Why I Moved to New Mexico

[Editor's Note:  This really is not a "Cutler Park Chronicles" story, and these are not images from Cutler Park.  But at the moment, I don't have another blog ready to go (I'm workin' on it), and these images and the story behind them can't wait, so they have to go here.]




We had an amazing visual display at sunset this evening, but it wasn't in the western sky.  And there's a story to it . . .

The day started like this, at dawn (6:20a):

Not a bad start.  But the best was yet to come.

This afternoon we were out running errands, and could see a giant storm cloud/system forming in the north and moving south toward us.  Of course I didn't have my camera with me -- guess I'll have to take it everywhere now! -- so by the time we got home and I got outside, the leading edge of the clouds was almost directly overhead.  You can't really tell how LARGE it was, but here's how it looked as it moved from north to south (left to right), as I looked east at 5:04p:

To give you a sense of the size of this storm, the mountain you see at the bottom center of the image is 10 miles away and is 5,000 feet higher than the surrounding terrain.

Eventually, the system moved over us, but we were on the western edge, so it was sunny on our side, and we got no rain.  The mountain 10 miles to the east on the other side of the river, however, did get the rain (6:02p):

 The system kept moving south and east, leaving the mountain cloaked in a lot of gloomy, uninteresting clouds (6:31p): 

So after dinner, I repaired to my computer to process the afternoon's images.  Eventually, about 8:20p, just after sunset (which was at 8:15), I came up for air and looked out the back window.  OMG!

The storm system had moved south and east, past Albuquerque, and the setting sun, now below the horizon, was still shining on the storm clouds in the southeast.  Here's how the sky looked in the west (woo-hoo!):

I grabbed the camera, put on my shoes, and ran out the front door, across the road (8:23pm) . . .

 to the hill about 100 yards north of our house to get a better view (8:24):
 

The light was going fast, so I shot as fast as I could, juggling my settings and checking my histograms continuously.  It was like an explosion in the sky . . .

8:25pm:
 

8:26pm:

By 8:27pm, it was all over, except for the western edge of the cloud formation still catching light from the sun, being watched by the waxing moon:

From the time I looked out the back window to the time it was essentially over, seven minutes had passed.  But wasn't it glorious!


This is why I came here.

I'll Fly Away

After 39 years in public media -- the last 22 of them at WGBH in Boston -- plus raising two boys, putting them through college, etc., we've saved enough to start a new chapter in our lives.

Two years ago we bought a house in Corrales, New Mexico (just outside of Albuquerque), as our eventual retirement getaway.

The last piece of the puzzle was whether we could net enough from the sale of our Boston house to make the long-term financial plan work.

So we spent days getting the house ready -- repainting, re-wallpapering, re-plastering ceilings . . . 

throwing out papers, boxes, cabinets . . .

 and then staging the living space for show and sale.

We put the house on the market in mid-April, and by the end of May we had an offer that met our financial plan goal.

Since then, we've been finishing the job:  cleaning out the attic, garage, and basement.  More stuff to the curb.  The pickers have been coming by religiously on Sunday evenings before trash pick-up on Monday mornings.  Don't know what the garbage men think, but I expect they'll be glad to see us go.

So now we're down to our final days in Boston.  The moving company comes to pack us up on Thursday; they load the truck on Friday; and we put a few things in the car and leave Saturday for a 2,200 mile drive from Boston to Corrales.

Once we get out there and unpack a bit, I'll post some final images from Cutler Park, selected from the very few outings I've made since January.

And then I expect to open a whole new vista for you from New Mexico.  I'll keep you posted about that.

The Best of 2011

2011 brought a range of photographic opportunities for me, from the very large . . .

to the very small . . .

strange . . .

and simple . . .

abstract . . .

and literal . . .

machines . . .

monuments . . .

and moments of joy . . .

pain . . .

peace . . .

and awe . . .

each beautiful in its own way.

You can see them all (and more) in four “Best of 2011” galleries at my Hastings Street Photography website by clicking here.

In Praise of Patience

All things come to those who wait.  -- Proverb

This morning’s sky didn’t seem too promising:  two bands of low clouds, the lower blocking where the sun would be on the horizon.  Lots of blue-gray; no chance for color.

                                                6:32am

When the sky is boring, I look for other things to shoot, such as light on the water:

                                                 6:37am

or ice along the edge of the water:

                                                 7:01am

And if I’m really bored, I’ll toss small rocks into the water and shoot the interplay of light and ripples:

                                                7:06am

In the meantime, as you can see from the image above, a few small clouds had begun to appear higher in the sky:

                                                7:03am

Eventually, 12 minutes after official sunrise, the sun rose high enough to light up the gap between the two bands of clouds:

                                                7:07am

And then, suddenly, when the sun shone through the gap between the two bands, the whole scene came together dramatically.

                                             7:12am

Patience.

December Images

December skies at Cutler Park continued the same pattern that has been in place since September:  either the skies were cloudy (as they were on December 18) . . .

Or they were perfectly clear (as they were on December 22, the Winter Solstice) . . .

Or, sometimes, they were both (as they were on December 4) when the sky went from clear . . .

To covered only 37 minutes later . . .

But the varying conditions provided interesting patterns on the water . . .

And beautiful light in the woods along the trail . . .

You can see these and other images at my website by clicking here.