Woodhenge
I’ve taken a few pictures along Chuckanut Drive overlooking Samish Bay and the San Juan Islands. This improvised trilithon, built by an unknown visitor in August, framed the idea of Chuckanut—the trees, the rock face, the Salish Sea.
The Pacific
I’ve taken a few pictures along Chuckanut Drive overlooking Samish Bay and the San Juan Islands. This improvised trilithon, built by an unknown visitor in August, framed the idea of Chuckanut—the trees, the rock face, the Salish Sea.
Aerial photography allows you to “rehearse” a route once and then use autopilot to repeat the circle. Of all the angles, I love seeing the 1905 Coupeville Town Wharf in front of the town it symbolizes. And for my friends back in New England, this is Whidbey Island, Washington, not Maine.
I used aerial cameras for this, flying in from several miles away over Deception Pass at the North tip of Whidbey Island, Washington. I was thrilled to turn the camera down and capture the 1935 bridge that floats almost two hundred feet above a silvery spring afternoon.
It’s difficult to hard to render the scale of Hubbard Glacier, even in a wide photograph – it’s nearly as tall as a 40-story building. The fractured wall of blue ice dominates the foreground, yet beyond it rise snowfields, mountains, and glaciers stretching toward the horizon. And it thunders as it continues, inexorably, to Disenchantment Bay.
Lime Kiln Lighthouse is poised on the western shore of San Juan Island on the Salish Sea, looking toward Victoria, BC and the Olympic Mountains across the water. I took many photos and selected this one for its symmetry (which required my balancing on a rock edge.)
Shot on an extremely dark late October morning near the mouth of the Samish River, near Edison, Washington, I was drawn to the long-abandoned wreck of a wooden boat, its owners and journeys lost to time.
Flying above Misty Fjords National Monument near Ketchikan, breaks in the late-summer cloud bank revealed dark lakes and forested ridges thousands of feet below. The shifting weather opened and closed the landscape by the minute, offering a fleeting glimpse into one of North America's most dramatic coastal wildernesses before the mist reclaimed it. It’s also vast and silent – about the size of Connecticut – with no buildings or development.
On our Alaska voyage, Queen Elizabeth could not travel all the way into Disenchantment Bay, (icebergs & oceanliners, anyone?) so we transferred to two smaller excursion boats to get closer to the glaciers. One of the boats can be seen here, , giving a sense of the scale of Turner Glacier behind it. Turner is roughly half the height of Hubbard Glacier just to the east, which makes the comparison even more striking.
Late summer weather in Alaska is capricious, so I was fortunate to capture this helicopter (look closely) hovering above Mendenhall Glacier near Juneau. The glacier's luminous blue ice and surrounding peaks made for a spectacular scene, but what I remember most – this was also the place and time of my wedding day.