A Little Color on a Gray Day

After two weeks of glorious sunshine it finally happened: the mostly cloudy skies of the northwest made a comeback. I had hoped to go hiking in the Columbia River Gorge this weekend, but when the idea is to take pictures of Mt. Hood, Mt. Adams, etc. there's no point in trying if not even the sun is visible. So, to keep myself from grumbling about the weather too much (and those few sprinkles of rain this morning didn't help),

I went exploring amongst a few of the very colorful neighborhoods on the edge of downtown Portland. When I say colorful I mean just that. Many of these homes were built in the late 1800's and the exteriors range from several shades of blue, to yellows, browns, reds, purples, and everything in between.  A plain ol' gray or white house would stand out like a sore thumb in this area. The goal was to find flowers within a reasonable range of a brightly painted house and get a picture of the flower with the house as the backdrop. I was prepared to employ whatever methods necessary whether they be contortion, standing on my head, or holding my eyebrows just right. I was lucky in that the recent heatwave (90 something is considered a heatwave, especially when it lasts all of, gasp, a week or 10 days) didn't melt the roses, which made up the majority of what was blooming. Although, there were some lovely gladiolas hanging around just begging for their picture to be taken. The biggest problem was avoiding things like gutters (and cars) or finding something to stand on to get just the right angle. There were some lovely blooms I just couldn't use because a picture of roses in front of a window or house numbers just doesn't do anything for me. One house in particular caught my attention. The house itself was almost cobalt blue and the trim was a cross between rust and red. I really had to work at finding an angle where the roses were in front of the house and avoid the other foliage growing around them.

It wasn't until I looked closer that I could see that the buds were wrapped in spider webs. I guess no one thinks about dusting real flowers, only the silk ones. There were also some hydrangeas that wanted to get into the act. I had to do a bit of cropping to get rid of the gutter. I mean a blue gutter is better than a regular one, but it's still a gutter. The rosebud in front of the lattice work is actually quite some distance from the house. I've wanted to take pictures of roses in front of this house before but they've always been all dried up or just consisted of one pitiful petal so I didn't bother. Nothing was blooming next to the house this time either so I experimented with what was growing near the curb. 

Finally, one of my favorite houses has this extremely colorful staircase leading up to the front porch. After visiting this neighborhood several times in the last few years, I've decided if I ever own a house it will need to be at least three colors and be surrounded by flowers. And yes,  I know the pictures are in a wonkier than usual arrangement but to preserve my sanity I let the computer win. No matter what I tried they either wouldn't move or moved where I didn't want them. And now that the sun has finally come out to play, I really want to go outside!

Evening Strolls and Afternoon Rambles

It seems you just never know what is going to be around the corner, even when in a familiar area.  I've been grounded from running for the last few months due to some injuries so the camera has been an even more constant companion.  Now that summer is finally here (well, mostly here), I've been enjoying an evening stroll after work.  Last week while walking in a different neighborhood, I passed a Buick. Wildcat that had seen better days  I'm a sucker for old cars. I can't imagine anything we drive now becoming a classic in 40 years (who would want a 40 year old Prius?), but then maybe that's what people said back in the 1950's and 60's. Despite the rust and peeling paint, this old Wildcat still had that muscle car attitude.

Earlier last week week, I was in a different neighborhood enjoying the evening twilight (it is nice to have long summer evenings, it makes up for the 4:00 p.m. darkness in the winter) and was struck by the way the sun was bouncing off this upturned rose.  It was rather like a spotlight shining on the lead character on stage in an empty theater. Fortunately, the effect lasted long enough for me to fiddle with the manual exposure on my camera. It's almost impossible (well for me anyway) to take a picture right the first time. If something happens quickly I might as well not even try for a shot, or else be satisfied with something so overexposed it's unrecognizable or a totally black screen.  Good thing roses are not prone to sudden movements.

Near downtown Portland there are rows of older homes that ooze character and charm.  It's difficult to take a picture that encompasses the entire house because they tend to be very near the sidewalk and then there is the matter of the trees looming over everything. If you want a picture of tree limbs and maybe a bit of roof line, you've come to the right place. I've learned to just take pictures of one or two aspects of the house, something that sets it apart from the others. This is a good example, I mean how many houses have yellow and purple stair railings?

Probably one of the more unusual things I've come across was the railroad castle. It's not every day you walk along the road in Vancouver, Washington and come across a castle sitting near the railroad tracks, or near anything else for that matter. And there wasn't just a castle (but wait, there's more!). There was a small pond nearby and what appeared to be a mill house perching on the edge of the water. This of course was a photo op not easily passed up. The sun was not in an optimal place for taking pictures, although here in Portland anytime the sun is out we consider that optimal, but with a little bobbing and weaving I managed to get some shots that weren't totally bleached out.

The main purpose I had in walking along this particular road was to get a picture of Mt. Hood from the river. According to Google maps, and we know it's always accurate, there was a good view of Mt. Hood at the end of a street that ran right to the water's edge. The only problem was there was no mention of the chain link fence that all but blocked the view. Once again, with a little focusing and zooming, and holding my left eyebrow just right, I managed to get some pictures that were something like what I had in mind and had more mountain in them than chain link. If I'd known that part of taking pictures was being able to contort into all sorts of shapes, I'd have paid more attention in ballet class.

Friday Afternoon Adventures

Adventure is a rather ambiguous term. For some people it can be hoofing it through a crosswalk while the red hand is flashing a warning and for others it's skydiving. For the most part, my idea of adventure is heading off in search of good photos in unfamiliar areas and seeing what happens next. Not sky diving but at least a couple of notches above sprinting through crosswalks.

My employer offers a summer schedule from Memorial Day to Labor Day. By working a little bit extra Monday through Thursday I am able to leave at 12:30 on Fridays. It's almost like having a three-day weekend all summer (not too shabby as a college friend used to say). Through the month of June the typical schedule is a quick lunch and then driving up to Vancouver, Washington before the 5:00 rush hour traffic, which on Fridays starts around 10:00 a.m. I have managed to cram the 19-mile trip into two hours but generally it's only about 45 minutes to an hour in slower moving traffic. The reason for making this trek each Friday (besides the photo ops) is the chance to take part in a Scottish Country Dance class that takes place farther out in the Columbia River Gorge, in the town of Stevenson, Washington. I meet up with a carpool in Vancouver around 6:00 and we drive out, have class, and get back around 10:00 p.m. It's a long day but worth it. So, all that to say I usually have about two to two and one-half hours to explore the area and look for photo-worthy sights.

Notice the blackberries

Clear days between January and July 4 are way too few and far between for this former desert rat. Every week when I drive up north I can't wait to see if Mt. Hood will be visible from the bridge that crosses the Columbia River. Finally, this week most of the mountain was visible. Driving across a smaller arm of the river, I noticed the marina was especially colorful with the mountain in the background and all the houseboats seemingly clustered around its base. After parking my car I started the long walk back across the bridge and headed towards the marina. Imagine my dismay when I saw a sign that said "Pedestrians Prohibited" posted on the bike path. I must admit to being a bit miffed. After all, bikes go absolutely everywhere in Portland, even where they shouldn't in my humble opinion. Surely one pedestrian wasn't going to gum up the works. But, being the usually law-abiding citizen that I am (and knowing people get tickets for offenses as minor as jay walking) I turned back to see if there was another way to get the same shot of the houseboats and Mt. Hood. I found a park near the water's edge and made my way down a steep hill covered with blackberry bushes (I have the scratches on my legs to prove it). I was pleased with the photos shown above, but they weren't quite what I had in mind.

As I turned around to leave the park I saw a woman coming toward me pushing a wheelbarrow. I asked her if she knew of another way to get a shot of the houseboats and Mt. Hood without going on the bike path. She didn't but was sure someone in one of the nearby stores could tell me. She herself was an artist and had painted the scene. She lived in one of the houseboats and I was really hoping she would offer to show me her work and I could snap a photo from her houseboat. No offer was made so I trooped back up the way I had come. I went across the street to a Chevron station to ask someone there if they knew about the bike path.

One of the attendants (in Oregon it's illegal to pump your own gas), a tall man with longish hair and a gap-toothed grin, spoke to me as I came up, noting that I had made a big loop around the area. I asked him about the no pedestrian sign and if it was a serious no trespassing sign or just a cautionary kind of sign. He said pedestrians were always using the path and it wasn't a problem. I thought to myself as I left "yes, but are you sure, I mean you have no teeth," but he seemed like a nice guy so I figured I would give it a shot. As I neared the beginning of the path, I decided the sign was intended for the freeway entrance on the other side of the bike path. And, even if that wasn't the case, it would make a good defense if the need arose. I was very glad I talked to the man at the station because the shots with the houseboats and the mountain were exactly what I was looking for in my afternoon quest.

After taking at least 100 pictures, probably only a slight exaggeration, I headed back across the bridge and to my car. Along the way, the orange poppies and the sailboats caught my eye. Fortunately, there were a lot of boats because I had to fuss so much with the shutter speed and aperture that by the time I was ready for it, the boat had moved out of range and I had to wait for the next one to come along. 

This completed the first phase of my picture outing and it was time to move onto the second part. I parked on a residential street and headed off to look for unsuspecting flowers to pounce on and add to my growing collection of closeups. I wasn't disappointed. Roses are always a favorite and the bluebells in the next block were posing up a storm so I had to take their pictures too. All in all, it was another successful adventure and one which I hope to repeat for the next few weeks.