Leopard and Jaguar

Here are a couple of cool cats. The snow leopard was photographed in Chicago's Brookfield Zoo. If you look closely, you can see the out-of-focus lines of a sturdy wire fence that stood between me and the large cat. I'm not sure if he was annoyed at my presence or wondering if I was friend, foe or food. A long lens held up to the wire fence threw it out of focus to the point of almost being invisible.

The Jaguar below was photographed the same day at an antique automobile exhibit. It also has quite a stare. No problem approaching it without a fence, although its owner kept a wary eye on me.
Click on pictures to enlarge. Cat photos © 2005 James Jordan.

Implement, Highway EE

Here’s a bit of irony. Once upon a time, the farm implement in this photo was new and tilled the rocky soil of Door County, Wisconsin, clearing the fields of grasses and wildflowers to make room for corn, wheat or other crops of choice.

On this day, beside County Highway EE, it was the grasses and wildflowers that had the last laugh. The implement sits old and unused and the new flowers and grass peacefully coexist with a machine designed to ensure their destruction.

Funny how time does that.

Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2005 James Jordan.

I’ve been tagged
Tan Eng Loy of Singapore, who has a fine photo blog, has tagged me with a meme. Name five of life’s simple pleasures that you like most. Well, here goes:

1. Standing on the shoreline of the ocean or one of the Great Lakes before dawn.
2. Ice cream.
3. Sitting at the computer in my PJs posting photos and answering comments to this blog.
4. Snuggling with my wife on a chilly winter night.
5. Laughing.

That’s five and now to tag five others: Ilona, Her Royal Highness Empress Baggie, Hillary, Ric and Stacey.

Wheat field, Door County

I want to take a break from the snow and fog pictures and post a few farm photos over the next couple of days. Maybe it's because I don't want to get stuck in a rut. Maybe it's because the temperatures here have been unseasonably warm and the 12 inches of snow we got just seven days ago is nearly gone.

At any rate, I discovered this field just outside of Egg Harbor, Wisconsin on County Highway E. The stalks were heavy with grain and the barn in the distance appeared as a ship afloat in a sea of wheat.

On a totally unrelated note, a commenter gave me an update on the fate of the Joseph Medill, a retired Chicago fire department boat I came across in Algoma Wisconsin. Theresa was searching for some information on the boat now docked in Escanaba, Michigan and found my post from last November via Google (it came up on the first page of results - cool!). You can see the photo here and read Theresa's update.

Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2006 James Jordan.

Tree in fog

The wonderful thing about taking photos in fog is the way the fog eliminates potential distractions in the background. Objects stand out on their own and compositions are simplified. Metering can be a bit tricky, but once you've worked out the exposure compensation, you're good to go.

The unusual shape of this tree, its frost-coated branches, the placement of the sun straining through the mist and the simple composition makes for an interesting photo, IMHO.

Additional foggy photos, besides the ones I've posted this week, can be found here, here and here.

Enjoy.

Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2006 James Jordan.

Tucked away

I’ve been bouncing between winter and summer pictures the last few days. I didn’t want to serve up a steady stream of winter shots. Hope you don’t mind.

I found this small barn tucked into the trees just off the country road I was exploring. A heavy snow had fallen the day before and a thick overnight fog froze on the trees, weeds and fences coating everything in a frosty patina.

A little dodging and burning in PhotoShop and some vignetting a la Andy at Blue Hour finished off the photo.

Click on image to enlarge. Photograph © 2006 James Jordan.

Well-named body of water

This is Jordan Pond, a small lake located on Mount Desert Island in Acadia National Park in Maine. In the distance are North and South Bubble Mountains.

I mentioned previously that Maine and Minnesota are remarkably similar in their geological makeup and this area shows it – glacier-formed lakes and mountains strewn with rocks deposited as a mile-thick sheet of ice advanced and retreated.

After a couple of mini-ice age photos, I thought I’d return to the liquid variety of water for a bit.

Click on picture to enlarge. Glacially-oriented photograph © 2006 James Jordan.

Barn in winter mist

Tonight is the third consecutive night of fog in my neck of Chicagoland. Yesterday, I took advantage of the opportunity to shoot some landscapes on a misty winter morning.

This particular barn had several cars and trucks nearby in various stages of disrepair - it took some doing to find an angle and some natural obstructions that minimized their intrusion into the photo, but the barn had such weathered character, I wanted to capture it if I could.

The fenceposts, trees and branches formed a nice frame for the barn. The fog did the rest.

Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2006 James Jordan.

Barns, snow and fog

The weather northwest of Chicago has been remarkable the last couple of days. On Saturday, the Elgin area received about a foot of snow, and this was while the majority of the Chicago area received only a couple of inches or so. Then Sunday morning dawned with a layer of thick fog, which formed a layer of frost on the trees and bushes, Door County-style.

My wife and I drove through the farmlands just to the west of Elgin this morning, enjoying the sights of snow, fog and farms. I hopped out of the car every hundred yards or so to capture another photo of the winter wonderland.

This week was going to be a week of water photos, as was posted yesterday. I may intersperse some snow photos (which is just another form of water anyway).

Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2005 James Jordan.

20,000th visitor update: And the winner is ...

I promised something to my 20,000th visitor, whom I was expecting today. Unfortunately, visitor number 20,000 did not stop to identify him or herself. So ... the judge (me), whose decision is final, hereby proclaims that the gift I had for that person goes to vistor number 19,999. Unfortunately again, that visitor was [ahem] me ... checking in to see how the visitor count was going (sheepish grin) - and I'm not eligible for the prize.

So, the judge once again declares a passing down of the prize ... to visitor number 19,998 who is (drum roll) ... V. Schroeder! V. - your gift is a FREE 8 x 10 photographic print of any image on Points of Light. Make your selection, then send me an e-mail to jjrdns6[at]aol[dot]com to let me know which photo you'd like and the address to where I may ship the print.

Congratulations and thanks for coming by often!

Quiet water

Have you ever tried to notice all the sound and noise we surround ourselves with on a daily basis? There's a lot of it - radio, TV, stereo - not to mention the sound imposed on us - elevator music, the thump of overpowered car speakers, office chatter and clatter.

For whatever reason, God chooses to speak in the silence. He could definitely overpower the noise of our lives, but chooses instead to speak in a whisper. It can be hard to hear. It's easily drowned out in the noise and commotion of daily living.

That's why I value being in quiet places, like the place pictured above. It's Kangaroo Lake in Door County Wisconsin, about 5:30 on a summer morning. The water was still and appeared as a mirror. No sound. Absolutely quiet. The click of my camera's shutter seemed like a sonic boom intruding on the silence. God was there as I took in the sight, whispering, "Here I am."

This is the first in a series of photos of water. I'm getting some good snow pictures and will post them as I get them prepared (snow is a form of water after all).

Click (ever so quietly) on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2006 James Jordan.

20,000 thanks!

If all goes according to my usual visitor traffic rates, Points of Light will receive its 20,000th visitor sometime today. So check the Site Meter box at the bottom of my sidebar. Do let me know if you find yourself to be visitor number 20,000. Leave a comment with a way to contact you (e-mail address works for me). I have a gift for you.

I'm very grateful to all who come this way. I appreciate the comments you leave and value the friendships I've made with some folks from around the world. Pretty slick thing, this internet is.

Lighthouse week: Photo #7

Split Rock Lighthouse, Beaver Bay, Minnesota

This is one of the classic U.S. lighthouses. Located about 40 miles north of Duluth, MN on the shores of Lake Superior, the Split Rock Lighthouse, like so many others, is no longer an active beacon, having been replaced by technological advances in navigation.

While in Minnesota a couple of years ago, I was impressed by how similar the shores of Lake Superior were in makeup to the Atlantic coast of Maine. Both areas feature layer upon layer of igneous rock carved by glaciers which in some places formed magnificent bluffs rising above the water line. And both areas are separated by 1,500 miles.

I tried to capture the north woods mystique in this photos, which was taken mid-afternoon on a rather gray, lackluster day. Some PhotoShop adjustment of overall and selective levels and vignetting seem to do the trick.

Thus comes to a close a week of lighthouses. I'll start a new theme on Sunday. Oh, and the several inches of snow fell on the Chicago area this evening (finally -- it's been brown and bleak here for weeks, now). I'm heading out in the morning with a camera.

Click on picture to hear the loons (just kidding). Photograph © 2006 James Jordan.

Lighthouse week: Photo #6

Peninsula Point Light Tower, near Stonington, Michigan

Door County is a narrow peninsula of land that stretches north and east into Lake Michigan, forming Green Bay to its west. Correspondingly, two peninsula stretch south and west toward Green Bay and Door County from the upper peninsula of Michigan. These two peninsula form Big Bay de Noc and Little Bay de Noc, which were named by French settlers after the Nocquet Indians who lived along their shores.

On a narrow spit of land dividing the two bays, the Peninsula Point Lighthouse was built in 1864 to help ships loaded with lumber avoid the rocky shoals just offshore. Replaced in the 1950s by an automated light set on the shoals, the point became a hangout place for local teens, who may have started a fire that destroyed the keeper’s dwelling in 1959, leaving only the tower standing.

What was once a necessary part of the commerce of the region is today a lonely outpost. Lonely in the human sense, that is. The area teems with waterfowl and each October, hundreds of thousands of monarch butterflies use the area surrounding the lighthouse as a resting point on their migration south.

Wanting to capture a nostalgic feel for this lonely tower, I pasted a black and white version of the photo as a layer over the original color version in PhotoShop, then played with the opacity level until I got what I felt was an antique colorization effect. The full color and b&w versions are included here for comparison.



Click on pictures to enlarge. Photographs © 2006 James Jordan.

Lighthouse week: Photo #5

Wind Point Light, Racine, Wisconsin

Shipping on the Great Lakes was at its peak in the late 1800s/early 1900s. It was the way to move a rich supply of natural resources to manufacturers and manufactured goods to markets. Only problem was the lakes themselves. Rocky shoals, tricky currents and unpredictable weather sent down many a ship full of goods. Not coincidentally, lighthouse construction boomed during this time period as well. Lights along the Great Lakes number in the hundreds. Sigh ... so many lighthouses, so little time to photograph!

Many of the lighthouses today are mere shells of their former selves while some lighthouses, like the one at Wind Point, north of Racine, Wisconsin are beautifully restored and maintained by those who appreciate their history.

The ships today are fewer in number, the resources have dwindled and a large percentage of the manufacturing plants have been boarded up. In this photo, I've tried to capture the romance and nostalgia of a day long past.

Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2006 James Jordan.

Lighthouse week: Photo #4

Owl's Head Light, Owl's Head, Maine

It’s short. It’s squat. It looks like it sprouts out of the ground like a giant mushroom. But it sits on a nine-story-tall bluff overlooking Rockland Harbor, Maine. That’s all the Owl’s Head Lighthouse needs for its authority. This is one of those "don’t-try-this-at-home" photos. I spotted the dead tree to the right of the lighthouse and wanted to get it in the picture. In order to do so, I had to step over the carefully placed chain with the “Do not pass beyond this point” sign on it and position myself perilously close to the edge of the bluff.

This was taken during my August 2001 trip to Maine. It was a very hot summer and most of the grass had been baked to a golden brown color. But I think it works from a color and composition standpoint. And I survived to tell about it.

Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2006 James Jordan

Lighthouse week: Photo #3

Wind Point Lighthouse, Racine, Wisconsin

Several years ago, my wife and I arrived at Wind Point late in the day. It had been overcast and I was hoping for the skies to clear just enough to get a couple of photographs of the lighthouse. I had just recently gotten my camera out of the mothballs and begun to seriously pursue photography, having been inspired by my lighthouse calendar, among other things (see previous post).

The clouds did break up and the sun shone through. I got several photographs that day and have returned to Wind Point many times since. You can use the Google search bar to look for other photos of Wind Point on this site.

Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2005 James Jordan.

Lighthouse week: Photo #2

Cana Island Lighthouse, Door County, Wisconsin

A late afternoon snow squall line, having passed Door County, makes its way over Lake Michigan, creating a dramatic backdrop for the Cana Island Lighthouse.

I’m continuing a series of posts featuring photographs of lighthouses. My interest in lighthouses began several years ago when I procrastinated almost too long to buy a calendar. By the time I finally got around to getting out to a calendar shop, their inventory had been reduced to basically two titles – one featuring castles and the other, lighthouses. I had just started a new management position and I thought about what type of department I wanted to run – a fortress-like castle or a beckoning lighthouse. I chose the lighthouse calendar.

Lighthouses seem to fit my character (see the post “Just my Type” below). And the tag line for this blog (a quote from I don’t know where) seems to embody my philosophy of doing things.

Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2006 James Jordan.

Lighthouse week: Photo #1

Portland Head Lighthouse, Portland, Maine

When I started Points of Light last May, I did so with the intent of showcasing my collection of lighthouse photographs, along with the meaning I find in them. I also intended to post one lighthouse photograph every day. What was I thinking? I quickly decided that the scope of this blog had to include travel and discovery in general, so as not to exhaust my lighthouse collection before I had a chance to go out and get some more.

So, in a brief return to my original premise, I present the first in a series of lighthouse photos that will be posted this week.

On a trip to Maine in August of 2001, I photographed the Portland Head Lighthouse outside of the city of Portland. It was a wonderful trip with my family. Maine is a beautiful part of the country, and I personally decreased the lobster population by two. It was peaceful, quiet and serene, and this photo summed it up pretty well. But there was something lurking beneath the surface. About the same time we were in Portland, a group of men were staying in the city, having come from Canada. Members of that group would soon make thier way to Boston and Newark and Washington D.C. A month later the quiet and serenity of the U.S. was shattered by the events of September 11, 2001.

Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2006 James Jordan.

Rock show

The Niagara Escarpment is the edge of a thick series of layers of dolomite rock that stands as a prominent line of bluffs across the northern US and southern Canada. These bluffs stretch from the St. Lawrence Seaway to Wisconsin. In New York state, the escarpment is cut by Niagara Falls. Five hundred miles to the west lies Door County Wisconsin and these bluffs at Cave Point.

Don’t know much about geology, but I am fascinated by the fact that one large layer cake of rock can cover such a large chunk of earth, and that the rock I was standing on when I took this photo was basically the same rock I stood on to photograph Niagara Falls, which was the same rock I stood on to view Quebec City’s harbor and Montmorency Falls.

Big rock. Big God that made it.

Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2006 James Jordan.

I have a need ... for green

About 32 of the last 40 days have been cloudy here. And the last three weeks have seen temperatures well above the average for this time of year. Translation: No snow. Just gray skies and brown ground. Not even going outside and tossing a toilet seat can cure the Seasonal Affective Disorder I'm feeling.

I had a yearning to see some greenery, so I went back into my photo files and found this photo, taken in Tennessee in July. The ability to remember better days is a good thing. We're blessed with the ability to conjure up the past within our minds (photos can help). It brings hope for better days ahead.

And it beats tossing a toilet seat.

Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2005 James Jordan.

Tossing away the winter blahs

You know you've been cooped up inside a little too long in the winter when going out and throwing a toilet seat around seems like a fun idea. Actually, the toilet seat toss is just one of many organized activities at the Fish Creek Festival, held the first week of February each year in Fish Creek, Wisconsin. Wacky games, beer, activites, beer, food, beer, music and beer help chase away those cabin fever blues.

In recent years, one of the most popular games is the bike toss. Contestants stand on the frozen harbor and attempt to throw a bicycle as far as they can. Physics being what it is, the contestants are generally thrown as far as the bike in the opposite direction.

Did I mention they drink a lot of beer?

Click on pictures to enlarge. Photographs © 2006 James Jordan.

Just my type

Bloginality is basically a quickie version of the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator, which is a summary of how an individual tends to deal with the world around him or her. I already know my type from having taken the MBTI at work, but I wanted the cool synopsis for my blog. You can get one too by clicking the Bloginality link and answering four questions.

My Bloginality is ENFP!

What Bloginality has to say about me (my commentary in parentheses):

As an ENFP, you are Extraverted, iNtuitive, Feeling, Perceiving (not bad traits for an artist or photographer). This makes your primary focus on Extraverted Intuition with Introverted Feeling (I’ve always wondered about that - is it noticeable? It also probably explains why my wife is always telling me, "You never talk").

This is defined as an NF personality, which is part of Carl Jung's Idealist/Identity Seeking type, and more specifically the Champion or Inspirer (Braveheart with a Nikon?).

As a weblogger, you may not be consistent in posts (I’ve done pretty well – more than 240 so far since last May). Although, if you find a specific focus on your journal (photography, perhaps?) or a very flexible manner of writing (how about informal?), it may be more fulfilling (yup). Because you are warm and see so many possibilities in life, you may inspire others to follow in your footsteps (I hope so).

If you try the Bloginality thing, let me know how you rate.

Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2006 James Jordan.

Still life with moon and telephone wires

While driving along Highway EE in Door County, Wisconsin one morning last month, I caught sight of the moon. Trees, telephone poles and wires flew by under the seemingly stationary moon as I drove along.

I stopped. The trees stopped. The poles stopped. I paused in the stillness for a few moments before I composed the shot and pressed the shutter button. Then I got back into my car and everything started moving again.

I need to be still more often.

Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2006 James Jordan.

Just lurking?
Come out of the shadows and let yourself be known. This is national De-Lurking Week, according to paper napkin. Points of Light gets its fair share of comments, and I appreciate them all, and try my best to respond to them as they come in. But my good old site meter tells me a lot more people look on in silence. Do de-lurk and leave me a comment. Just say hello. Give a photo a thumbs up or thumbs down. Tell me how you arrived here. Whatevah.

hat tip to penni

Roses are red; shadows are blue?

Here is photographic proof that shadows pick up some reflection of the sky and take on a bluish tint. Or do they really? You couldn’t tell that to the self-taught painter Grandma Moses. Once, when an art critic suggested to Ms. Moses that she should mix some blue in with her shadows, she replied, “I don’t see no blue in shadows.” End of discussion.

In the Outer is a new blog I’ve added to my blogroll. The Bloke, as the writer calls himself, serves up some intriguing thoughts on matters of faith. His current post deals with the built-in uncertainty of science in understanding the universe and how that might affect faith. Just because you can’t see the blue doesn’t mean it’s not there. On the other hand, just because you can see the blue, can you be sure it’s really there? Heady stuff.

Then there are folks like me who try not to think too much and just enjoy the picture.

Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2006 James Jordan.

Discarded leaf

I used to have several things in my life that I thought were very important. I spent a lot of time doing them. They were good things; they were productive things. But now I no longer do them. I have found other worthwhile things to occupy my time and attention. The remnants of those activities now take up space in my basement and garage.

This leaf once played an important role in the life of the oak tree from which it came. It now lies where it fell, and the snow of time has fallen around it. Another leaf will take its place in a couple of months.

Life goes on.

Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph copy 2005 James Jordan.

Photo Friday: Panorama

Hundreds of photographers will be submitting panorama shots to Photo Friday today. Here's mine. This is Montmorency Falls near Quebec City last fall. This is a combination of four photographs, taken in succession and assembled in PhotoShop.

If you wander over to PhotoFriday to partake in the plethora of panoramas, be forewarned - there are some big files there. Be patient.

Click on photograph to enlarge. © 2006 James Jordan.

I’m a side serving at Penni’s internet café
Points of Light has the very real honor of being designated “Artist o’ the Sidebar” at martha, martha. I envision m2 as a virtual parallel universe to Penni’s real-life café, where friends gather, strangers are made to feel like friends and all are invited chat and discuss the relevant issues of the day. Go check out the menu.

A different road

I’ve been to Door County, Wisconsin so many times, I’ve gotten to know the main roads quite well. This particular morning I decided to travel a road I had not taken before. This particular road - County Highway T – introduced me to new sights such as Logan Creek, a restored one room schoolhouse and numerous farms. The Google Earth image shows the location of this farm.

The creek and schoolhouse can be seen on previous posts. This is just one of many farms resting for the winter, waiting for spring to renew the cycle – plant, grow, harvest, rest. Really, the entire county is in rest, although it does stir from time to time throughout the winter.

I’ll post some photos in the days ahead that show what the locals do to ward off cabin fever.

Click on images to enlarge. Photograph © 2006 James Jordan.

Schoolhouse, rocks

On a gray winter day in Door County, Wisconsin, I came across this restored one-room schoolhouse, now a private residence, across the road from large open fields. Door county fields are usually lined by walls of rocks. The farmers who originally broke ground in the rocky soil piled them at the edge of their fields as they cleared them, forming low walls that divide one field from another.

I guess we all have some rocks that have to be cleared before we can go on to achieve any meaningful accomplishments in life. In this new year, I’m making the effort to remove a few rocks. If you are, too, I wish you the best in 2006.

Click on picture to enlarge. Photo © 2005 James Jordan.

Branch and moon

Long story short. It snowed. I went outside with my camera. I stood under a tree. I took a picture. Here it is.

Longer story. Overnight snow left a coating on the trees. The next morning, I stood under an oak tree looking through the viewfinder of the camera at various limbs, trying to frame a pleasing set of branches. I got to this branch which brought to mind the look and feel of a Japanese woodcut print.

Interesting how an idea may crop up while exploring nothing in particular. Some process-oriented people might call it wasting time. We intuitive types know better.

Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2005 James Jordan.

Luminous trees

I’m a fan of Ansel Adams’ photographs. I’ve read his own accounts of how he came to determine the exposure and development for specific images and it made my head hurt. I use my own simplified version of Adams’ zone system, based on a five-tone scale as opposed to his ten-tone scale. It ain’t the same, but it’s less stuff to remember and it works for me. I’ll try to explain it sometime.

I saw these twin trees, above, against a wooded backdrop and immediately thought of an Adams photo, like the one at the right. Adams made his trees glow by compressing the tonal range through careful exposure, development and printing. Using my five-tone system and a little help from PhotoShop, I arrived at an image I’m pretty happy with.

This is a continuation of photographs taken during some gray days in Door County last week. More to come.

By the way, if you like trees, I’ve got lots of them on this site. The Google search bar to the right can help you find them. Take some time and enjoy.

Click on pictures to enlarge. Photograph © 2005 James Jordan.

Logan Creek

Door County, Wisconsin is basically a rocky outcropping in Lake Michigan covered with a thin layer of dirt, created courtesy of a large glacier a few thousand years ago. South of Egg Harbor lies Lost Lake, a small inland body of water. Further south lies Clark Lake, once a harbor, but slowly closed in by silt deposited by Lake Michigan's currents. Connecting the two bodies of water is the meandering Logan Creek.

This photograph was taken at a bend in the creek a few yards from where it passes under County Highway T. The small image is a Google Earth map that shows the relationship of the two lakes and the location of the photograph.

As I noted before, the skies were not too cooperative while I was in the county last week, and I had hoped that any scene that blocked the sky may be helpful to my cause of getting some interesting photos. I'm sure there is some kind of lesson here about forging on even when the conditions are not ideal, but I'll leave that to you.

This photo required a large amount of dodging and burning to bring out the trees in the background and tone down the reflections in the water.

Click on images to enlarge. Photograph © 2005 James Jordan.

Egg Harbor

Happy New Year. I hope that the year 2006 will be one of blessings for you.

I just returned from a few days in Door County, Wisonsin, near the small burg of Egg Harbor, specifically. It's a nice, quiet town in a nice quiet county with lots of picture potential. Photo conditions were less than ideal, but I did manage to get some outdoor shots that I feel pretty good about. Those will be posted throughout the coming week.

Today I just wanted to introduce you to the town. The small image is a Google Earth map of the Door County peninsula, just to give you an idea of place. A hat tip goes out to Fred at Fragments from Floyd and Jon at Swim Pig who occasionally supply a locator map showing where their images were made.

Just a note to Penni, who hails from another Egg Harbor - I'm guessing there's quite a contrast between the two locations.

Click on images to enlarge. Photograph © 2005 James Jordan.