View Large on Black at www.thewindypixel.com!
Today is the first anniversary of tWp's inaugural post. I had the privilege of making that post last year on Monday, March 9. Our philosophy has always been: if you build the site, populate it with great images, they will come. We have expanded and will continue to expand this site with information on how to make images, process images, etc so long as there are people interested in what we do and interesting in learning from what we do.
Though the last 12 months have required much work and dedication, you have made this fun and possible.
We couldn't have done it without you: the continuation of tWp since that March Monday is due to you and your visits. Though we started at a trickle, this site has received nearly a quarter million page views since that first post; and these data don't include the hundreds of RSS subscribers who tune in every day. Combined with my flickr page, over a half million clicks have led viewers to tWp imagery (add Annie's, Mike's and Val's flickr pages and the number is larger still)! That is a truly flattering and humbling statistic - thank you a million times!! As if that weren't enough, tWp continues to grow each day - registering more than 10,000 visitors per month and growing at a rate of nearly 10% per month. Who knows what the future holds??
Okay, now you should have seen this one coming. We started things with a juicy (overdone?) HDR of Fullerton Avenue, glaciated in the depths of January with the Windy City twinkling in the background. I've returned there since, posting other images from Fullerton, North Avenue and points along the north side lakefront. I thought it time, however, to pay homage to that first post with something new, something representative of what I've learned about being behind the camera and on the computer since.
This image was captured in late February on the old sea wall at Fullerton Ave. The lake was so still when it froze that no ice had been thrown onto the wall or breakers. I could get myself and my camera all the way down to water (ice) level and perch ever so carefully on the great blocks of cement that comprise the old sea wall. Cloudy skies parted just long enough to let those beams of amber slip through and play along the great, icy scales of Lake Michigan. I love these old bits of seawall with their rotting timbers and metal bars - they give substrate for the ice to cover and, when the water is liquid, uneven surface onto which the waves can make wonderous, uneven landfall.