These were taken yesterday evening in Longmont. The iPhone is not good at handling sunset light. The photo with the tree is pretty true in terms of color, and I was able to color-correct the image at bottom right reasonably well. For the other two I gave up and decided to just enjoy that inky blue.
This is part of some kind of panel that I found at the Spring Creek Botanic Gardens Christmas light exhibit in Fort Collins. I failed to determine how it was being used (crowds, plus my own general distractability), but it looked interesting to me. Maybe someone can tell me what it is.
Colorado State University Horticulture Center. iPhone photograph taken late December 2018.
I’m keenly missing many things from Southern Illinois—besides my friends, I mean, whom I miss constantly. Maybe it’s time to tally up a few things I like about Colorado and Loveland, to allay a sort of disoriented feeling I’ve been getting lately when I ponder that I really live out here now:
- Cool nights even on hot days.
- Lilacs. The lilacs out here grow much larger and bloom much longer than they do in Southern Illinois. (I guess the cold nights agree with them.) The large lilac in my yard bloomed for a full month this May. And in Loveland there are enough lilac bushes to perfume the air for several weeks.
- Rocky Mountain National Park. Now that U.S. 34 is once again open through Big Thompson Canyon, it’s less than an hour away. Also: The Peak-to-Peak Highway, which runs from Black Hawk to Estes Park, and the drive from Fairplay over the mountains to Breckinridge. I’m itching to do some mountain drives that are new to me.
- The sky. Although I don’t see as much of it as I’d like to, I see enough to appreciate that the clouds are very interesting out here. If it weren’t for the fact that winters and summers are both more extreme out on the open plains, and everything so remote, I’d like to live out there. Since my house has no mountain view, I wish it at least had a good view of the sky. Fortunately, things open out just a block or two from home.
- Benson Sculpture Garden in Loveland, which has more than 100 works of art, mostly bronzes, in a very pretty pond setting.
- Aspens, of course, and columbines, with their lovely molded five-cupped centers.
- Tokyo Joe’s, a “fast-casual” chain where I can get a big bowl of udon noodles, veggies, and wild salmon for $11.65. Oh, and New York–style pizza bought by the slice. Yeah, they have that here! I wouldn’t be my mother’s daughter if I didn’t mention food in some fashion.
- No chiggers! As Calvin Trillin knows, this is never the least consideration in any list of positive attributes.
That’s a start. More later, I hope.
I love purples of every hue. This was probably taken with a K-1000, then digitized.
Canon PowerShot S40.
Taken with a Canon PowerShot S40; cropping and slight manipulation in Photoshop.
My Pentax K-50 is failing to open the aperture of the lens, or at least I think that’s what’s wrong with it. This picture of my dining-room light fixture was a serendipitous result.
Here are two details from “Albedo” (2010), by Osman Akan. “Albedo” is a two-story-tall sculpture installed in an open area of the parking garage at the Denver Botanic Gardens. It’s made of dichroic glass panels affixed to long, vertical, curving steel tubes. As the identification sign explains, “Albedo is the measure of how strongly an object reflects light. It is an important concept in climatology, astronomy and computer graphics—a relevant combination of disciplines for the Gardens and for Akan, whose art specializes in the physics of light.”
At 3 p.m. on April 2, the sculpture was casting teal shadows on the wall behind it. I didn’t get a good photo of that, so I need to go back. It would be interesting to document how the color and intensity of the square panels change throughout the day, how they vary from sunny to cloudy days, and how they alter over the seasons. I also want to take photographs of this sculpture from which I can isolate even smaller details. I find the colors and the overlapping forms almost hypnotic in their effect.