Woolen Mill Studio

May 24, 2015



My final assignment was to make a book with the pictures taken during the course.  I settled on my favorite picture subject – wood barns.


At lunch with nephews and nieces I shared the completed project.  My niece started oohhing and auughing over the barn pic’s and asked me how I got all the pictures.  I explained that we like to drive the country roads on the weekend looking for barns.  Almost on cue, she let out this coo – the notion to her was ‘how romantic’.  My wife quickly piped up and set the record straight with a “well then you go with him” noting the process of trolling the back roads was anything but romantic.


Admittedly, there is the long drive down endless dusty gravel roads, the craning of necks as you do a slow drive by looking for what the photographer’s eye looks for.  “Hey, look at that – lean, glare – nope nothing here”.  Dust is caking on the car and the air filter is begging for some asphalt and clean air.  The engine temperature needle quivers even on a cold day.  And then you see it – off to your left.  There is the long stare as I drive by -- the finished picture playing out in my mind (let’s see I’ll tweak the colors and crop that out, etc.).


For reasons unknown I keep driving about a mile or two down the road until I utter the dreaded “I gotta go back”.  It’s a setback for anyone hoping to get back home at a decent hour.  The car slows, the blinker is clicking. The turnaround maneuver is initiated and I’m heading back for the picture.  At a safe off the road spot I park the car and with camera (and now tripod for the HDR pic) in hand I’m out the door prepared if necessary to walk through the tall grass (listening for sounds like a low grade rattle).  Click, click, click, change settings, click, click, click, change the lens settings, click, click, click.  Back in the car there is the quick review of the images taken (no sense driving back when you can re-shoot a bad image while there).  Back on the road the above is repeated until someone's stomach or mood starts to growl.


Now, wasn't that romantic!


 "Most of my best memories come from some old dirt road." - Author Unknown


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