Yet another place I’ve been to several times, mostly without a camera.  My last trip to the 1270 foot mountain was in 2008 when a friend at work was kind enough to lend me her Nikon D80 over the Independence Day weekend.  Before the evening’s fireworks, I went for a drive to the top to take some experimental pictures.  I configured the camera for black and white and tried taking pictures in the style of Ansel Adams.  The results were less than satisfactory.  There’s a reason Mr. Adams was the genius he was.

Today, I decided to go back to Mount Erie.  On the way to the mountain, I stopped at the Lake Erie Grocery store to take a couple pictures.  I love the location of this old store and it’s position at the base of the mountain.  It just stands out against the blue sky and the surrounding evergreens.

It’s a short drive from the store to the entrance of Mount Erie park.  The single lane road up the mountain is narrow and winding; there’s barely enough room for two vehicles to pass on another.  Luckily on my way up, I didn’t encounter any cars coming back down.

About three quarters of the way up, there’s a pullout near a set of stairs that lead to a lookout area.  The lookout — on the west side of the mountain — is probably 1000 to 1100 feet above sea level, and you can see for miles.  The vista affords you fantastic views of the San Juan Islands, parts of Anacortes, Burrows Bay and Burrows Island, as well as parts of the Strait of Juan de Fuca.  I took several sweeping shots for a stitched panorama, then headed to the peak.

I locked my truck and started towards the east lookout area.  There were several people there, and while it’s a nice view, there’s not much to see except Highway 20 and the oil refineries.  I decided to head over to the south lookout.  Climbing on the big, and I mean BIG rocks atop Erie, was a Mantardass: half man, half jackass, half retard.  He appeared to be a grown-ass man, but he was on top of one big rock demanding his mother’s attention.  “Mom… Hey Mom!  Look Mom, I’m on the highest point of the mountain.” He then bounced over to another rock and declared he was now on the highest point.  Looking around, I could tell he was not standing on the highest point of Mount Erie.  I found his Mantardass behavior highly irritating, I don’t know why.

I went off into the trees to find things that most people wouldn’t photograph in such a touristy location.  When I decided to head over to the railing at the south lookout, ol’ Tour Guide Frisby and his Mantardass parents were there, along with a gaggle of women that were talking about everything but the view at their backs.  I went into a holding pattern and took a seat on a rocky outcrop, taking several pictures high above Lake Campbell.  When I finally made my over to the railing, I again took more sweeping shots for a nice panorama, as well as the nice shot you see on the left.

I then drove back down the road that twists and turns more than my intestines, and went to Heart Lake.  While the lake is usually not crowded, today was a gorgeous day, and there were many people there with the RVs, lawn chairs, and fishing poles.  I decided to come back another day — maybe during the golden hour — and headed home.

Flickr sets of the day:

Mount Erie: http://www.flickr.com/photos/wafwot/sets/72157624338084066/
Mount Erie southern view pano: http://www.flickr.com/photos/wafwot/4728217132/
Mount Erie western view pano: http://www.flickr.com/photos/wafwot/4728212032/

Sore and tired from my “hike” in Deception Pass, I decided a photographer in motion tends to stay in motion and went south to Fort Casey State Park.  There are several reasons why I love Whidbey Island: temperate seasons, beautiful scenery, and several State Parks and a huge National Historical Reserve.  Fort Casey, named in honor of Brigadier General Thomas Lincoln Casey, was built in the 1890s.  Along with Fort Flagler on Marrowstone Island and Fort Worden at Point Wilson, the three forts formed the “Triangle of Death” to protect Admiralty Inlet and Puget Sound from a naval invasion.  Almost immediately after construction was completed, the forts were obsoleted by better battleships and airplanes.  Fort Casey was mothballed in 1935, but reactivated at the start of World War II (when the guns were scrapped for the war effort) until it was placed in caretaker status in 1950 then acquired by Washington State in 1955.

As with most of the places I’ve been photographing lately, I’ve visited them many years ago when I first moved to the area in 1990.  I’m sure it happens to most people; they lose the appreciation of their surroundings due to constant exposure.  It’s happened to me.  Only through the viewfinder of my D90 have I been able to become reacquainted with the beauty of Whidbey Island and its surroundings.  I’ve been to Admiralty Head Lighthouse a couple times this past year, and to get to the light, I have to drive past the barracks and gun batteries of Fort Casey.  The lighthouse is literally in the Fort Casey State Park.

So, today, I decided to explore the guns of Casey.  My first stop was to the lighthouse.  Inside, there’s a small interpretive museum of old photographs, a plan-relief of the Fort, and several other lighthouse items, including two Fresnel lens (both of which were never used at Admiralty Head, oddly enough). In the Lighthouse, I took several pictures of old photographs.

No, I’m not a plagiarist.  I’m a member of a Flickr group called “Looking into the Past.”  The object is some part of a modern day scene is overlapped by an old photograph of the same scene.  You can either hold up an old photograph and align the old scene with the current scene, or use a photo manipulation program like Photoshop to superimpose the old scene into the modern scene.  The photo left is an example of what I did with one of these old photos I “copied.”  I photographed a picture from 1902 of the Lighthouse under construction, then took my own picture of the Lighthouse at the same angle.  Using Photoshop, I positioned the old photo over top of the new photo and culled out what I didn’t want.  The result is two photographs captured 108 years apart, creating a Look into the Past.  I did the same thing for a photo of a 10-inch gun and the main battery line.  You can see these and other photo-montages of old photos I’ve created by exploring the link at the end of this blog post.

The rest of the photos I shot at Casey were of the historic emplacement.  It’s amazing to think that at the time this fort was built, there wasn’t electricity, or wireless communications.  Everything was done with manpower, counterweights, and acoustics.  The steps have narrow treads and tall risers with no hand rails.  The only way to go above the second level to photograph the muzzle of the guns is to climb ladders or walk all the way around the end of the main line and climb the hill.  Back in the 1890s, there was no such thing as OSHA.  During my visit, I walked around and took pictures of the two guns, the carriages of each, the empty gun emplacements, and various elements of the batteries.  For the most part, my trip to Fort Casey was an excuse to get out of the house.  I got a few good pictures out of the excursion, which you can view by clicking the link below.

Flickr sets from the day:

Admiralty Head Light House: http://www.flickr.com/photos/wafwot/sets/72157623319834985/
Fort Casey State Park: http://www.flickr.com/photos/wafwot/sets/72157624307460842/
Looking into the Past: http://www.flickr.com/photos/wafwot/sets/72157624200255000/

Job hunting in the King Hussein economy ain’t easy, bitches; there’s only so many jobs out there.  After applying and sending and waiting (oh my!) there’s a lot of time spent with my thumb firmly lodged in my nether region watching Fox News, ESPN, or reruns of Bewitched and Bones.  Sometimes I just have to force myself to go do something, and today it was a trip to Deception Pass State Park.  I read an article in the paper about a gentleman from the Civilian Conservation Corps who helped build an stone overpass in Deception Pass during the 1930s.  Anyone who’s even frequented Whidbey Island knows that the only “overpasses” on this rock are Deception Pass Bridge and small State-built concrete bridges over culverts.

On Whidbey, there’s no such thing as a bridge that people can walk under, so I had to go find this overpass.  I grabbed my camera bag and made the 10 mile trip to the State Park.  It was a nice sunny spring day and the parking lot at Little North Beach was fairly busy.  I found a parking space and went about preparing my camera: format the memory card, reset various settings, etc., then made my way to the start of the trail.  It’s an easy — easy for people without asthma — 0.2 mile trail that goes from about 60 feet rising to about 150 feet above sea level.  I’ve been up this trail before and I don’t remember it going all the way to the bridge.  I seem to recall there was a stone “cul-de-sac” with a nice view of the bridge, but I guess the Park changed it.

There was lots of nice nature to photograph, and I struggled to get enough light into my slow-ish 18-105mm lens.  The tree canopy of old growth at Deception Pass State Park blocks a lot of the sunlight, but the sunbeams that do make it to the floor make for spectacular opportunites, as the glowing leaves in the image to the left demonstrate.

I made my way up the 1500 foot trail, taking pictures along the way.  I was purposely moving slowly to look all around me as well as minimize any chance of an asthma attack.  Once I was under Deception Pass Bridge, I found some graffiti that fulfilled an assignment for a Flickr group.  I also took some shots of the girders and perspective shots, then made my way back down the trail.

Driving away from Little North Beach, there was a small parking area for a couple of small picnic areas.  There was also a gate to prevent vehicular traffic on a grassy trail that lead off into the woods.  I parked my truck, grabbed my camera, and walked around the rusty painted gate.  Around a curve in the trail and a couple hundred feet from the gate, the sun lit up the stone overpass I originally came to see.  Considering it was built in the 1930s, it looked remarkably good for it’s age.  I’m sure the overpass has probably seen maintenance and repairs in its 70+ year history since it carries hundred of thousands of cars and trucks on Highway 20 each year.  I took several shots around the overpass, then headed back to my truck.

Before heading home, I stopped at a public beach along the Strait of Juan de Fuca.  I stopped because there were incoming P-3 Orion planes landing at NAS Whidbey Island, and I thought I could get some nice shots of the planes.  The plane shots didn’t turn out so great.  Either the plane was in focus and the ground was not (thanks to panning at low shutter speeds) or both were out of focus.  Next time, I’ll spend more time resetting the camera for the shot instead of it being an afterthought.

Flickr sets from the day:

Deception Pass State Park Trails: http://www.flickr.com/photos/wafwot/sets/72157624168956995

About three years ago, I was diagnosed with asthma. This was after five or so years of battling several bouts of pneumonia and shortness of breath. A little more than a year ago, a failed cholesterol test at a company wellness program led to a diagnosis of secondary polycythemia caused by asthma induced hypoxia. In the course of finding the cause of polycythemia, I saw an allergist who tested me for all kinds of shit. His tests showed I have allergies to dust mites, grasses, and bird feathers. What the hell does this have to do with photography? Well, keep reading and I’ll tell you.

Since asthma and allergies keep me from mowing the lawn, those duties fall to someone I have to pay.  Hey, not only am I lazy, but it’s now a matter of life and death. For the past two summers a kid in town mowed the lawn. He was saving for his first car and insurance, but I guess he’s driving now and doesn’t have time for menial jobs like lawn care.  Despite Craigslist ads, Tina and I haven’t been able to find anyone who would mow our small yard for less than $60. For $60, our yard better make the cover of Turf Magazine. I’m just sayin’. Well, long story longer, I guess the neighbors are tired of seeing the overgrown grass, because one of them stopped by and offered to mow the lawn for $30.  I made a quick trip to the ATM for some cash, but when I came back, the neighbor had started mowing.  I could already tell the freshly cut grass was affecting my breathing.  Closing the windows and a couple of hits from my albuterol inhaler helped, but I knew I needed to get out of the house. I love the smell of a freshly cut lawn, but I didn’t want to have an asthma attack.

I grabbed my camera and hightailed it out of the house. It was 7pm, and I knew sunset was about 8:30pm, so the golden hour was just a few minutes away. I made my way down to Sherman Road and took a few shots overlooking Ebey’s Prairie.  What better place is there for getting fresh air than the historic farmland of Ebey’s Landing?  The Prairie is spectacular in the waining hours of the day, and I was able to get a nice distant capture of the Ferry House lit up by the setting sun. I decided to head over to the old Inn for a few more closer shots, but by the time I got there, another photographer was setting up his tripod. Great minds think alike I guess.

I didn’t want to bother his creativity, so I took Ebey’s Landing Road to Hill Road, then turned right on Engle Road and headed to Fort Casey instead.  There’s no services out by Keystone and Fort Casey, and my truck had picked up the pace of its urgent bitching about being low on fuel.  It started when I went to Burlington on May 4, however, I gambled I’d be okay, since it’s only about four miles to the nearest gas station in Coupeville.

Again I found myself at Admiralty Head Lighthouse.  It was awash in late day sunlight, and looked fantastic.  I walked around, taking several pictures.  While waiting for the sun to set a little further, I started playing around with AEB, automatic exposure bracketing.  I configured my D90 to take one capture at the manual settings I chose based on the light meter.  The next two shots would be bracketed; one a half stop under exposed, another a half stop over exposed.  As of yet, I’m not sure I like that.  I come from a film background, and was taught to check the light twice, exposure once.  However, I have a tendency to be impatient which leads to mistakes.  I figured the experiment was worth the extra shutter click count.  Besides, there’s always HDR.  Anyway, back to the Lighthouse.  Once the sun was at a point in the sky where I could position the tower between the sun and my camera, I took several shots.  The effect was pretty cool.

Believe it or not, the lighthouse started getting a lot of visitors.  When I pulled up, no other cars were nearby.  By the time I left, there was about 6 cars and several people acting like they had too much beer at earlier picnics.  I backed up to leave as my truck once again informed me its impending fuel situation.

Leaving the Country Store in Coupeville with $20 (6.33 gallons) worth of freshly pumped unleaded, I crossed Highway 20 and went to Front Street again.  I grabbed my tripod and and took a few shots of the sunset over Penn Cove.  I had to laugh when I saw a guy quickly trot out onto the wharf to take a few shots with his DSLR as well.  What I found funny was I watched him take his shots with the pop-up flash activated.  I guess he got what he wanted because he quickly left, but I couldn’t help but wonder what he thought the flash would help.  He’s 15, maybe 20 feet off the water, shooting into the blue-orange sky of a sunset.  The nearest land is a mile and a half away.  That must be some helluva fill flash!

Anyway, I moved the tripod a couple yards from the wharf to take some shots of the building at the end of the wharf illuminated by overhead lights.  There was still too much daylight, so I waited.  I took a few shots of the surrounding area, and one of the sunset reflected off a window of the old Gillespie Meat Market building.  I also took a few shots for a panorama.  When the light was finally just right, I took a few shots of the wharf.  I also took a few long exposures of Front Street before taking the camera off the tripod and heading home.  I lost track of time, because it was 9:20pm when I left Coupeville and Tina was holding dinner…

Flickr sets from the day:

Ebey’s Prairie: http://www.flickr.com/photos/wafwot/sets/72157624021868568/
Admiralty Head Lighthouse:  http://www.flickr.com/photos/wafwot/sets/72157623319834985/
Coupeville Wharf: http://www.flickr.com/photos/wafwot/sets/72157623334088419/
Front Street at Night: http://www.flickr.com/photos/wafwot/sets/72157623980646110/

On Tuesday, May 4, I had a job interview in the town of Burlington. The weekend prior, I studied the company a bit. Tina helped, too, by finding others on the Internet that have interviewed with the company. Of course, heading to Skagit County, I didn’t want to waste an opportunity to make a few captures, so I took my camera.

I think I did okay on the interview, so I have my fingers crossed. On the way home, I decided to check out the Loop Road at Washington Park in Anacortes. I’ve never been to Washington Park before, but I scouted the place out on Google Maps a couple weeks prior.

Once I got to Anacortes, I stopped in the McDonald’s parking lot, hoping to take advantage of some free wifi. I wanted to let Tina know I had my interview and was heading to Washington Park to go shoot. I didn’t want a repeat of the last time I went shooting after an appointment. Alas, I couldn’t find an open wifi connection my netbook liked, so I gave up.

I resisted the urge to buy lunch at McDonald’s and continued on my way. I turned left onto 12th Street from Commercial Avenue. After about a mile, 12th turns into Oakes Avenue, but you’ll never know it unless you live in Anacortes, or keep an eye on street signs. Another couple miles later, there’s a fork in the road. Continuing right takes you to the Ferry terminal, but keep going straight (left?) and you’ll be on Sunset Avenue, where it’s less than a mile to the entrance of the park. Trust me, it’s a lot easier to get to than it sounds by my shitty description.

Once in the Park, follow the signs for the Loop Road. It’s a narrowly-paved, barely-enough-room-for-my-truck, one-way path that yearns to be an actual road.  It twists its way 2.2 miles through the thick wooded Park, and is definitely worth the trip.  The Loop Road is open to pedestrians from 6am (or first light, whichever is first) to 10pm (or dusk, whichever is earlier). Motorized vehicles are permitted on the Loop Road after 10am, so you have to go slow and watch for hikers. There’s also camping facilities and a boat launch, but I wasn’t concerned with those amenities.

Just a little ways in, I came to the first place I could pull off the road to take a few shots, There’s great views of Rosario Strait, and you can even see Cypress Island in the distance. A fantastic tree juts out over the beach. It probably fell years ago, but looks like it continues to grow. Back in my truck and a bit further in is another vista point at West Beach which was unfortunately filled with cars. It’s perched high above the water on the rocky edge of the peninsula. I thought about making another loop through the park but continued on, promising myself I’d come back another day… maybe around sunset.

About a mile and a half in is another great vista point overlooking Burrows Channel. I was able to get some sweeping shots from Skyline Marina to Rosario Strait and make a great panorama of Burrows Island. There’s also some gnarly trees on the bluff, as you can see from the large image above.  There were a few trails that went down the bluff, but you couldn’t pay me walk down those.  The last thing I need is Navy SAR plucking my bloody fat ass off a rocky bluff.

All in all, it was a good trip, but I wish I could have spent more time there. I wish asthma, allergies, and physical fitness weren’t hurdles for me, because it would be nice to walk that 2.2 mile Loop Road and take lots of great images.

Flickr sets from the day:

Washington Park, Anacortes: http://www.flickr.com/photos/wafwot/sets/72157623870255583/

Sunday, May 2, marked the first day in many years that a 150 year old historical building at Ebey’s Landing had seen guests, and I had the honor to tour the interior during the Open House celebration.

One of the oldest houses in all of Washington State, the Ferry House was built in 1860 by Winfield Ebey as an Inn to provide financial stability for his brother’s children who were orphaned when Isaac Ebey was brutally murdered and beheaded by Canadian Indians. The natives sought retaliation for an earlier attack on one of their villages by the warship Massachusetts, and Colonel Isaac Ebey became their target after he was identified as a “great tyee” (chief) by a local farmhand named Thomas Hastie.

Winfield Ebey used wood from Isaac Ebey’s cabins — abandoned after his murder — to construct the Inn. Though they no longer exist, Isaac’s cabins originally stood on the opposite side of the ravine that runs behind the Ferry House. Once completed and open for business, the name “The Ebey Inn” was given to the house. The prime location across Admiralty Inlet from Port Townsend meant a steady flow of travelers and a fine source of income for the Ebey children. With no other nearby accommodations, the Inn — which housed a post office, a tavern, and rooms for overnight guests — quickly became an important place for sailors and other travelers to rest before continuing their journeys on Whidbey Island. Travelers and locals could also purchase merchandise and groceries at the Inn, which served ferry traffic to and from Port Townsend until a new ferry dock was constructed near Fort Casey at the turn of the 20th century. The house stayed in the Ebey family for 57 years, until Isaac Ebey’s grandson sold the old Inn in 1917.

The structure is a one and a half story vernacular residence with Greek Revival elements, clapboard siding, a wood-shingled gable roof, and a gable-roofed dormer on the north facade. Like most pioneer homes, the house started out small and additions were made as they were needed. In 1917, a lightning strike ripped the siding off the southwest wall, busted out two windows, and destroyed one of the two interior chimneys. The chimney was replaced with an exterior one, but today that chimney is now gone. The Inn also had an upper veranda which lasted for several decades before either being blown off, rotting away, or dismantled, it’s unsure which. You can still see where the second story door to the veranda was located just above the front door, though today that door is a window. Modern utilities — like indoor plumbing and electricity — have never been added to the Ferry House. It stands today as a time capsule that provides a unique glimpse into Washington’s early Territorial history. In fact, the old Inn is owned by the National Park Service.  The Ferry House and the 17,500 acres surrounding it became America’s first historical reserve. Ebey’s Landing National Historic Reserve was created in 1978 to protect the rural working landscape and community on Central Whidbey Island. The living Reserve contains 18 working farms, 400 historical structures, native prairies, two state parks, miles of shoreline, a network of trails, and the second oldest town in Washington, Coupeville.

Okay, I think that’s enough of a brief history lesson.  I think a lot more can be learned at the Island County Historical Society Museum in Coupeville.

The reason this historic building had an Open House was to let people experience it in hope it will garnish votes.  The Ferry House has been chosen under a highly competitive selection process as one of 25 finalists to compete for a share of one million dollars in funding for restoration and preservation.  American Express Partners in Preservation is a $5.5 million, five-year commitment to historic preservation that seeks to increase public awareness of the importance of historic preservation in the United States, to help save important historic and cultural landmarks, and to strengthen local communities.  It is a joint effort between American Express and the National Trust for Historic Preservation.

In my opinion, some of the other 24 historic sites are less deserving than the Ferry House.  Other places are open year round and collect money, money which is used for restoration and preservation.  Seriously, look at the 5th Avenue Theater, or Town Hall Seattle.  They’re gorgeous, and meticulously maintained.  Compare those to the images of the Ferry House in my Flickr set.  The poor house is in some serious need of help.  A framework of 2x6s are keeping the second floor from collapsing; the front veranda is completely gone; gaps in the walls expose the interior to the elements; the southwest chimney is missing; the back porch needs rebuilding… to name just a few problems.  The only reason the old Inn isn’t winning the popular vote is because Seattle’s population has their blinders on and is only voting for Seattle landmarks.  Sad.

I don’t think people realize how important Isaac Neff Ebey was to the history of the Puget Sound area. He was instrumental in getting Washington established as a separate territory from Oregon. He worked for the U.S. Customs service. He named the city of Olympia. He was bestowed the title of “Colonel” by the United States government for raising a company of volunteers to fight in the mainland Indian wars of 1855-1856. He assisted in breaking Thurston County into smaller units, among them Island County. He was appointed by President Franklin Pierce to be collector for the Puget Sound district, and inspector of revenues in the new state capital in Olympia. He also relocated his customs office to Port Townsend and made it the official port of entry for Puget Sound. The history of the Ferry House is directly tied to this great pioneer, and it’s truly tragic that it’s in such need of caring attention.

I took shots of this building on April 9, and discovered its history while researching for a nice description of my set on Flickr. I showed up about a half hour early for the open house. I was hoping to take lots of pictures before the hundreds of other guests showed up. I was able to get a few exterior shots before going inside. I was using a manual flash on top of my D90 and bouncing the strobe off the painted ceiling of the old house. I left the camera set to auto white balance, figuring I’d probably have a bit of post production work to do. I got several good images in a challenging lighting environment.  Many of the walls were a dark bare wood, and the midday cloudy light streaming in the windows made for difficult exposures.  But I was comfortable enough with the old flash I was using, and my histograms looked workable.  As I walked through the house, I was saddened by the current state of the old house but happy that it was still here.  I was amazed that it survived 150 years without a major fire, and withstood decades of guests, weather, lightning, and Indians.  I couldn’t help but imagine the ghosts of guests past.  A fire burning in each of the fireplaces, candles flickering in drafts caused by wind whistling between gaps in the old wooden walls, the aroma of a freshly cooked breakfast prepared on the wood stove wafting upstairs to awaken the guests, or the floorboards creaking under footsteps upstairs.  It’s just an amazing feeling being surrounded by such history.  It reminded me of my first visit to Independence Hall in Philadelphia.

I can only hope that the Partners in Preservation realize the historical importance of this old Inn, and grant it a substantial portion of the $1,000,000 available.  This Place Matters!

After I left the Open House, I went to Front Street in Coupeville.  One of the Flickr groups I’m a member of has a weekly assignment.  This week’s assignment was “Downtown.”  I figured the pool would be full of metropolitan city skylines reflecting off waterfronts, and I wanted to show that “downtown” could be a small town with a population of 1,765.  It started raining while I was downtown, light at first, heavier as I worked my way back to where I parked.  Keeping the lens dry in a breezy seaside town is not easy.  I did fairly well keeping my lens free of raindrops until my final 5 or 6 shots.  My D90 was surprising wet when I climbed into my truck.  I blotted it dry with a golf towel I keep attached to my tripod.  When I got home, I blotted the camera some more, then put it and ten desiccant packets in a plastic bag and put it back in my camera bag.  The next day I pulled it back out and cleaned it thoroughly.  Thankfully, everything is still 100% operational.

Flickr sets from the day:

The Ferry House: 2010 Partners in Preservation Open House
Downtown Coupeville: http://www.flickr.com/photos/wafwot/sets/72157623980646110/

Every year, the Dutch Mafia of Oak Harbor, Washington, hold a three-day celebration honoring the stranglehold they have on the town.  Oh, they disguise it as the “Holland Happening,” glorifying Oak Harbor’s Dutch heritage.  Whatever your opinion may be, the street-blocking event — parade and street fair and carnival, oh my — interrupts the normal maelstrom of island life in this seaside Navy town.  Being the last weekend in April, the 41st annual Holland Happening was in full swing.  I decided that I would take my camera to the carnival to make some nice captures with all the lights.

I grabbed my gear and left the house a little after 7pm.  I made way way to Bayshore Drive and was a little surprised at the amount of traffic.  I looked for a place to park, but couldn’t find one.  I couldn’t turn left on Pioneer Way to circle around because Pioneer Way was closed off for the street fair.  Excellent.  So, I drove up Midway Boulevard, turned left on 8th Avenue, then left on Barrington Drive to City Beach Street where I turned left again to make my way back to Bayshore Drive.  I was almost at the end of Bayshore again before I found enough space before the painted curb where I could park.  The sun was still pretty high up in the sky, so I navigated my way through the menu system of my camera — setting up the camera for low light images — before I exited my truck.  There were lots, I not kidding, LOTS, of people jammed into this carnival, so I figured the tripod would not be a good idea.

I started out with my 18-105mm kit lens since there was still plenty of light.  I walked around the carnival, taking shots of rides in the golden hour, that hour of time before sunset.  I was trying to keep the shutter speed around 1/60 in order to accentuate the motion of the rides.  The throngs of hoodie-wearing teenagers texting each other gathered in the high traffic areas, making it difficult to navigate the carnival.  I was mentally cursing their parents for not teaching manners, then realized it’s probably their parents that choke the isles of Walmart.  I made my way to the midway, and started taking pictures of the games where I met a young man shooting film… with a medium format camera.  Interesting.  We were both waiting for cell phone-wielding teenagers to move the hell out of the way.

As the golden hour turned to the blue hour, I took several shots of the carnival’s signature ride, the Moonraker.  The Moonraker is also called the Kamikaze, Skymaster, or Ranger in other carnivals and countries, built by Italians in the 1980s.  I was quite disappointed by the shocking lack of lights on this ride.  As you can see by the picture (left) an estimated 80% of the light bulbs on the ride were not lit.  In the blue dusk light, the ride looked pathetic.  The word “MOONRAKER” is supposed to be spelled out in blue bulbs, but only the “A” was lit, and several of those were also dark.  I couldn’t help but think if the amusement company isn’t maintaining the bulbs, what else aren’t they maintaining.  I tried not to think about it as I found a bench to change lenses.

With my 35mm f/1.8 lens attached to my D90, I made another loop through the carnival.  There’s no vibration reduction on the 35 so I had to keep exposures at 1/60 or faster.  Since the 35 is faster than the 18-105, I was able to make captures with the available light at ISO 800.

It was pretty much dark when I was photographing the ferris wheel and Zipper.  Again, I noticed that most of the bulbs on the rides were burnt out.  If the bulbs were working, the shots would have been a lot more interesting.  As it was, the rides looked dingy and dark, and didn’t make for spectacular photos.  I’m seriously contemplating writing a letter to the amusement company to file a complaint.  I may not be a parent, but if I was and noticed the poorly maintained bulbs, I’d have to give serious thought to allowing my loved ones on the rides.  Maybe I’m spoiled by growing up on the east coast, were I don’t remember carnivals coming to town.  We actually made day trips to actual permanent amusement parks like Dorney Park, Six Flags Great Adventure, or even Hershey Park, where the bulbs actually worked and the park always had the appearance of being well maintained.  It’s also possible that as a kid I didn’t give a shit about burnt out bulbs, I just wanted to ride the rides and have a good time.

The next carnival in Oak Harbor is the Fourth of July, and unfortunately, I have a bad feeling the same amusement company will be in town.  They were last year, and I doubt the Dutch Mafia will shell out more money to bring in a bigger or better group of carnies.  Even the Skagit County Fair in Mount Vernon and the Northwest Washington Fair in Lynden is bringing in the same Burnt Bulb Carnival Amusement company.  My only hope of good nighttime ride captures is the Evergreen State Fair in Monroe, or the Puyallup Fair… and I’m not a fair kind of guy.

Flickr sets from the day:

Family Carnival, Holland Happening: http://www.flickr.com/photos/wafwot/sets/72157623802150839/

A friend of mine commented on Facebook about my photos, saying “…he has a really good camera for it. he is a very good photographer.”  Thank you, Mike.  But, while I may be a serious amateur photographer, there’s a lot of room for growth.  I do have a nice camera, but it’s definitely not the nicest camera on the market.  It’s not even the nicest Nikon.  I would gladly trade my D90 for a D700 or a D3s and some professional glass.  Not because it will make me a better photographer, but because I feel it would give me more control over situations to allow my imagination be captured easier and faster.  Today’s gear is convenience.  Mathew Brady or Dorothea Lange didn’t have matrix metering or auto focus, yet they created some of the most famous photographs in history.

A camera to a photographer is like brushes to a painter, or chisels to a sculptor.  All are an artist’s tools.  But tools an artist does not make.  You still need talent.  If you follow me on Facebook, you know that I’ve been thinking of learning how to play the guitar.  However, just buying a guitar will not make me a great guitarist, just as buying a typewriter does not make me a best-selling author.  The same goes for being a good photographer.  Buying a camera doesn’t make you the next Ansel Adams or Annie Leibovitz, just as buying the best camera does not make you a better photographer.  You have to have talent, imagination, and an eye for composition in order to create captivating art.  Without some kind of talent, you will always end up with paintings, sculpture, or photographs that resemble, well, crap.  I’d wager that Pablo Picasso could have painted “Guernica” with Q-tips, balled up wads of tissue paper, and toothpicks instead of actual paint brushes.  The same goes for photographers, who can make a great photograph with film, a cylindrical oatmeal box with a tiny hole, and talent.  If you have talent, you can use any camera to capture your vision.

The photo of my old F-150 above was shot in 2006 using a Fujifilm MX-1700 Zoom.  It’s not your typical dealership picture of a vehicle.  It’s a more interesting view of an ordinary item that’s not normally seen from that angle.   The MX-1700 was a 1.5 megapixel point and shoot camera introduced way back in 1999.  It was the camera I used for a decade to take pictures of everything.  Pictures of weather,  items to sell on eBay, holiday moments, pet parrots, events held by car club and service organizations; all were all done with my little Fuji.  It was all I had.  Granted, I didn’t practice my hobby as much with a P&S as I did when I had my Nikon F3HP in the 1980s or now that I have a D90.  But no matter what camera I’m using, I always try to use my imagination to take the best shot possible.  Another shot taken with my Fuji is the image of the foggy parking lot (left).  Instead of just snapping the picture outside my vehicle, I climbed up a set of stairs and made the capture from a breezeway overlooking the parking lot.  The third image (right) is a drastic angle view of Coit Tower in San Francisco that I shot in 2003 with a borrowed 2 megapixel Sony MVC-CD1000.  I moved out of the parking and closer to the tower, where I found this view through an opening in the trees.  All three images were made with point and shoot cameras, and show how imagination can turn a would-be ordinary snapshot into a quasi-dramatic photograph without the need for expensive cameras.  Better gear wouldn’t have made the images any better, only talent, learning, and practice will make you better at creating.

I have four years of “formal” schooling in photography; two in high school, and two in college.  When I was in high school, we not only learned the technical aspects of producing photographs, but also the artistic aspects.  The entire art department in my high school was like that.  The instructors weren’t just teachers pulling a paycheck.  I feel they were passionate artists that enjoyed teaching their craft.  In my photography classes, I remember a couple of quotes that I’ll never forget.  “Everyone with a camera can take pictures.  Not everyone with a camera can make photographs.”  The other is a quote from Ansel Adams, who said, “Twelve significant photographs in any one year is a good crop.”  Nothing could be further from the truth.  My D90 has over 1,850 shutter clicks, and of those I consider only 15 photographs to be my best.  When you do the math, 99.2% of everything I’ve shot over the past year — with $2,000 worth of gear — is shit.

The point of all this bloviating is to punctuate the fact that any camera will help you record what you’re seeing, but you need talent and imagination to see what you want to record.  When I was in college, I had instructors tell me to look around.  Don’t focus on what first draws your eye.  Take a few steps back, take a few steps closer, look up.  You’d be surprised how many people never look up.  These lessons, along with my imagination and whatever camera I had at the time, has sure helped me to make the photographs I’ve made… and I can only hope to be half as good as the masters of photography before me.

I had an appointment with my allergy doctor today at 2.  His office is in Mount Vernon, which is about 30 miles — or 45 minutes — away.  Traveling through portions of Skagit Valley during the month of April can be like driving in Seattle rush hour traffic, so I left the house at 12:45, knowing that I would run into lunch or tulip traffic.  The last thing I need is a $250 cancellation charge for missing my appointment.  I drove east (north?) on Highway 20 through Deception Pass and stopped for fuel at the Swinomish Casino in Anacortes.   From 20, I took Highway 536 (Memorial Highway) and noticed a bunch of kites in the sky and lots of cars parked around Bradshaw and Young roads, but nothing that slowed my roll into Mount Vernon.  I was making good time until I got close to old downtown and ran into a two mile backup that started at Kincaid Street and ended at Valley View Drive.  I thought about hanging a U-turn and taking Avon Allen Road back to Highway 20 then taking I-5 to College Way, but when I did that last year (during Festival month) I didn’t save any time at all.  So, I inched my way closer and closer.  I finally made it to the doctor’s office, albeit 15 minutes late.

Little did I know that the office called the house when I wasn’t on time.  Normally I would have used my cell phone to inform the doctor’s office I’m in tulip traffic, but I don’t have a phone since being unemployed.  Of course, Tina started to worry because she knew I left the house 90 minutes prior and had no idea I was running late.  My appointment lasted about 45 minutes, and I was heading back to Hwy 536 and all those kites.  I turned left off 536 onto Bradshaw Road and made my way to Tulip Town.

I was directed on where to park, grabbed my D90, and walked up to the gate to pay my $5 to enter the display garden.  There, I took some pictures of the tulips in the International peace garden.  Flags from each country that has an actual International Peace Garden fluttered overhead.  As usual, acres of colorful tulips draws thousands tourists from all over the state, all driving me crazy.  The oblivious nature of people caused me to stand around a bit while mixed-race couples used saliva to straighten their ice cream-eating childrens’ hair.  I did my best taking shots around the garden, but tired quickly of a trio of Mexican-speaking women that were giggling incessantly at every picture they took with their cell phones.

The fields of tulips were a couple hundred yards away, and the only way to them is to walk down a packed dirt road warped with tractor wheel ruts.  Along the way, Old MacDonald was mowing a large field of grass, and me with allergies to dust mites, bird feathers, and grasses.  I’m sure my allergy doc would be yelling at me for leaving my asthma inhaler in my truck, especially since he just gave me a new one less than an hour ago.

I continued down the wagon trail to the edge of the field where Tulip Town had a nice five-foot high platform that folks could walk up to get a higher perspective.  I took several shots from this platform, including half a dozen or so to make into a nice panorama.

Unfortunately, while I was on the platform, the three laughing latinas had made their way to the fields.  Even though there are signs asking people to stay out of the rows of tulips, the Gonzalez triplets couldn’t resist and insisted on snapping the typical tourist poses with their phones, snickering and cackling as they did.  I leap frogged them from color to color before I got tired of rolling my eyes and walked to the far end, and took pictures as I walked my way back.  I was actually surprised at the number of people who simply ignored the numerous signs asking to not pick the flowers and to stay out of the fields.  Not only is it violating the few rules these nice farmers set in exchange for touring their fields, but it’s a pain in the ass for people like me that want to take pictures of tulips only, not tulips and camera-laden tourists.  I even saw a kid of about 8 running around with an entire bouquet of flowers, and many, many people 5, 10, even 20 feet into the rows.  One guy was in the middle of the field!  I was, however, delighted to overhear a young girl disobey her mother by saying, “But Mommy, the sign said don’t.”  I smiled at the girl, who obviously had better manners than her mother.

During this shoot, I started taking several low angle shots.  By low angle, I mean ground level.  I’d meter first, then hold the camera down round my feet, half-press the shutter release to auto-focus, make sure the camera was as level as I could make it, and take the shot.  The results were satisfying to say the least.  I actually have a couple of those hot shoe bubble levels, but they were keeping my albuterol inhaler company back in my truck.  The extra shutter release on the MB-D80 battery grip was a huge help for the low angle vertical shots.  Once I met back up with the mirthful mexicans, I turned the camera off and started the long walk back to the display gardens.  I found a park bench in the shadow of the windmill and checked my shots.  As I’m shooting, I don’t pay as much attention to the captured images as I do to the histograms.  So while I took a short rest, I checked the composition of my shots and was impressed with the low angle images.

Before leaving, I took a couple shots of the Tulip Town Windmill and the Tulip Town Canal.  I actually read that the windmill is a replica of the windmill in the owner’s hometown in Holland, based on actual blueprints, and that’s pretty cool.  I also learned that if I’m going to walk any more than a half mile at one time, do not wear Doc Marten sandals.  I was probably a couple hundred feet from having a full-on blister on the arch of my foot.

The drive home was nice.  It was a 60° day, and I had the stereo turned up and all four windows rolled down… until I got close to Oak Harbor when it started to drizzle.  When I walked in the door, Tina was not happy.  Thanks to the call from the doctor’s office, she was home worrying that I had a blowout and was decapitated in a traffic fatality.  It’s funny to me, but she’s still not laughing.

Flickr sets from the day:

Tulip Town: http://www.flickr.com/photos/wafwot/sets/72157623873136096/

Ebey’s Landing is the nation’s first historical reserve, created in 1978 to protect a rural working landscape & community on Central Whidbey Island. The reserve contains 17,500 acres, 18 working farms, 400 historical structures, native prairies, two state parks, miles of shoreline, a network of trails, and Coupeville, the second oldest town in Washington State.  Today, I had to send off some job search-related mail, so instead of heading into Oak Harbor, I went south towards the Reserve and Coupeville.

First stop was Fort Ebey State Park.  It had been years (decades?) since I last visited Fort Ebey and it’s creepy gun battery tunnels, so I was hoping for some good light.  When I pulled up, the sun was shining brightly so I screwed the 67mm CLP filter on my lens and headed towards the water.  I was going to walk the Bluff Trail, but the winds coming down the Strait of Juan de Fuca were whipping pretty good, and I really had no desire to tumble down the bluff to a certain death.  Instead, I took a few pictures a few yards down the trail then turned back — like the pussy I am — to shoot some pictures in the tunnels.

There’s no electricity in the gun battery, and it’s disturbingly dark going from the bright sunlight into the blackness of the tunnels.  So, I relied on the Focus-Assist lamp on my camera.  Normally I hate that little light, but I went through the menu system of my camera and re-enabled it.  This allowed me to repeatedly half-press the shutter release to activate the Focus-Assist lamp, allowing me to make my way through the tunnels.  Yeah, I should have brought a flash light with me.  Lesson learned?  Buy an LED flashlight and pack it in my camera back.

I took a few pictures in the tunnel, but I wasn’t getting good results with the pop-up flash on the camera.  Giving up, I made my way back out to sunlight.  As I did, a few guys dressed like they were going skydiving were making their way down the stairs of the bluff.  I sat on a picnic bench watching these paragliding pilots unpack their airfoils and get into gear.  The stiff winds coming off the water were goddamn cold!  I was sitting in direct sunlight, but 30 mile an hour winds just cut through you.  Lesson learned?  Bring a jacket on windy early spring days.

Another guy was operating a radio-control glider plane on the edge of the bluff as the paraglider pilots tested the wind, canopy, and their harness.  I stayed put on the picnic bench, quietly snapping pictures as the pilots took to the air one at a time.  I think I got some nice pictures, even if they are somewhat monotonous.  I took a nice series of photos and stitched a great parorama of the area as all three pilots were airborne.  It was fortuitous the pilots showed up while I was at Fort Ebey.  I’d like spend more time taking pictures of the pilots from ground level, but I’m betting my timing will never be that good again.

I had to get to the post office, so I left Fort Ebey and headed towards Coupeville.  A quick stop on Coveland Street and twenty bucks worth $3.099 a gallon gasoline at the Country Store on Main Street, and I was heading west to Ebey’s Landing to take some pictures of The Ferry House.  The Ferry House was built in 1860 to serve as an Inn for travelers, and provide income for Isaac Ebey’s three orphaned children after he was killed and beheaded by the native Indians.  Today, The Ferry House is one of the oldest buildings in Washington State and is currently owned and maintained by the National Park Service.

I turned off Ebey Road and stopped at the gate which has an old sign that barely reads “NO UNAUTHORIZED VEHICLES.”  Nowhere does it say “NO TRESPASSING,” and it is Government property.  Being a tax-paying America citizen, I figured I could get closer, so I ducked between the rails of the fence and walked towards the old house.  I kept glancing back at my truck, expecting some NPS rent-a-cop to come hobbling down the earthen driveway to haul me off the property.  I was almost hoping for some kind of confrontation so I could argue that the land is publically accessible Government property.  But alas, nothing happened.  Anyway, I kept to the edges of the mowed grass, staying away from the old house out of respect to its age.  I walked around, snapping pictures, imagining the history of the building, the famous settlers of the area, and the tragic reason the house was built.  While it’s nice that the old Inn is being restored, it’s sad to see how much it’s changed from the historical pictures I’ve seen online.  The NPS is having a 3-hour open house on May 2, celebrating the building’s 150th anniversary.  I’m afraid there will be so many people there, I won’t be able to get any decent shots sans tourists, but I’ll try.

Flickr sets from the day:

Fort Ebey State Park: http://www.flickr.com/photos/wafwot/sets/72157623696704313/
Paragliders at Ebey: http://www.flickr.com/photos/wafwot/sets/72157623823241128/
The Ferry House: http://www.flickr.com/photos/wafwot/sets/72157623698838013/

Living in the Pacific Northwest isn’t always conducive for shooting, unless you have underwater housings for your gear.  Springtime brings lots of rain and occasional wind, as the past couple days have proved.  So, I took a few of my recent more rustic-looking shots and started playing around with turning them into dynamic monochromatic images.

I started out with GIMP only because my laptop was already booted up with Linux.  I first over-saturated the blue channel to make for darker skies.  Then I desaturated the color images — not converted to greyscale — which allowed a little more control over luminosity.  Desaturating also retains the RGB mode of the image.

I then added a couple new layers.  The first layer’s blend mode was set to “overlay” and filled with a neutral grey (RGB: 128,128,128).  I then added a bit of “film grain” using the HSV Noise filter of GIMP.  This gave the image a grainy look of being created from an old negative.  You can play around with the grain intensity, or adding other filter effects.  I actually started blurring the grain effect just a bit, which looked more “filmy” to me.  The second layer’s blending mode was set to “color” and filled with a sepia-colored grey.  I was playing around with different colors, but seemed to stick to slightly yellowish-orange grey (RGB: 128,128,100).  Again, a bit of playing around with the color and the brightness or contract of color will lead to a pleasing tone.  Returning to the background layer with the original image, I adjust the brightness and contract to make the black and white image pop.  I then duplicated the background layer, and added a layer mask.  Selecting the layer mask, I used the gradient tool with a radial type to make a dark “spotlight.”  I then selected the main layer (and not the mask), and adjusted the Levels (found under the Colors menu) to darken the corners of the image.  This creates a vignette effect, typical of older, antique photos.

The same effects can be created in Photoshop with the identical method of multiple layers of “overlay,” “color” and layer masks.  The menus are named differently and not in the same places, but the capability is identical to GIMP.  I also downloaded a bunch of different Adobe Lightroom Presets.  If you Google Lightroom Develop Presets you’ll find a bunch of saved develop mode settings that you can use to change your images.  These presets don’t do anything that you can do yourself with some time (a lot of time), but allows you to “recall” settings used by or created by others.  My new black and white Flickr set doesn’t have any Lightroom-created monochromatic images, but I installed the presets and will use them soon.

Flickr sets from the day:

Black and White: http://www.flickr.com/photos/wafwot/sets/72157623753307504/

On Saturday, March 27, 2010, I woke up to sunny blue skies… perfect for taking some nice pictures.  I knew the tulip fields in Skagit Valley were blooming early — thanks to our mild winter — and decided to head over to La Conner.

By the time I left the house at 10am, the marine layer was filtering the sunlight.  To give the sun time to burn off the haze, I stopped off at Blue Cow to clean my truck.  Vacuuming, pressure-washing the pollen off, pre-brushing the wheels, then a trip through the automatic tunnel only killed an hour… and the sun was still filtered.

To kill more time, I headed into Anacortes to take a few shots from Cap Sante Park.  There’s a nice vista area up there, overlooking Fidalgo Bay and the Cap Sante Marina.  The filtered sun was affecting the light entering my lens through the Hoya CPL filter, so I removed it and attached the Hoya UV.  From there I drove to the north end of town and walked around the outskirts of the shipyards.  I couldn’t find any good shots that didn’t include a massive amount of powerlines and cars, so I gave up.  I snapped a few pictures of the Municipal Bulding because it stood out against the hazy blue sky.  I then headed to Cap Sante Marina.  The filtered sunlight was still pissing me off, but after taking a few shots at the marina, I decided to grab some lunch before heading over to RoozenGaarde.

Oh Em Gee!  I thought that going to the tulip festival early in the season I would avoid the crowds.  I was wrong.  When I turned onto Beaver Marsh Road, I knew it wasn’t going to be a good time.  The parking field was packed with cars, and it was only 12:30.  The rains the night before forced the RoozenGaarde people to lay down wood chips to keep cars and people out of the mud.  I found a spot close to the road, but a good distance from the entrance to the garden.  Walking on the rain-soaked wood chips was like walking on a giant wet kitchen sponge.  By the time I made it to the entrance, the line was quite long.  Damn tourist!  Go back to Seattle and admire your giant needle and leave the tulip fields to us locals!

While standing in line to pay my four dollars to enter the gardens, I snaped a couple pictures; one of the line I was in, and another across the driveway into the South Garden.  When I finally got inside, the place was like a high school hallway between classes.  People everywhere.  How was I going to get any good shots of the fields with all there camera-toting tourists tiptoeing through the tulips?  One thing I noticed is the majority of people with DSLR cameras were shooting Canon.  Why?  I mean, the ratio was like 4 Canons to ever Nikon I saw.

I focused (pardon the pun) on the flowers in the display garden.  Closeups of the different tulips and daffodils without humanity distracting the backgrounds was pretty easy.  But once I left the display garden and headed out to the fields, it was a different story.  For reasons the are obvious, people aren’t allowed into the rows of flowers, so everyone was confined to the edges of the fields where farm tractors had left large ruts that filled up with rain and turned muddy.  Believe it or not, children love — absolutely love — jumping in mud puddles.  And we all know that parents today would never scold their children for being little mud puddle-splashing assholes.  Why would they?

After navigating the muddy trails to the fields, I took several closeup and wide view shots of the colorful early tulips that weren’t quite in full bloom.  I even took a several shot to create a panorama of the fields before I had enough of being bumped and nudged by other people who wanted my dry island of clay dirt.  I made way way across the shallow mud to a pen of alpaca.  They were quite acclimated to humans and even took grass from your hand.  I tried to get some good shots of these animals, but being shoved out by children trying to feed and pet the alpacas.

I put the lens cap on, slung my D90 over my shoulder, and made my way out of the gardens back to my truck.  The wood chips didn’t cover the entire muddy parking lot, and I was cursing myself for washing the truck just a few hours earlier as I was exiting the parking field.  Luckily I was able to avoid the mud by driving up on the grass between the muddy aisles.  Back on the road, I mad way to downtown La Conner.  Holy hell, that place was packed with cars, too.  So I headed out Maple Avenue towards the Swinomish reservation to take some pictures of the Rainbow Bridge over the Swinomish Channel.

I first headed into Shelter Bay to take a few shots from a small picnic area at the end of Chinook Place.  Leaving Shelter Bay, I stopped and took a few shots of the marina.  From there, I headed back over the bridge to Pioneer Park to take a few more shot of the bridge from the south.  I ended up driving past the park and down under the bridge on Sherman Street.  Have you taken a shot you just knew was good.  That’s what happened when I took this picture.  Looking at the LCD to check the histogram, I glanced at the image, and just knew it was going to make the highlight reel.  I made an illegal U-turn and headed back to Pioneer Park.  Walking around the edge of the hill, I found myself under the bridge and took a few pictures of the bridges underbelly.

Tired from all the walking and sunshine, I headed home to Whidbey Island.  Before making my way to the house, I stopped off at City Beach Park to feed the seagulls the leftover fries I had at lunch.  Seagulls love french fries.  When there were many gulls around wanting their share, I put the camera in AF-C mode and experimented with shooting the birds in flight.  While kinda of boring, I was pleased with the results.

I spent the next few hours running many of my shots through Lightroom and uploading images to Flickr.  One thing I must remember to do is reset the camera! The entire day of photos was shot with the camera’s Picture Control set to “Vivid.” Now, normally this wouldn’t have been bad, but a couple days before shooting, I was playing with the saturation levels, and left the levels maxed out. This caused all the reds of my shots to be far too bright. I might start looking at the color histogram view instead of the composite. Hopefully I’ve learned my lesson.

You can check out all the sets from this outing using the links below.

Flickr sets from the day:

Cap Sante Marina: http://www.flickr.com/photos/wafwot/sets/72157623721753884/
Downtown Anacortes: http://www.flickr.com/photos/wafwot/sets/72157623718057614/
RoozenGaarde Tulips: http://www.flickr.com/photos/wafwot/sets/72157623593636487/
Alpacas, RoozenGaarde: http://www.flickr.com/photos/wafwot/sets/72157623718234536/
Rainbow Bridge: http://www.flickr.com/photos/wafwot/sets/72157623718267078/
Shelter Bay Marina: http://www.flickr.com/photos/wafwot/sets/72157623718293390/
Seagulls: http://www.flickr.com/photos/wafwot/sets/72157623593763349/

Because employers want to see Social Security cards when they employ people (probably a side effect of 9/11), I had to make a trip to the mainland. The last time I saw my government-issued card I was still living with my parents in West Chester. The trip to Mount Vernon was necessary in order to request a replacement card. Never wanting to waste an opportunity to take some pictures, I took my camera with me.

I stopped at the Chevron station on the Swinomish reservation for gas.  While I was pumping gas, I noticed the the front left tire seemed a little low.  Luckily the tribe has free air, so I pulled up to the hose to top off the tires with 50 psi.  While recoiling the line, I noticed the railroad swing bridge that spans the Swinomish channel and decided to see how close I could get to it.  Surprisingly, I was able to drive up to a dilapidated pier that was fenced off.  It provided me with a few decent pictures.  Unfortunately, the end of the pier lined up perspectively with the level of the tracks on the bridge.  I kind of wished I could have jumped on top of my truck, but that would have been ugly.  The histograms and thumbnails looked good.  This was the first time I was shooting with a $60 Hoya CPL that Tina bought for me on eBay for $15, and pictures looked good in the camera.

Back in my truck, I headed off to Mount Vernon.  The Social Security office moved from where I knew it was on Riverside to a new location on College Way, but I found it without problem.  Luckily I was able to park right outside a full-length window of the office where I kept a watchful eye on my truck and it’s precious Nikon cargo.  After an hour of waiting, number A-122 was being called to Window 4.  That’s me.  I gave the government agent my carefully-crafted government form and I showed her my state-issued driver’s license.  She read me some pithy policy about fraud and asked me if I understood, which I did.  She then handed me a receipt and said my card would be mailed to me within two weeks.  Three minutes.  I couldn’t do that online?  Whatever.

I headed out College Way, under I-5, and stopped at the Division Street bridge crossing the Skagit River.  This is also a swing bridge that I don’t think swings any longer.  I snapped several photos of the bridge, including some vertical shots for a panorama.

Now on WA-536, I didn’t think I’d find any tulips, but I knew the daffodil fields were in full bloom.  Before I even got out of Mount Vernon, I found a field of daffodils next the Skagit Valley Bank.  I made a hard right into the parking lot and jumped out to take a few pictures.  There were “NO TRESPASSING” signs along the edge, so I couldn’t get real close, but I got a few good shots.  Giant fields of yellow flowers are pretty impressive subjects for taking pictures.

I turned off 536, looking for fields of color.  I found a nice large field of daffodils on Best Road, and I was the only one there.  The sky was nice and blue with big fluffy clouds.  The contrast of the yellow flowers against the blue sky was spectacular, and the clouds made for some great pictures.  I spent about a half an hour there just taking it all in, taking pictures along the edge of the field.  While I was there, a nice elderly couple pulled up to snap some photos.  We exchanged pleasantries as I was leaving.

Dumping the card at home, I was pleased with the colors I was getting with the CPL filter.  As usual, you can check out the photos at Flickr.

Flickr sets from the day:

BNSF Swing Bridge: http://www.flickr.com/photos/wafwot/sets/72157623593685697/
Skagit River Bridge: http://www.flickr.com/photos/wafwot/sets/72157623718259990/
Skagit Daffodils: http://www.flickr.com/photos/wafwot/sets/72157623551410923/

Since my untimely unemployment from The Company, I’ve been spending more time taking pictures. I bought the camera in January of 2009, and haven’t really had the time to enjoy it. The long commute to and from Seattle left very little time for dinner, let alone daylight for taking pictures. But now that I’m fully on the job search treadmill, I have some extra time to spend with my camera and even bought a new 35mm f/1.8 prime with some tax refund money.

It’s always good to learn from your shooting experiences. To that end, I wanted the capability  — a diary of sorts — to document what I learned or experienced while out with my camera. Thanks to this WordPress theme, the best image (I deem) from the shoot will be attached to the blog entry, along with the EXIF information of the image and the summary of the day.  I’ll also provide the link to the sets in my Flickr photostream so you can review all the images.  Feel free to subscribe to the RSS feed if you wish to follow me as I chase the light…