Moon Light

My quest to photograph every 2010 full moon is off to an interesting start. The January full moon rise was only 15 minutes before sunset, and with the sky darkened by storm clouds, and the moon taking at least 40 minutes to clear the local hills, I didn't have much light to work with. With the thick clouds, I was afraid I might not see the moon at all. I could only hope that there would be a break in the clouds at the right time and place.
I was so excited to see this first glow of light.In this second photo, there is more here than just glow.

If you look very closely, you can make out
the top edge of the moon as it peeks over the hill.

I didn't realize what I had captured in this third photo until I saw it on my computer. Look closely again and you can see the shape of almost the whole sphere. I cropped this quite a bit so the moon would be bigger and easier to recognize. This was the last shot of the moon I got that night. It disappeared behind the clouds and even though I waited patiently for over an hour, it never showed itself again.

I enjoyed being out at night. When was the last time you were out at night? I mean actually outside, not just away from home after dark. It's a little strange and wonderful at the same time. As I took my attention away from the moon I could no longer see, I marveled at the colors still in the sky. If it hadn't been so muddy, I would have sat down and just looked up for awhile. When the rain started to fall, I went home.

That was on Friday night. On Saturday night, I had a plan to shoot a reflection of the moon in one of the many puddles around town. For this, I had to wait until the moon was well up in the sky. There I was, out again after dark. My plan didn't work out very well because puddle water is pretty muddy and the moon looked pretty bland. Then I thought of the pond in Community Park. I didn't get the photo I had imagined, but I like this shot with the moon reflection and the Centennial Recreation Center in the background.

And I liked wandering around outside again after dark.

After the Rain

Ahhh, finally a break from the rain. As much as I enjoy it and as much as we need it, cabin fever had set in, and so on Saturday, as soon as I saw the sun was out, I set out. I wanted to photograph, but mainly I just wanted to be outside. I had a plan, but I was open to any photo opportunity that presented itself. My first destination was a red barn I spotted several months ago. I thought the green hills, blue sky, and white clouds would be a good combination. I was right.

As I drove on, I was on the look out for puddle reflections. I headed for an orchard that I thought might be flooded. It wasn't exactly a lake, but there was a lot of standing water. I had to wait for a huge black cloud to pass overhead so I could get blue sky in the reflection, but I didn't mind waiting. It was a beautiful day and I was happy to be outside.

My next stop was Coyote Creek. I was still looking for reflections since that is the photography club's January theme. I parked along side the road and walked until I saw a spot where I could move in closer to the creek. I liked the way these leaves framed the reflection of the trees on the other bank. Since the creek is swollen from such recent rainfall, it is still quite muddy. I hiked down a bit farther and saw this pretty scene.

And then I looked down and saw this.

More rain is due in this afternoon and Monday and Tuesday.
I don't mind.

I had my day in the sun.

Pinnacles National Monument

The photography club held a shoot-out at the 26,000 acre Pinnacles National Monument, located some 60 miles south of Morgan Hill in the southern end of the Gabilan Mountain Range.

The monument was founded to protect a unique ecosystem that includes rolling chaparral, dramatic rock formations, talus caves (formed by huge, falling boulders that became wedged in narrow fractures), and a diverse mix of plants and animals.
The park has over 30 miles of hiking trails. We chose the one that would take us through the caves and up to the photographically desirable Bear Gulch Reservoir, which was only one mile away. The caves are fairly easy to negotiate if you are just carrying a flashlight (necessary), but I was also packing a camera, a bag with an extra lens, and a tripod. Trying to stay balanced while sidestepping through rocks that were only 18 inches apart, ducking under boulders with only a 3 foot clearance, and sliding down on my bum, all the while holding onto the tripod and trying to shield the camera from dents & dings, was a challenge. That short, one mile hike , which ended with 100 steps up from the last cave exit, took over an hour. As wonderful as the caves were, please imagine my relief and happiness as I cleared the last step, looked up, and saw this pretty, little reservoir.

Ranger Tammy was just waiting for some hikers to show up to hear her presentation on the park; specifically, the reservoir and how and why it was built (by the CCC to help control the amount of water that runs through the caves). We were a willing audience, quite content to sit and rest for a few minutes.After working up a sweat in the caves, the cold temperature felt refreshing, but the overcast meant no blue skies for our photographs. I reconciled this by composing pictures that included just a bit of sky or none at all. The beauty is not in the color, but in the forms and reflections.

I like this next photo because you can hardly tell
where the rocks end and the reflections begin.

We were not up to tackling the caves again,
so we took a different path back,
one that included some beautiful vistas.
Once again, I kept the gray sky to a minimum...

or out of the composition completely.I enjoyed concentrating on the smaller aspects of the scenery.
The diffused light was perfect for photographing
the colorful rocks.

The San Andreas Fault is only a stone's throw away from the park. I couldn't help but think of earthquakes as I clambered through the caves, trudged up the steps, and hiked around giant boulders.

This was a delightful photographic escapade
You can see more photos of the Pinnacles on my Flickr site:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/suebrazelton/

Happy New Year

Once in a blue moon...

A blue moon is a second full moon in the same month, or a fourth one in a season. It happens only about every two and a half years: thus the phrase, "once in a blue moon." The next one will occur in August, 2012. I couldn't scout ahead of time for a location for this one because in the days preceding the full moon, thick cloud cover obscured all light. On Thursday evening, I still wasn't sure the moon would shine through, but I returned to a location I had used previously, set up my tripod and camera, and hoped and waited. I was not disappointed. The moon was beautiful and the clouds provided some unexpected special effects.

I am more of a lunatic than ever.

My goal is to photograph every full moon for a year.

Cayucos

Cayucos is a funky little fishing village about 20 miles north of San Luis Obispo. I discovered it several years ago while on a Califorina-beach-cities-photographic-walk-about that extended down to San Diego. This time I was driving to my sister's for Christmas and instead of jamming down I-5 in 5 hours, I took the scenic route. Cayucos was my first stop.

The forecast for Monday was partly cloudy skies with little chance of rain, but by late afternoon, it was pouring. I didn't mind. I was glad to be out of the house, on the road, and near the ocean.

Overnight the skies cleared and I awoke to a beautiful, sunny Tuesday. I was glad to walk around town again, this time with a blue sky in the background.I stayed at the Shoreline Inn, which was perfect for me; right on the beach and only a block from the pier. My room was the last one on the far right of the photo. It had a sliding glass door that opened to the beach. I fell asleep listening to the waves crash.

All small beach towns have a wooden pier. It's a mandatory part of their charm. The one in Cayucos is long and straight and extends out well past the breakers.

The many signs along the pier that prohibit climbing on or jumping off the pier are routinely ignored by the surfers. Most of them run the length of the pier and they are up and over the rail before one can even raise one's camera. But this surfer was in no hurry. He calmly walked out past the breakers...

climbed over the railing...

waited for a swell to roll in under him...

and jumped.

I took many photos of the pier on Monday afternoon, but Tuesday's more favorable conditions of a morning sun and a beautiful blue sky, forced me to return and take more.

The bright blue sky also meant blue reflective water.

Morro Bay

I hated to leave Cayucos, but I had to make some progress south. My next stop was Morro Bay, just 5 miles down the road. Morro Rock is an ancient volcanic plug that dominates this small, scenic fishing village.
Although climbing the rock is prohibited, you can drive out along its base, park and walk to the breakwater, which can be seen to the left of the rock in this photo.

Huge waves were breaking over the rocks. I was on the beach and too low to see them coming, but I could hear their approach. I didn't get too close. This was taken with a telephoto lens.

The Morro Bay Estuary is home to hundreds of bird species,
including this Dock Gull

Pismo Beach

My progress south continued Tuesday afternoon. My next stop was Pismo Beach, a great little town 10 miles south of Morro Bay. For those many of you who follow my visual journey, you'll remember that in early November, I and others from the photography club visited the Monarch Butterfly Preserve in Pacific Grove. The butterflies were few and difficult to spot, and I ended the blog by saying I wanted to go back when there were more. Then I discovered that Pismo has it's own butterfly preserve and the current population numbered in the thousands. I temporarily bypassed the beach and drove straight to the preserve. This is the photo I couldn't get in PG.

The Monarchs make an incredible journey, from as far away as Canada, across the Rocky Mountain and Sierra Nevada ranges, to spend the winter in balmy Pismo Beach. This Pismo location holds the largest colony of Monarchs in the country. They huddle together in Eucalyptus and Pine trees until the temperature warms, and then they flutter about in the sun and pose for individual and small group portraits. The blue sky provided some wonderful background color.

After several hours, I left the butterflies and drove into town. The 1,200 foot pier is at the center of Pismo's beach, fishing and surfing activities. This pier is HUGE, wide with many outcroppings for viewing and fishing. Spending the night in Pismo allowed me to leisurely explore the town and photograph the sunset. Many others were on the beach with cameras in hand (on tripod) with the same goal in mind. The only difference was, they all left as soon as the sun disappeared. I stayed until there was just no light left in the sky.

The reflections were spectacular.

The next day (Wednesday) was again clear and beautiful, and I was on the beach soon after the sun was up to continue photographing the pier. There is something about piers that I find fascinating.

I liked this forest of pilings

The surfers at Pismo don't jump off the pier (It's a long drop to the water.). They walk and paddle out to the breakers. It seemed like a perfect day to ride the waves.Finally I had to tear myself away from Pismo
and continue on my way south.
Christmas and my sister were awaiting my arrival.