Tag Archives: fog

Wayback Machine

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NeedJurassic2363

I don’t know about you but sometimes I need some Jurassic. You know, a place back a ways, where there were little or no modern technologies, kind of like Northern Wisconsin is today. But sometimes even Northern Wisconsin isn’t far enough back. That’s when I need some Jurassic.

Fortunately for us here at the Institute we were able to get the plans for a Wayback machine from a down on his luck scientist by the name of M Peabody. Actually it was his long-suffering assistant, Sherman, who got us the plans. After a long negotiation that included the offer of food and new shoes we secured the able assistance of Sherman plus our Department of Things That Go Bump in the Night to construct the machine and the Butler building we keep it in.

We needed the Butler building, which for you non-architectural types is a large free-standing metal building, ours is big enough that we could house the Hindenburg and three of its cousins, before it exploded of course, and covers nearly 22 acres. Why so big? you ask. It’s because we here at the Institute have made some modifications in the Wayback machine since it was first constructed.

The primary difference is that in the old machine, it would transport you to the past. The new machine transports the past to you. So when you set a time on its Wayback dial it brings approximately 22 acres of the past forward into our Butler building. That way if you go in there and you find it is full of things much larger than you that want to eat you, you can quickly run out the service door and lock it behind you.

There was a small oversight in our planning however that turned out to be a slightly larger problem than we anticipated. The short story is we built the Wayback machine inside of the building and neglected to install a Goback switch on the outside of the building so we could send back our miscalculations. Fortunately we have interns. So by promising them tenure we are able to coax them into going into the building and throwing the switch. Yes, yes I know. It is hard on the interns and we do lose the occasional bright-eyed intern in the process, but many of them do make it and are rewarded with tenure, so it’s a win-win for everybody.

Yesterday we needed some Jurassic, big time. So we donned our proximity suit, steel toed boots and blue plastic hard hat with the revolving red light on the top (RadioShack 32.95 less batteries) and set the timer for Jurassic. This is where it gets tricky. Since the Wayback machine brings forward 22 acres at a time you have a split second to decide if the particular 22 acres you’ve brought forward are safe and empty of huge things that will eat you, before you hit the Goback switch and try again. We have developed a system, again with the willing participation of some our interns, where we bring along three or four of them and space them about five yards out and twenty or thirty feet apart in a semi-circular fashion in front of the control panel. That way we have a moment to decide and then throw the Goback Switch if we have to.

Before  you get all high and mighty and give us crap about putting the interns at risk, you should know that they all are provided with Day-Glo vests, bear spray, a small stun gun for those stubborn beasts that make it through the bear spray, and fire-proof clothing. Plus they sign a waiver and know that we will ship their personal effects to their home of record free of charge.

We were lucky. We picked a place that was free of large carnivores and was filled with the perfect amount of fog and flowers and the nearly silent sound of butterfly wings in the underbrush. It was absolutely perfect for a few hours of silent contemplation before the timer on The Wayback machine rudely yanked us back to the present, or sent the present back, as it were. All in all it was a good day. We got our relaxation, the machine didn’t break down and saddle us with 22 acres of Jurassic permanently. The interns were mainly quiet for a change but I think that was mainly due to fear. The terror of the unknown has a wonderful focusing effect on the young. It was nice to see them high-fiving it after we were back. I listened with amusement as they told each other how they knew it would be cool, and there was nothing to be scared about, soiled clothing aside.

Above is an image showing just a small part of the Jurassic we brought forward. We had this image made for our archives as we rarely can ever bring the same place back twice in a row. If you ever need some Jurassic, or any other time period, we have package plans that are reasonable given the risk and the amount of power we expend in operating the Wayback machine. We had to buy a tuff-shed just to store the extra D-cells it takes to run this thing. You would need to pass a physical and sign our iron-clad waiver that legal spent months developing. But it’ll be fun. So come on out. Lets pick a time and go for it.

Update: One of our interns, a Jim Flopbot, who now resides in the early part of the eleventh century, leaked our Jurassic image from the archives. We noticed that shortly after that leaking the Butterfly pavilion in town now has a very similar place, in fact almost exactly the same, as our slice of Jurassic from the last trip.

Note to self: Change locks on archive door. Remind interns of Flopbot the intern now living as a serf in the 11th century. Figure out an explanation as to how we got Flopbot sent back when we can only bring stuff forward before someone writes us asking about it. Change the cat’s litter box. Pick up milk and jalapeño peppers. Ooops, sorry this is part of my shopping list. Please disregard.

Fog In The Meadow

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Never Happy4308

click to enlarge

The photographers eye. It’s not just the one that’s next to the other one in your face. It’s your ability to see things and capture them in away that non-photographers don’t. Recently a very good friend and great photographer, Jack Brinn, and I were on a shoot in an area of northern Colorado called Red Feather Lakes. Our plan was to walk through this meadow and capture a bloom of Mountain Iris that were at their peak when suddenly fog rolled in and changed a bright blue sky morning into something out of the Pacific northwest.

At first we thought that the shoot was over due to the varying density of the fog. Then it became apparent that not only were there still photographic opportunities, there were great photographic opportunities. So we took advantage of the change in weather to create some wonderful images.

Which brings us back to the photographer’s eye. We both noticed this scene above in particular, and made shots from almost the exact same place, but due to how each of us sees things, the images are significantly different. Not wildly so but enough that you can tell the images apart.

My attempt is the image at the top of the posting and here is a link to Jack’s images on his website so you can see the difference. http://redfeatherimages.com/p891259566#h35c93ab1

You as a discerning viewer will be affected by one or both of the images in different ways because art is a subjective thing. No matter the artists skill, you either like it or you don’t. There isn’t any right or wrong, just art. The point is, due to how we see the world around us we all interpret it in different ways. For two photographers to stand in virtually the same place and come up with two differing views is an example of how this whole art thing works.

Jack exhibited his version at a photographic society and won a much deserved award. I guess this is also an example of real talent will out itself. Congrats! Jack.

Foggy Foggy Dew

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FoggyDew0973

The other day when we were up on Mt. Evans investigating why Mountain Goats didn’t get struck by lightning we observed other baffling but explainable weather phenomenon.

Fog for one. Fog is a condition where at one moment you can see clearly as far as you want to, and the next, the air changes to a semi-solid, opaque substance that gets all around you and fogs up your glasses so you can’t see where you’re going and you stumble over the rocks and ding up your lens hood. It also makes it scary to drive when you can not see your hand in front of your face and you have drop-offs of hundreds of feet just a foot away from your wheels. Fortunately we had an intern that we made walk in front of the vehicle tapping the roadway with a stick to determine whether it was solid or not. It, the intern, also made foghorn noises at the top of his voice to warn other fools that we were on the way down. As we had only one intern on this trip we couldn’t afford to lose it so we tied a rope around him and fastened it to the bumper on the jeep and whenever he would wander off the road we could feel the rope jerk and could stop and haul him up. His foghorn noises were always noticeably louder after we hauled him up. That made us feel a little more confident and we would be nudging him forward with the front of the car as we felt better about our chances.

When the fog arrives at Mt. Evans there’s none of this “entering in on little cat feet” stuff.  No way Jose, It slams in with all the force of Bill Clinton pushing his way to the front of the line at McDonald’s. One moment you’re fat dumb and happy looking at the wonders of a clear mountain day, the next you’re wet, cold and lost in the wilderness. But that is life in the mountains, always extreme but always exciting.

The question at hand though, was, How do animals, especially Mountain Goats, handle the fog. What do they do. They don’t have running lights or any kind of internal radar our instruments could pick up. How do they manage to move around in the fog without going over the edge and falling for two days. It seemed a mystery tailor-made for The Institute.

As we were frozen in place by the fog and terminal fear we had time to closely observe the animals and found the most amazing fact. The pure white coats of the mountain goats acted as a solar collector and stored up energy to be released on their command whenever they needed it. This ability to release an energy force acted as a “Fog Dispersal Device” and would dissipate the fog for a distance of approximately three or four feet in all directions allowing them to maneuver about the mountain as if they had good sense. We stuck close to them and it saved our lives as we heard the screams of those not so lucky as they plummeted past on their way to oblivion. Eventually this pair of mountain goats, a mother and her kid, led us back to the parking lot where they happily licked our Jeep’s tires for the salt remaining on them. It seemed a small price to pay for our safe return.

If you look closely at the image above you will notice that the fog around them is dispersed to a distance of several feet allowing them to comfortably forage as they slowly wended their way back to the parking lot. This ability is what keeps the mountain goats fed and safe as they wander around places that are extremely hazardous to humans. The glow they emit is subtle but effective. As the fog would ebb and flow you could see other little bubbles of light, sort of like fireflies, blinking on and off as various small groups moved around the mountain completing their daily chores.

There must be some expenditure of energy to produce this phenomenon as they didn’t keep the lights on constantly. Maybe they were part of some larger co-op that charged them according to the power they used. Or it worked like your cell phone and if they weren’t careful they’d zero out and be without lights just when they needed them most and they’d be stuck in place until the sun appeared again and they could recharge. We saw evidence of rationing this ability as you can see in the image below.

FoggyDew2_0987

Here is a goat with the Fog Dispersal Device turned off. Notice that there is no glow around it and the fog has completely encased it. This goat is here for the duration if he squandered his usage. It could be that he’s also eaten his fill and is using this down time to catch up on things. Check his email, have a latte, or just people watch. Whatever the reason it clearly shows lights on, lights off, and although we need more time to study all the ramifications of this ability I believe we have pretty much figured it out.

As you can tell by the fact of this posting we made it down the mountain safely although our intern’s hair turned white. We could laugh about it as we applied a natural herb salve to his rope burns, and decided we would schedule another trip to observe this phenomenon more closely the next time fog was scheduled. We would bring more interns too.

Little Cat Feet

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LittleCatFeet027click to enlarge

When Mr. Sandburg was writing about fog coming in on little cat feet he had obviously never been to where I live. When we get fog, which is not all that often, there’s no little cat feet involved. It comes in like a freight train and slams into your house like a kid home from college. It doesn’t care if you’re rich or poor, what your politics are or whether you like Jesus, you’re going to get treated like all the rest which is total involvement on your part. There’s no sitting this one out around here.

One thing about the mountains, we don’t get little weather. We get big weather. Some might argue the fact that sometimes it tries to rain a little but doesn’t quite get the job done, or clouds might build up and pretend to look threatening, but that’s not weather, that’s just meteorological foreplay. When the real deal hits, you know it. If you want a real rush come stand on the deck here while a thunder and lightning storm rolls through the valley at tree top-level, or when our wind will kick up and hit 80-90 mph on the wind gauge, that’s when the weather comes right into your soul and you become part of it. It’s a test of will power to see how long you can immerse yourself in it before you have to give up and run into the safety of the house like a frightened school child. There’s no shame in that folks, this can be some scary, scary stuff, but man, what a rush.

Mountain living can be the best of times or the worst, but it is rarely boring. That old adage about ‘If you don’t like the weather wait 5 minutes and it will change’ is not true. Actually the span is about 3 1/2 to 28 minutes, maybe a little more if its going to be the storm of the century, those seem to come around every two or three years. People tend to live in the mountains because everything that happens here seems to fit the scale of the mountains. Big, larger than life and it is never the same, but then why would you want it to be.

Sleepy-eyed Doe

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Watching from the morning mist

Atmosphere is something we all try to make happen in our images when we get a chance. You need the right conditions and of course the light has to be perfect. Fog or mist or even very subdued lighting due to clouds or other weather conditions are a necessary part of creating this effect. But what can be the most important element of all is that serendipitous event that cannot be planned. That special surprise that happens just because you got lucky. While in Rocky Mountain National Park shooting elk one morning I felt something watching me from behind. I turned and found this mule deer doe staring at me from out of the morning mist. There was no wind, the ground was wet from all the moisture in the air and even the birds hadn’t awakened yet. Everything was whisper quiet. After my taking a few quick shots she soundlessly backed into the brush and disappeared. This is one of those straight out of the camera shots that needed no post processing in Photoshop. What I saw is what you get. This shot is absolutely gorgeous as a large print.