Monochrome II

"What makes photography a strange invention is that its primary raw materials are light and time."

-John Berger

I love traveling on Hwy. 395! Never get tired of it, except for the part that runs through Hesperia and Adelanto. Running parallel to the eastern edge of the Sierra Nevada Mountain range along the base of its foothills, the 395 passes through some of the most scenic areas and spectacular landscapes throughout all of California. If one wishes to view geology in the raw, this is the road to travel on.

Abandoned Car, Bodie Ghost Town. Bodie, California. Shot this photo with a camera that was converted to capture the infrared spectrum of light. Green turns white, reds and blues turn black, while browns will transform into various shades of gray. One of my faves.

Winter Grasses. Yosemite Valley, California. While out exploring the valley floor and hoping to capture some iconic winter shots, I came across this patch of dead and dormant wild grasses popping up through the snow in a large meadow adjacent to the Ahwahnee Hotel. Captivated, I immediately envisioned it in black and white; reminiscent possibly of a Japanese pen and ink drawing. The contrast of the white snow to the relative darkness of the slender stems cried out "Create in me a black and white!" I obligingly did so, and am very content with the outcome.

Sierra Bonsai, South Lake. Bishop, California. I was up in the Bishop area of the Sierra Nevada several years ago in October to photograph fall color up on the eastern slopes of this remarkable mountain range.

On one of my forays looking for fall color around South Lake, located west of the small town of Bishop, I came across a rather large granite escarpment overlooking and dominating the south end of the lake. As I was hiking around it, I came across a veritable grove of naturally stunted pine and broadleaved trees, forming an amazing little bonsai garden.

There must have been at least 60-80 of these diminutive natural sculptures threaded all along the cracks and crevices of the escarpment. It kind of reminded me of the fairytale landscapes incorporated into Disneyland's fairy boat ride. None of them were more than 4 foot tall; many of them gnarled and looking quite old. This particular broadleaved specimen was approximately 2-3 foot tall.

Dead Bristlecone Pine Stump. White Mountains, California. The White Mountains parallel the Sierra Nevada range to the east. Between them lies the Owens River Valley and Hwy. 395. It is a rather stark and dry mountain range. As winter's Pacific storms swoop down out of the Gulf of Alaska where they are spawned, they bump up against the Sierra Nevadas and are wrung out of much of their moisture before they crest and move to the east. By the time the clouds reach the Owens Valley and the White Mountains, very little moisture is left in them.

The bristlecone pine has adapted itself to harsh, dry and high altitude environments, such as found in the upper elevations of the White Mountains. Determined to be the oldest living things on our planet (except perhaps for some of the nuns that taught at a parochial school I once attended), several have been reported to be over 6,000 years old.