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Canon FD glass mounted to Sony A7II via Metabones adapter.
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This image is in my eBook, The Photographer's Guide to Chicago, but I just realized that I've never posted in online anywhere. Well, here it is. www.amazon.com/dp/B00F08993Q
My imagination has saved my life many times. Instead of giving in to whatever is going on around me – things that may not be positive, sunny, sane or good for the mind, body and soul – my mind has always been able to wander off, sail off or fly off – and find other places to be, even when I couldn’t physically be there. Places where it was positive, and sunny and good. ~ View On Black
If the body can't leave, then just being elsewhere in spirit is enough. Sometimes it has to be.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=pc7NlsbWBeA ~ “Azure Skies”, Darshan Ambient
The land, shore, water and sky of Lake Michigan are one such place to visit when one needs to be emotionally, mentally or spiritually away – camera in hand or not.
Strong northeast winds of winter blow huge waves of frigid Lake Michigan water onto our man-made rock shoreline from December through February. Ice formations, up to six-feet deep and up to a mile in length, form along our 25+ miles of breakwalls. And no effort is made to get rid of them. “Nature puts them up, nature will take them down,” it is said. Allow each season to be its own season: I like that kind of thought.
I like wind and storm and wave. So I go out here, to be somewhere else in my being. There is some danger to be sure – it is isolated and if you take a slip and a fall, you are on your own (I tell fellow travelers to wear bright colors; it makes finding the body easier :-) ). But, it is not so risky as to make the hazards outweigh the reward of seeing, hearing, feeling and smelling what such locations have to offer the senses and the spirit.
I call these ice formations, "Chicago’s Glaciers." They look like glaciers in my imagination; in shape, size, color, and the way they snake around the existing environment. In Zen, the ability to see everything, and anything, in fresh and wonderful ways is called “a child’s mind.”
Children see endless possibilities, where adults see only a few, or one, or none. It takes time and work and practice and desire to retrieve one's "Child's Mind," but it is worth the effort.
Anyway, Chicago’s Glaciers pile up over the course of the winter, gaining depth with each new storm and freeze. Then with the coming of spring, their “fields of icy snowpack begin a slow retreat back up the fjord." The debris they leave behind as well as the alternately coarse and subtle changes to the landscape cut by their ice, becomes evident and evidence; available for curious minds to discover, analyze and savor.
Above, a red-tailed hawk circles low to the land, slipping the surface on currents of air, banking in on another pass, looking for any unfortunately exposed, early-season rodents on the scurry (there is as yet, no ground cover in which to hide). Both predator and prey are hoping to find bits and pieces to eat after winter's cupboards have long fallen bare.
Low rise clouds, thickening and gathering moisture on southerly winds, roil low and fast overhead, a gaping yawn of churning mist and water vapor that extends to the horizon. These clouds portend spring’s rain, not winter’s snow.
The retreating ice reveals a mouse or two, perhaps a pigeon or a gull – the unlucky ones or the old; mushed and crushed, skin leathery and slightly mummified, after months sealed under the weight of snow and ice. However, these are not a fresh kills – thus they are only fit to eat were a predator starving. The Hawk ignores them.
Each little world, such as the ones at your feet, not always the one over the horizon, is our own little National Geographic mini-series documentary special on "The Wonder of Nature" in our everyday lives.
At least, I like to imagine it so.
Textures courtesy skeletalmess: www.flickr.com/photos/skeletalmess/sets/72157622988869605/
And flypaper textures: flypapertextures.blogspot.com/
:copyright: Copyright 2018, All rights reserved. Do not copy or otherwise reuse my photos.
This view from the Lake Shore Drive Bridge of the Chicago River shot with Nikon D7100. Adobe Lightroom for adjustment.
The ceiling of the former reading room of the Chicago Public Library, now the centerpiece of the Chicago Cultural Center. This magnificent translucent dome, 38 feet in diameter, is made of Tiffany Favrile glass.
The La Salle Street Bridge (or Marshall Suloway Bridge) is a single-deck double-leaf trunnion bascule bridge spanning the main stem of the Chicago River in Chicago, Illinois, that connects the Near North Side with the Loop area. It was constructed in 1928 at a cost of $2,500,000 by the Strobel Steel Constructing Company.
The bridge was part of a scheme to widen LaSalle Street and improve access from the Loop to the north side of the river that had been proposed as early as 1902. The design of the bridge, along with those for new bridges at Madison, Franklin, and Clark streets, was approved in 1916.
This image is the sixty-third published (10/04/2013) by PhotoVogue Italia.
Navy Pier very early in the morning
Was in Chicago from 5 a.m. through late in the evening, so I have a lot of catching up to do.
Please press L
2015, Architecture, Camera, Chicago, Illinois, July, Michigan, Months, Nikon D5000, Photography, Places, United States, Windy City, Years, america, fine art, fine art prints, lake michigan, landscape photography, laurasb, michigan landscape photographer, michigan nature photographer, michigan travel photography, nature, nature photography, print4x4, seasons photography, skyline, tjcl15, united states of america, usa, virtual copy</br></br>Copyright Seasons Photography 2015
Just back from being away for a week for grandchildren events and a few days between exploring some new areas for us. I'm way behind in viewing your photos but will try to get caught up. This was taken from the Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore looking west on a very clear day.