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January 2017

This Here Stranger

by Richie
This Here Stranger

R1A

Raywick, Kentucky
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The tiny town of Raywick, Kentucky has a big reputation for being badass. There’s been a bunch of midnight shootouts at the local tavern and the area cradles a sizable enclave of illegal pot farmers. Raywick’s notorious characters were chronicled in the novel Cornbread Mafia.

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Photo Copy

by Richie
Photo Copy

Every once in a while I go on a binge and read somebody’s blog from the beginning. Like Bumfuzzle, or Gone With The Wynns, or that dude that hiked from Mexico to Canada. These folks are daring adventurers and they inspire me to get off the couch and travel.

This month I’m following the trail of Mr. Quintin Lake on his blog The Perimeter. He’s walking the entire coastline of England. And as if that’s not ambitious enough, he’s photographing his journey along the way.

But what makes his blog so extraordinary is that Mr. Lake is a professional photographer. Award winning, even. And his work is absolutely stunning.

I’ve spent a lot of time studying his technique. He’s an architectural photographer and seems to concentrate on linear forms. Not only is his subject matter fascinating, but the framing of his shots are pure genius.

Now, I don’t have a $6,000 camera outfit like the professionals, but I do have a very respectable compact Nikon (P340) that has lots of manual controls. So I thought I’d wander around the farm and try to copy Mr. Lake’s style, including his square frame format.

Fence post

Fence post

 

Bluebird house

Bluebird house

 

Tractor implements

Tractor implements

 

Hay Wagon

Hay Wagon

 

Corn crib

Corn crib

 

Retired cattle gates

Retired cattle gates

 

Can’t say I’m ready for the pros yet, but I am pleased with how some of the photos turned out. And if I took the time to learn Lightroom editing, well, there’d be no stopping me!

 

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Two Thousand Seventeen

by Richie
Two Thousand Seventeen

sunset-2

Winter at the Farm

The sun sets low between the knobs this time of year. From the back deck I can mark the progress of the seasons as Old Sol marches southward from his summer resting place. At the peak of August, he lingers long behind the hill to the northwest, lively and showy with color, reluctant to allow Evening her turn. But by January, Sol seems weary and retires with a thin and hurried sunset far to the southwest, as if the effort is all too much.

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