In the Northwest bay of Lake of the Isles is a Sea Serpent. Not just any serpent, this one is a regular. Ever since I moved to Uptown, I noticed that someone builds this serpent in the same place every year. A few weeks ago I actually caught the builder at work. Bob Flick lives near by and he has been building it since the 70s. His son used to help, but has since moved away. But Bob still gets down there every year and builds this local winter landmark. Thanks Bob!
This scene looks so quiet and empty, but that’s only an illusion and far from the truth. There were hundreds of skiers shuffling through, with a 30 second exposure, they disappear into the night. If you look closely (click to enlarge image) you will see odd ghosts of people in the middle.
The fun effect of a long exposure is that only the things that don’t move get caught. There were hundreds of skiers shuffling past and under the bridge, but the little gathering held still for me. Also, you can see Matt and Dusty taking flash photos on the right. What are they shooting? Check out tomorrow’s post to see the view. Oh, by the way, yes, I did ask Matt where his tripod was.
Ice campfires defend the shores of Lake of the Isles in Uptown.
This past Saturday, Dusty, SnapShutter, Ravsitar and I spend a long cold evening photographing the unusual Minneapolis event known as the Luminary Loppet. This next series is from what was called the Enchanted Forest and was created by Jennifer of Ice Lanterns. It was created on the peninsula by the Northwest bay of Lake of the Isles.
In the blue shadows of the trees, hidden from the low winter sun, the weathered lifeboat dreams of warmer days.
A bridge is defined by the nothingness under it.
On one of my safaris across the lake I encountered this pair just sitting in the middle of the lake. Not fishing, just sitting. Nothing going on, no kite boarders, nothing really at all. I switched to my long lens to drag the shoreline in and moved to position the sun to catch the glint of the ice.
Just as I was ready to shoot, the one got up to take a picture of the other. The spectators themselves became the spectacle and they knew it too.
In the instant of the open shutter, when I’m actually working and intentionally doing nothing at the same time; the true photographic moment of zen, I called all three of us into question.
