The Steppes of Sonoma

Country roads wind amidst February meadows,
yellow mustard blossoms carpet the green,
rolling hills as far as the eye can see,
with vineyards and farmhouses dotting the scene.

Such is the magic of the Sonoma county as it turns a new leaf in spring.

Reading the tragic news about the wildfire ravaging through Napa and Sonoma valleys, leading to unprejudiced destruction of forests and communities alike harkened me back to a time when I was driving through this beautiful countryside after it had put on its spring coat. I can't imagine what it would be like to live through such a calamitous event that affected the lives of many.

I hope that this pastoral landscape and the thriving community that got affected recover quickly. You can do your part by donating to those affected by the fire https://www.gofundme.com/napa-sonoma-fires or http://www.sonomacf.org/sonoma-county-resilience-fund/

Petulama
CA USA

The Two Towers

There is a place in the US that is called Monument Valley, enshrined in the minds of many as what the American West looks like. It may seen implausible, but until you get to that valley in the Four Corners Area of the lower 48, clustered with vast sandstone buttes towering towards the sky, you won't get to realize why.

I stood in the heart of Monument Valley one night, watching in awe at the night sky in utter darkness. In front of me, the bright band of the Milky Way rose, a tower light light marching towards eternal darkness, eclipsing the silhouettes of all other sandstone buttes. The sky was a glittering carpet, with far more stars visible than the average wilderness, thanks to the atmospherics of this isolated place. I watched satellites crawl on the canvas of stars, shooting stars scintillate for a fleeting instance, and the slow march of the stars around the Pole. I was lost in time and space.

Every time I look back at the photos, my memories flash back to that cool evening, tramping over rocks and avoiding cacti, and trying to catch that jewel-like night sky. This one was captured at ISO 3200, at F4 for 30s

Monument Valley Navajo Monument
AZ USA

A Forest visit

In the silence, I could hear every twig on my feet, every rustle on the leaf, every squawk by a squirrel, every flutter by a bird, and every beam of sunlight that scintillated through the trees. I stopped, hoping to capture silence, while a minute passed by, and then a few more. I lost track of time as I stood in awe of the dense forest with its mossy green trunks and lush vegetation covering every square inch all around.

It was a late morning in the heart of Olympics National Park, and I was making my way through a temperate rain-forest that is ubiquitous in the eastern lowlands of the park. The yellow sunlight (courtesy of a forest-fire somewhere) lent a warm quality to the green vegetation, making the foliage appear ever so photogenic. I scouted around for a few choice compositions, but the heavy pack and the fact that others in my group were waiting for me to catch up meant that I had to be quick about it. I finally lined up one composition with the sunlight peering through the trees for a starburst effect, which I captured at ISO 3200, 1/5s at F18

Olympic National Park
WA USA

Last light in Titcomb Basin

When I crossed the final set of boulders and crested the saddle on the trail, the entire basin opened up, and I knew at once that what I was seeing was special. A rocky treeless basin that was seemingly endless, filled with two long glistening blue alpine lakes, and lined by jagged peaks on either side, greeted my eyes. The photos that I had seen of this hidden backpacking destination were nothing compared to the splendor of soaking in this beautiful scene

It had been a cloudy second day deep within the Wind River range, a glacier-scoured rugged mountain range in the western Wyoming. The freezing rains and cloudy weather had sucked away from the photogenicity of the wilderness, and I was slowly losing my patience. But that evening, my patience was rewarded, as a break in the clouds resulted in the pinnacles catching one last breath of orange light during the last minutes of the day.

I wish I had been better prepared with a suitable foreground, but as a photographer knows, light doesn't wait for anyone. So I composed this one shot that captured the beautiful alpen glow and the last light on the clouds in the Titcomb basin of Bridger-Teton Wilderness. This was captured at F11 at 1/4s and ISO 200

Titcomb Basin
WY USA

In Memory

I could write a paragraph on the beauty of the Dolomites scene I was photographing, or a discourse into the challenges I faced in reaching this point in the heart of the mountains, but words escape me at this point.

It has been a difficult month for the nation. Between the devastating weather systems that ravaged Puerto Rico and the Caribbean and ripping apart the islands' infrastructure, and the shootings in Las Vegas that had taken away 59 innocent lives and injuring countless more, it has been through a lot.

While scores of lives have been (and continue to be) affected, it is the lack of a cohesive response to any of these crises that continues to alarm me. It is either too difficult or too early or too late to talk about the underlying issues that resulted in a solvable calamity turning into a crisis.

Strong leadership is something that is certainly amiss in these difficult times, as what the nation has is a talking egotistical pumpkin-head (apologies to the pumpkins) that cares more about popularity than problem-solving, and lacks the basic empathic skills that one would think is required to lead.

In memory of those who have been affected by crises all over the world....

Lagazuoi
Cortina Italy

Glaciated Blues

My visions for the Canadian Rockies comprised of grand glacial-blue lakes guarded by towering snow-capped peaks lined by massive glaciers, and a layer of evergreen forest carpeting the landscape below. And from the air, it most certainly looked like that. However, it was not until I explored the various lakes nestled deep within the glaciated valleys that I got to realize those visions.

Perhaps the most characteristic of these lakes is the Moraine Lake, set in one such valley just south of Lake Louise. From the shore, the look looked unremarkable, similar to the other lakes in the area. But after climbing up to get the aerial perspective, I got to see the true colors of the landscape it was surrounded by, with the grey skies enhancing the muted colors of the scene.

Despite the throngs of crowds visiting that lake, I still had felt solace and a sense of belonging to this beautiful naturescape. The craggy peaks, the vast carpet of green surrounding the azure blue lake, and the fresh scent of mountain air rejuvenated my senses, and I, for one, was better for it.

This was shot with a graduated ND filter at F/11 and 1/200s at ISO 800

Moraine Lake
AB Canada

Inhospitable Morocco

The winds were relentless and the trail had disappeared into scree, but the views were just endless

I was hiking high above the Dades river valley, deep within the Atlas mountain range, the spine of Morocco. I had started out huffing and puffing in the warm late afternoon sun, but a few hundred feet up, the cold gusts of winds from the snow-capped peaks absorbed all my surface moisture, chilling me to the bone. But the views were just getting better, and that prodded me on.

And finally, the vista of the beautiful Dades river valley finally opened up. Tiny fields lay beside a meandering river, with red brick houses of a small village scattered along the steep slopes of the canyon the river had cut through. In the distance, the river disappeared through a narrow gorge it cut downstream on its way to the Atlantic, while the backdrop of a long line of snow-capped peaks reminded me that winter was not yet over in this high desert.

This is one exposure from that vista point, shot at 1/500s at ISO 800 at F11.

Dades Gorge
Morocco

The Grand Library

The faint yet melodious serenade of a cello wafted through the centuries-old ruins. I continued along the old stone path, with wheel ruts still in place, passing by dilapidated yet artfully restored structures - houses, shops, markets, baths, and even an occasional amphitheater. Yet, as I turned around the corner and came to face the beautiful facade of the Library of Celsus, I was taken aback.

I stared at the grand entrance of the library for a long time, slowly savoring the beautiful marble columns, the ornate roofs, the festooned walls, and the realistic statues of ancient Greek gods and goddesses. And right below this entrance, on the steps, sat a cello player crafting tunes for the weary travelers who passed through the long Roman road in front of him.

It harkened me back 2000 years, to the time when this beautiful facade, and the library behind it, was constructed. I could imagine a busy street carrying traffic from one city entrance, past grand villas and crowded amphitheaters, passing in front of the library to reach the great Agora (marketplace) to peddle their wares. And behind those three doors would have been one of the best collection of scrolls and books, making it the third largest library of the 2nd century AD. While the rest of the library had been razed, the facade alone stands, having been painfully restored in the 1960s.

I tried to capture some of its ancient aura, but the camera could only do so much justice. This was shot at F22 (for the sun-star), ISO 800 at 1/50s

Ephesus
Turkey

The Final Resting Place

It was late afternoon, and I found myself wandering through a leafy green park, with landscaped gardens intersected by wide avenues, and with refreshing fountains to cool down the summer air. In-between all this stood a dusty nondescript tomb with no adornments or colorless. And after having spent the entire day gazing at monumental mosques and madrasas that had been beautifully restored to their former glories, this tiny tomb felt bare. And only the intricate patterns on the walls belied what was inside.

For what I was staring at was the 9th century Samanid Mausoleum, one of the most highly esteemed work of Central Asian Islamic architecture, having constructed even before Genghis Khan had ravaged this place. Since Sunni Islam prohibited construction of mausoleums, the fact that this one was constructed stresses the prominence of Ismail Samani, the ruler of the Samanid dynasty in that era.

As I entered inside, the warm afternoon sunlight streaming through the brickwork window formed a beautiful checkered pattern on the floor, and that lent a yellow ambience that highlighted the intricate geometric patterns that festooned the walls, archways, and the domed ceiling. In one corner stood the rather unremarkable tomb dedicated to the great ruler Ismail Samani.

I tried to capture the aura of magnificence, but the camera can only go so far. This was shot at F11 at ISO-800 at 1/8s

Bukhara
Uzbekistan

Finding Zen

I was seeking a place of silence, a moment of zen. But I was certainly at the wrong place and the wrong time for it.

I had landed in Japan the night earlier, right in the peak of its Golden week, when so many Japanese travel locally that even Shinkansens speed along with standing room only. I had made it to Kanazawa, on the western side of Honshu, and just like the capital city of Tokyo, Kanazawa was crowded as well. And to be able to find that solace in the thronging city of half a million would be a challenge by itself.

I was naturally drawn to the beautiful Kenroku-en gardens, hoping that a spot of greenery would provide respite in the concrete jungle. And after wandering around its narrow pathways with lush vegetation, mossy rocks and beautiful spring blossoms, I chanced upon a tiny pond, an archetype of a classical Japanese garden, replete with manicured vegetation, elegant cypress trees, a rustic stone lantern, and the gentle gurgle of a quaint waterfall. And I knew that at that moment, I had found my zen, and I just sat there, soaking in this lush scene hoping that it would never end.

But it eventually did, and before leaving, I captured this scene at F9, ISO 800, 1/125s

Kanazawa
Ishikawa Prefecture, Japan