Seneca Creek Distance

Spider Web

Autumn Wide

The Rewards of Sleeping Late

Seneca Creek Cathedral

Downstream

Little Falls of Seneca Creek

Red Blue Green

Powerplant by Night

Fairy Pitcher Plants

Autumn in Otter Creek

Canaan Night

Delicate Weed

Hazy Autumn Spruce

Natural Bacteria Art

Here is some description.

Smooth and Yellow

Big Stonecoal Falls II

Red Creek Falls

Lindy's Run Trail

Iced Trees

West Virginia Fungus

Quiet Autumn Snow

Roaring Plains in Orange

Circular Flow

Pointy Knob Cascade

Dobbins Slashings

Blackwater River from Camp 70

Singing Moon

Shale Creek Bend

I scrambled up the steep shale slope overlooking the bend in the creek. For each step forward, I fell back a half-step. Tripod in one hand, camera dangling under the arm of the other–don't lose momentum or I'll slide all the way back down. I got to the top of the shale slope. Two paces to the left and I topple into the creek forty feet below. Three paces to the right and I slide into trees and brambles covering the steep hillside.

This damp cathedral, nestled in the highlands of West Virginia, was constantly babbling with the song of flowing water. Rhododendrons guarded the entrance to Shale Creek Bend. Someday I need to get on top of the cliff, but it also be guarded by densely intertwined branches of Rhododendrons, so dense that I might walk off the edge without even seeing the ground fall off beneath me.

Milkweed Blossom

Bees were swarming on the sticky milkweed blossoms. The flies were crawling on the broad variegated leaves. The blossom globes were at their height. I am not sure I had ever really seen blossoms of milkweed. Perhaps that year was a particularly good one for milkweed, but the perfect spheres of milkweed blossoms were unlike anything I had seen before. Milkweed–even the name suggests a low-born plant, but even an ordinary plant can make beautiful blossoms.

Foggy Sods in Morning

We got up at 4:00 am on Sunday morning. Kara looked at me incredulously. "How did I get talked into getting up at this hour?" We ate some breakfast and headed out. At 5:15 am we arrived at the trailhead, ready to set out on our hike. As Kara reluctantly clicked on her headlamp she asked, "Why are we hiking out in the pitch dark of morning?" 5:45 am, we start hiking up the steep rocky part of the trail. It is still pitch dark down in the woods. 6:15 am, as we break out onto the ridge, a pinky-orange glow starts to silhoutte the trees on the horizon. 6:45 am, the sun breaks above the horizon in a simple and rapturous sunrise. 6:53 am, the elements of this panoramic were captured. 5:01 pm on Monday, the crop above is made from the panoramic pieces--the rapturous sunrise continues... .

Canaan Mountain Winter

The wind and snow were swirling like a banshee up on Canaan Mountain. We skied along the mountaintop as the snow accumulated on our shoulders and in our hair. I stopped to make this image. In the five minutes it took to capture the images that compose this print, I frequently had to brush snow accumulation off the top of the camera, but I didn't need to worry about the camera getting wet, it was about 15 degrees F.

Highlands from Olson Tower

You just never know what a day or weekend will bring. The sky in this image is a gift that I couldn't ever imagine repaying. Days like these expand your lungs, creating a dizzying sensation that I interpret as the intoxication of a spring day. The rolling, green hills of the West Virginia highlands create a mottled texture that looks like plush carpeting for giants who live in the clouds.

Roundtop Skier

Yes, the skier in this picture is shown three times. The ability to repeat the same subjects in panoramics is both a curse and a blessing. On this snowy day, we were hunkered down in a shelter watching a few hardy souls glide through the meadow with the dark trees as a background. I think my favorite quality of this image is the densely intersecting branches of the background giving the image a slightly dark and foreboding feel.

Dry Summer Creek

Scrambling around in creeks is something I have done since I was a little boy. I always ended up coming home with wet, muddy shoes and pants. As an adult, the allure of a mountain stream is no less enticing. You might imagine me merrily hopping from rock to rock as I hold my arms out to balance myself from putting a boot down in the water, but actually, you need to add a tripod and camera to that picture. The camera is swinging under my left arm. The tripod is held out to the right to balance myself. This dry, little creek presented wonderful colors and two tiny, little waterfalls that are almost as precious to the child within as the most spectacular raging waterfall.

This image is probably one of the best examples of what I call a Panoramic Landscape Vignette. You can drag your hand across the textures of the rocks, smell the leaves, and even feel the cool water in the air. In this little vignette, you are encouraged to take a seat and enjoy the little pleasures of nature.

Old Snow Winter Trees

Along the Blackwater River in the Canaan Valley National Wildlife Refuge, there is this trail that meanders among the riverside trees and boulders. In the winter, this trail is perfect for snowshoeing and cross-country skiing. On this warm, winter day, the sun was settling low in the sky melting intricate patterns into the snow and casting long shadows with the tree-trunks. The texture of the bark on the trees and the snow on the ground gave this image a warmth and accesibility that is unexpected for a cold snowy scene. You can almost instinctively sense how easily the snow would ball-up for making snowballs or a snowman.

Gnarled Trees

The Highlands of West Virginia are generally cooler than other areas in the region, usually by 10 degrees or so, but the humidity can certainly be high. On the day that Gnarled Trees was made, the humidity was stifling. We stopped along Big Stoncoal Creek, to purify more water for the rest of our hike when I saw this lush scene of gnarled roots and soft moss. So, this image was made while standing on a small rock in the middle of a stream. I think one of the greatest pleasures of this image is seeing so many indigenous plants in one image: Red Spruce, Rhododendron, Moss, etc...

Highland Creek

If I were to identify one photo that most clearly demonstrates the idea of panoramic landscape vignettes, Highland Creek would have to be it. Standing in front of this large image allows you to see the pebbles, dirt, leaves, twigs, and water that make a stream a living part of the wilderness. This image was made one autumn day when nasty rain was threatening. We were too tired to really undertake any significant hike with rain threatening, so we drove around and took pictures. While I took this photo, the dog waited patiently in the back of the car, and Kara sat and read on a nearby rock. I probably spent 30 minutes at this spot, making several images.

Bald Knob Kissed By Winter

This was the panoramic image that got the ball rolling for me. I recall hiking on an early January day. I was disappointed at the lack of snow for backcountry skiing, so I contented myself with shooting photographs of the early winter dusting of snow. I spent 15 minutes and about 30 frames photographing a cute little pine tree that had been windbeaten over the years. When I was done, I turned around and rapidly--without thinking too much--snapped 7 images in succession for this panoramic. When I got home I was speechless. The image was beautiful. This image was the first wide format panoramic that I felt could be considered Fine Art. I still take pride in this image even while my technique making panoramics has evolved. It just goes to show that photography, and art, is as much about emotion as technique. Here is what I wrote shortly after taking the picture.

Tall Pine Undergrowth

When pine forests have grown in the same place for generations, the soil gets so acidic that only a few other plants can tolerate the conditions. The inhospitable soil coupled with the deep shade from the pine canopy can leave the understory fairly open. In this image, the early, summer morning is giving way to hazy humidity that even settles over the highlands of West Virginia. The last minutes of angled light draw shallow shadows on the needle-covered ground.