This is the front door of the same house as seen in #6 – Little House in the Canyon, #7 – Home Sweet Homestead, and #10 – Keep the Shade In.
I have no idea what actually happened to cause such a rip in the front door screen like this. But it has the remarkable resemblance of a cartoon-character silhouette of a devilish shape, horns, mustache and all!
Behind the little house in the canyon, a lone tree stands against the backdrop of a blue-grey sky, mid-trunk deep in a sea of prairie weeds. The grayed and brittle lichen-covered tree has a sort of quiet desperation about it; like the abandoned homestead, the tree is a victim of the elements that once nourished it. Just as the home, the tree still stands…it’s jagged and broken branches still reaching for the sky, in a futile (yet beautiful) plea for rain.
Outside of the little homestead in the canyon, this time looking in through an open window that almost looks as if it had been flung open with wild abandon ages ago, and now is just hanging on until the inevitable surrender to gravity. Although there is evidence of the sun’s light through the cast of shadows against the side of the house, the light doesn’t seem to make it in much past the window’s threshold.
A number of abandoned buildings, barns, homesteads, and other leftover bits of humanity quickly become a haven for all kinds of animals. Owls, especially. I silently steadied myself against this hole and waited till it woke up and looked… right… at me!
And then of course, just like that! The owl was gone.
This abandoned homestead was barely even visible from the road; it is a wonder we spotted it in the first place. Void of any kind of driveway, we parked the car alongside the road and forged our own foot-path through the brush to get a closer look. This was the view upon our descent…
A different view of the schoolhouse out in Eastern Oregon, near Dufur. Gorgeous day for shooting such a wonderful old building. The post-production really brings out the emotional context of the location and the economic circumstances that have brought these great buildings to their present status.
Found this great old stump-village in Portland’s muddy but beautiful Tyron State Park. Despite the mud and muck from thousands of decomposed leaves, the weather has been amazingly good this winter… Well, until this last week- Back to business as usual, Pacific Northwest style!
Toma Amendolara and Mishalla Cannon, caught in the right place at the wrong time. Like nostalgia-seeking spirits from another era, they’re drawn time and again to this very bridge, exactly at five am, on July third, year after year.
That was where he’d finally proposed to her. At five am. They’d stayed out all night, dancing and promising their futures together, once he returned in a few months.
At zero six hundred, Toma was shipping out to the Pacific Ocean.
They never actually saw each other again, but they don’t forget their promises, either. You can still see them out on the bridge, every year around five in the morning, every July third. Sometimes she tries to stop him from going off, but usually they just linger and love each other.
Recently took some fun shots of Scott Thomason’s custom bobber he’s dubbed The Natural.
Good, clean custom design on this motorcycle. We had barely enough daylight to get any kind of environmental exposure, but I ended up really liking the high-contrast feel of these shots- something about the hard lighting, dark shadows, and the brushed metal just represents the bike’s character that much more.