horizon as possible when it is HUGE.) I took a chance and drove to a rise where a biker bar was once in business. All that is left is the foundation, a decomposing picnic table, and a horse shoe pit over grown with weeds. (I always wondered what went on up there, but was too intimidated to drive up and find out.) The views of the reservoir are marvelous.

On this evening, there was not even a wisp of a breeze. The sun was low but had not yet set and the water was mirror still. While waiting for the moon to show, I tramped down to the shore, crossing over some barbed wire, and captured these reflections.

I picked up a rock, threw it in, and shot the ripple effect.

I was having so much fun traipsing around the rubble of the bike bar, that I almost missed the moon. As I suspected, by the time it crested the hill, it was small, but to my great delight, I saw its reflection in the water.

Mission accomplished
I love it when a plan comes together.