We decided to take a walk around our neighborhood hills and orchards yesterday. We discovered that our spring irrigation water had been turned on and had reached the ditch above our home. It is time to start our spring watering cycle. As I’ve mentioned before, this ditch was constructed and put in use in the 1880’s. This is one of the few open areas still remaining. The area directly above our house has an old wood flume. I am looking at it right now from my office as I type this post. It will be replaced by an underground pipe in the next few years. I will be sad to see the trace of our past removed.
The path in front of us may seem daunting. It is dark, winding and uncertain. We have a long way to travel, but there is light ahead. There is a path, we must all pull together, keep our faith, and help each other remain on it. Falling off the path is not an option if we are to reach the light.
The peak of the pandemic is a few weeks ahead. Maintaining our social distance from each other is critical to minimizing the size of the peak. Let’s all stay on the path!
This image is another perspective of the photograph in my prior post. It is also an infrared (IR) image, but processed in black and white. This is typically how I handle infrared images focusing on the contrasts of dark sky and light clouds and foliage from the trees.
A positive ramification of our “stay at home” order is that I can spend a good part of my day working on my photography skills. I enjoy experimenting with different methodologies to create moods and feelings. One of my next endeavors will be to combine IR and long exposure photography into B&W images. Rather than facing each day and thinking about what I cannot do, I much prefer to envision what I can do. It is a time to explore, examine new things, experiment, and learn. I really do not have time to think about what I can’t do.
“For the eyes of the world now look into space, to the moon, and to the planets beyond and we have vowed that we shall not see it governed by a hostile flag of conquest, but by a banner of freedom and peace.”
John F. Kennedy
Six years can make a tremendous difference. When I visited Kennedy Space Center (KSC) in 2014, the attitude of many of the KSC employees was very negative. President Obama had recently cut significant funding for NASA and the Space Program. The Administration was pushing for commercial ventures to move the Space Program forward. Severe cutbacks were being made across the Program. Many KSC employees did not see a future ahead for them.
This March during our visit to KSC, things seemed quite different. There was a a flurry of activity preparing for future launches. International commercial joint ventures had taken over the responsibility for commercial launches. Programs are being put in place to return to the Moon and to launch manned space flights to Mars. Global governmental and private entities are binding together to tackle this venture. Funding is being provided by private, commercial, and governmental sources.
Where have I been? I am embarrassed to say, but my eyes have been closed to news regarding the International Space Program for years. I was totally taken back to the level of activity going on. It made me want to put my childhood “Space Cadet Wings” back on. Kennedy’s vision is moving forward!
Just check NASA’s web site for what is going on!
While the interior of the little “Painted Church” is lavishly colorful, the exterior is a simple white structure. I could feel the history surrounding the church through it’s old, but well maintained, grave yard and gardens. It is a beautiful and peaceful site on the gentle sloping sides of Moana Loa.
The last time I was here I hiked down to the base of these cliffs and looked up the Palolu Valley to the south. Waipi’o Valley is in the distance. This trip I did not make the trek down to the bottom.
On previous trips, my interest focused on the bay directly below and closer. The above ridges were in the distant background. This time the ridges caught my eye. I zoomed out to 400m to isolate them.
For reference, the photo below represents my previous focus.
As seen, this is quite a different perspective. It pays to return to special places and keep an open mind to see new things.
This tree has an unseen story to tell. The photographer did not step back to include the rest of the story. On the tree’s left is the Little Blue Church. On its right is an ancient Hawaiian heiau.
Here I stand, catching the evening’s last light,
Spreading it gently to the souls of the present on my left,
And to the ancient spirits of the past on my right
Lesson Learned: I need to take my time to contemplate what I am seeing and feeling, then raise my camera to record the story. I should have used a wide-angle perspective to include the church and the heiau. Always learning …
Just to the north of the “Little Blue Church” is the remnant of an ancient Hawaiian heiau (temple). I came to see the church, but my interest quickly turned to the adjacent heiau. How long ago did the ancient peoples worship on this ground? Was it in use when Cook first landed on the island just a few miles south of here? What do these protruding wood branches and line represent? So many questions …
This little church was built in 1888 next to an ancient Hawaiian heiou. It is currently a Catholic mission and holding Sunday services.
When I drove past the church, it was late afternoon. The front of the church was in deep shadows. The sun glare dominated the background as it reflected off the ocean. It was a great opportunity for a B&W photograph.
Silent and serene the little church stood
against the brilliant glow from above.
What history does it have to tell?
You can’t get any further south in the United States than this. The southern tip of the big island of Hawai’i is the most southern point of our country. I guess you can consider it the deep, deep South.
This image is the second of a series of Black and White photographs that I will post from my recent trip to the Big Island. In each of these images, I purposefully took my time to try to catch a specific moment and/or composition. Each one had a specific intent when I began the process of recording what my eyes were seeing or what my mind was feeling.
I stood and watched this boy for several moments before I put my camera to my eye. I could have just stood and watched much longer as he patiently cast out and reeled in his line, repeating the process over and over. Each time he cast out, I was hoping that a fish would take the bait. What a a glorious way to spend a late afternoon!