My little laptop might be on its way out. I’m really hoping not, for my wallet’s sake. But when I fired Photoshop up today, it crashed my computer. And normally the computer has no problem handling the software. I’m going to take it in to a computer guy I know and see if he can fix the issue. Or at least buy me a few more months. Fingers crossed!
This was a frustrating one, needless to say. I took this with my crappy “big big” zoom, a 30-years old Solignor lens. I knew it wouldn’t be sharp and the fringing would be horrible, and wasn’t overly concerned about that.
The frustration? If I exposed for the moonlight so that you could see a hint of craters, the “earthshadow” disappeared and so did Mars (the speck of light on upper-left). If I exposed for the earthshadow, the moonlight was overexposed.
The obvious solution was to bracket and merge the images. I of course didn’t think of doing that at the time.
The smear of light below Venus (bigger blob on lower-left) is refraction of some sort, probably from the lens.
For what it’s worth, Venus and Mars will be in close conjunction with the moon this month. Jupiter and Saturn are also visible to naked eye this month. Very cool.
People overuse descriptions like heart-stopping or breathtaking. For someone who has a fear of heights, this view always gives me pause. I freeze up, my heart feels like it’s going to stop. I can’t breathe. The thought “what if I fall?” hammers the back of my mind, even though I know it isn’t possible.
That absolutely lovely, stunning, yet terrifying view. A vast, sweeping panorama stretched below my feet. I felt like all it’d take was one little misstep and I’d lurch off the tippy-top of this mountain and fly. Or fall. It’s not actually the height that bothers me. It’s the notion of smashing into billion of painful little pieces that terrifies me.
The altitude didn’t help – I was at 14,000 feet above the sea level (about 4000m), over 2.6 miles. I was higher than some planes and birds fly. The air was thin, and thanks to my asthma, I struggled to breathe normally. My chest ached and I felt lightheaded and a little dizzy.
I shot this with my little 18-55mm Sigma lens (not the kit, that’s crap) and found myself wishing that it was wider still so that I could capture the curvature of the earth better. I know that even at this height, the curvature isn’t really visible; it’s an optical illusion from the moisture in the air. But that horizon, though plagued by smog, is still impressive.
For such an environmentally conscious state, Colorado sure has its share of pollution.
I always enjoy going up the 14-ers because at that height, you’re above the pollution and the humidity. The air, though cold, is crisp and clear. The sky is a blue you’ve never seen at the ground level. Doesn’t make for a good photograph though.
I’m not feeling particularly creative today, hence the lame title.
That structure near the center is a quarry. The yellow swath on the hills, below the quarry, are Aspen trees. The furthestmost range that looks like a strip of humid hazy clouds is actually a mountain range. I think it’s San Cristobal Mountain range.