Fog on the Landscape
Summer has melted away and I’m left wondering where it went. Judging from my faint presence here, I’ve done or accomplished nothing. I’ve learned to mistrust my judgements of myself. When pressured to make an accounting, often in response to that question while writing in my journal, I’ll see the discrepancy between what I tell myself and what actually transpired. Seems I have a refined talent to forget actions and adventures, large and small.
Still, there has been some odd disinterest of late in writing here on Scooter in the Sticks despite continued riding and generating photos and experiences. I can only attribute the phenomenon to the natural ebb and flow of my life.
Lily and Junior Interrupted
This post is forced. I’ve been resisting it since I enjoyed a fine ride on a wet and misty morning a week ago. When I took the dogs outside for their morning walk and saw fog on the mountains I made a brief apology to Junior and Lily for an aborted walk and pushed the Vespa out of the garage and toward the veil of mist and moisture.
It’s become obvious to me now that my disinterest in Scooter in the Sticks is a direct result of the photographic ideas in my head that were generated during my exhibit in August. The creative satisfaction derived on the blog was no longer sufficient and I’ve been preoccupied by the next photo project.
Whatever it might be.
Gordon Harkins
My friend Gordon has a blog called The Urn of Inertia that he created as a place to post the photographs that emerge when carrying a camera. And with the hope that a continual posting of new work might motivate a photographer forward to some new project. He was gracious enough to allow me to post to the site and on and off we both make use of it.
I’ve found it helpful. When I utilize it.
Vespa in the Lush Landscape
The ride was not as foggy as I hoped and as I left the pavement and into the nearby Rothrock State Forest it was apparent that the fog was quickly traveling upwards to become clouds. Still, the ride, and the landscape, it was an exceptionally beautiful morning to ride.
Ribbons of Water in the Forest
Water was everywhere with the remnants of tropical storm Gordon. In all the years I’ve wandered this forest, I’ve seldom seen so much water flowing.
Vespa and Temporary Waterfalls
The forest was alive with the sound of water. Loud as it ran down the mountainsides, and in places higher up, the quieter sound of it dripping from trees.
Elves and Vespa Scooters
Fog adds to the feeling of being delightfully alone. And paints the landscape with a brush of magic that fires my imagination. I do believe in elves. I’ve just not seen one yet. Even though I’ve been on these roads for close to fifty years, they’ve not lost their attraction. And I still see things I’ve not seen before.
3am in Boalsburg
Kim and I walk the dogs in the evening. Evening stretches from dusk to dawn for us. This walk at 3am provided us with some exercise, the dogs opportunities to read the neighborhood, and a chance for me to experiment with the Fuji Xpro-1 at ISO 25600.
I feel my world beginning to take shape in regard to writing, photography and projects. With that comfort will come easier posting here.
Or so I believe at the moment…
I saw the fog and thought. That’s not fog it is the smoke from forest fires . However as I recall the state of Pennsylvania was not affected as western portions of the USA and Canada with forest fires.
Hmm. The two dogs were no doubt unhappy; another day then for them.
However for you, the exhibit of photographs was closure of one chapter of your life or perhaps the spark that will now redirect your photography to a different level.
Few fires here and when there are they’re small in comparison to those in the West. Not sure if the dogs are unhappy, or even disappointed. They just seem to return to an idling mode, content to wait for the next opportunity. I could learn something from that behavior.
You’re correct in that I’m currently redirecting my photography. Like a good scooter ride — not sure where I’m going or where I’ll end up…
I certainly understand your lack of interest in writing during certain episodes. I have the same, whether it be lack of time or purely lack of interest. It comes and goes, as it should.
Your posts are beautiful when they do come…
Of late the writing for the blog has been going. But like you say, it is cyclical. I suspect I’ll be posting again.
Glad to have read these thoughts of yours Steve. Dropping out for a while has added some real juice to your writing . Please keep this rolling. ??
Your comment made me think of Timothy Leary’s phrase for the mid ’60s, “Turn on, tune in, drop out.” While I’m not turning on chemically, the camera has me turned and tuned. You’re probably right about the benefits of dropping out.
Those lovely pics just make want to get out and explore on those marginal days when you know you should get but too often don’t Tell me Steve why I should not buy a Fujifilm X bit of kit.
Marginal days are, in my opinion, the best days for photography. Everything changes when the sun isn’t shining.
There must be a half-dozen or more different Fuji X camera systems. The choice depends on what you want to do and how much money you want to spend. Fuji makes great cameras and lenses. I come close to purchasing a new camera all the time thinking it will cure all that’s wrong with me and cause me to make spectacular images. The sad truth is my current cameras far outstrip my needs. Something new is just a diversion. Unless your current camera is a real dog, there’s not a lot of reasons to get a new one.
Sadly, what you say about the gear is so very true. Certainly isn’t about the need so much as the want. Thoughtful advice … Shirley would agree completely. Just get out there with whatever you have and enjoy.
As an old departed friend once said to me, “Full flounder ahead!” I try to do that myself and as you say just get out there and enjoy.
There are some really nice photos above. I like the peaceful and mysterious foggy ones and the nighttime photo. Paul
Lot’s of mystery in the air lately. I keep waiting for a police car to stop us at 3am and ask, “What the hell are you two idiots doing?”
The light at 3am in Boalsburg is…worth seeing.
I really love the portrait of Gordon Harkins as well. His face, the context, the light and shadow…it’s a great image.
I agree with you about the fog, as well. Here in Oregon where I live with the onset of fall and the not-too-distant arrival of winter on the event horizon, the prospect of fog and mist and morning banks of fog which make one feel in a recognizable but alien landscape…is something I have been looking forwards to. It’s nice to see it (the fog, the mist) in your photographs.
It’s a different world at 3am. I wonder how many people have never ventured out at that time?
Gordon is a great subject. I miss seeing him every weekend at Saint’s Cafe since he moved to New York.
You’re absolutely right about fog creating a recognizable but alien landscape. Perfect words. I’ll have to remember them.
You should try knocking at death’s door to sort your motivations! Ha ha. Dear Steve I miss you so very very much and wish you knew how much I enjoy seeing your pictures to carry me out of bed and back to my feet.
I’ll tell you this: if you had gone through this your fears would fade away like fog before your Vespa. I am a new man. You would be too after the nurse told your wife they were trying to stop you dying – and succeeded! Don’t be afraid my dear friend. It’s not worth it.
I can only imagine how your situation would give rise to thoughts of what you’re doing with your life. Given the choice, I’ll pass on that particular option for learning. I fear the situation would be more than we could bear. You’re a stronger man than I.
I’ll be posting an account of your trip here and our little ride together soon. I want to do it right!
Hope things continue to improve and that your recovery is speedy.
First off: Take your time in posting. I can tell you the dust atop my two blogs can likely be measured on a cheap scale, but that won’t last long – I’ve a ton of posts in my head, but haven’t organized then just yet.
About photographic inspiration: Tell me about it. My wife has been on a bit of a creative tear this year, to the point where, she’s dusted off her Rolleiflex and charged me with moving up the schedule to clear out the basement for setting up the darkroom we’ve been talking about since moving. (I have my own motivations to do this, so I’m quite happy to oblige.) Of course, the main action starts once she’s fully recovered from upcoming surgery to replace her left knee – the last of her joints that haven’t been replaced – in early November.
It sounds like your exhibit lit a bigger, hotter fire than expected for you. That’s exactly what happened after my exhibit, but only now am I getting things aligned for the next bit. Your next bit is likely to come more than a bit sooner.
And: I’ve been zipping around on Melody a good bit, and just completed my second group ride with the quite-new Jersey Shore Chaos Crew Scooter Club. We’re plotting a third ride for October 14th, tentatively for – believe it or not – New Hope, PA! We’ll see how this goes, with the crew, but I’m all-in.
The sound of water in the woods…sometimes startling, but usually soothing and gently invigorating. And, from your photos, simply mesmerizing.
Gorgeous pics as usual Steve.
As to the mentioned resistance to blogging….I believe also its the ebb and flow of life, which is a much more elegant way to express the feeling….rather than “ennui” that I’ve been using.
I had a mildly adventurous Summer to stoke my fires. In July I dusted off the ten speed, 1970s Raleigh and did an escorted ten mile ride with a few hundred other souls. Despite not being on the bike for over ten years I rode without distress.
In the first week of September I ventured out on a motorcycle rally with another three hundred bikes. In deference to my lack of riding time of late I left the heavy Kawasaki home and used the 250 Nighthawk. Keeping pace in the Police escorted ride with motorcycles having over 100 cubic inch engines with a scant 15 cubes had me dancing on the shift lever.
The scenery was fantastic and green here in Dutchess County, the group was fairly cohesive and the charity event raised a decent amount of money. I even saw one scooter, a BMW C-650 in the group.
Sounds as if you’ve had a fine summer. Getting back on a bicycle is a nice change of pace. I brought my bike out of retirement and have done a few rides though so far have avoided the steep hills. Not sure I’m ready for that.
The green scenery here is beginning to change to autumn colors so the rides remain lovely. Duchess County must be nice. And across the river you enter the Catskills. Move lovely riding I suppose. Hope to get up that way someday.