Church of San Francisco, San Francisco, Colorado. I love finding new places, to me, that is. Venturing in another direction off the beaten path. We are slowly working our away around the very southern part of the state of Colorado. Frankly, this part of Colorado looks more like it should be a part of New Mexico. It’s as if the borders were drawn too far south or not far enough north. Thanks for looking. G
Culvert, with adobe shadows in the village of San Cristobal. Sometimes I take a walk through the village to pick up the mail and say “hello” to those I meet. I wave at a passing car and snap a few photos with the iPhone. I’ve been fascinated for some time with this culvert in the field of a neighbor. I’m sure the fascination with this scene will continue. Thanks for looking. G
Stretch gate, Manassa, Colorado. The barbed wire divided the sky into random shapes. This scene is on the highway just outside the hometown of boxer, Jack Dempsey. Jack grew up in a cabin in the town of Manassa. I was down on the ground in the snow covered field, making images of the golden barley stubble when I saw an opportunity to add another image to my rural stretch gate series. Shapes and negative spaces are the main attraction and these gates are infinitely unique. Thanks for looking. G
Rural Colorado and moonrise in the San Luis Valley at the old barn. Sixteen degrees fahrenheit is cold. When the moon rose it warmed up the sky, the valley, my hands and heart. What an evening to drive into the hinterlands. Standing here in this field where the old crops are mown, the new crops not yet sown, where a coyote howled and all was still save the moon rising silently behind the clouds over the Sangre de Cristo mountains. Stay tuned for the luna eclipse photo tomorrow. Thanks for looking. G
Homestead #53 San Luis Valley, southern Colorado. Over the last few weeks we’ve spent many days in the San Luis Valley. I hope you will indulge me my fascination with the landscape, history and architecture of the valley. The area is sparsely populated with many abandoned homesteads. We don’t often meet people out there. Those who do take the time to stop and say hello, asking “is everything ok?’ are more likely a asking a question wrapped in guarded curiosity. Always, everyone we pass driving along, give us a friendly wave, a nod of the head and sometimes a smile. We are welcome for sure, but in return we are gentle with the china and wipe our feet before entering the proverbial home. Thanks for looking. G
Cornfield, and sunflowers, on the flanks of Taos Mountain. I’ve seen many small fields of corn around the county and I’m impressed by the growth of the plants despite the dry start to summer. My neighbor has a fabulous garden this year. I’m grateful for his generous donations to our pot and to the organic produce section at out local grocery store. Thanks for looking. G
Fire in the sky over the San Cristobal Valley, NM. Below is a piece by Willa Sibert Cather, from “Death Comes for the Archbishop”, shared by a friend on my Facebook page who was inspired by this photograph. Thanks for looking. G
“The sky was as full of motion and change as the desert beneath it was monotonous and still, — and there was so much sky, more than at sea, more than anywhere else in the world. The plain was there, under one’s feet, but what one saw when one looked about was that brilliant blue world of stinging air and moving cloud. Even the mountains were mere ant-hills under it. Elsewhere the sky is the roof of the world; but here the earth was the floor of the sky. The landscape one longed for when one was away, the thing all about one, the world one actually lived in, was the sky, the sky!”
—Willa Sibert Cather, Death Comes for the Archbishop
Church in Vallecito, New Mexico. La Iglesia de Nuestra Señora de los Dolores. A beautiful day for a drive with good friend and photographer Mark Collins, to Vallecito, Petaca, La Madera, Cañon Plaza, and Abiquiu. This view was through the one broken window in the gates to the church yard. Thanks for looking. G
Red Barns, Colorado. I like the juxtaposition of the roof lines and the negative space separating the buildings along with the expansive sky above. Here’s a winter image of these same barns in February 2013. Thanks for looking. G
The red barn revisited. This lovely barn, ensconced at the edge of a very large circular crop of potatoes, in the farming region of the San Luis Valley in southern Colorado, is a scene characteristic of countless rural areas across the globe.
As cultures, we share so many similarities. And as cultures we have so many differences that can separate us.
Yesterday three people from different walks of life met up to spend a day in the field photographing. Throughout the day, we reveled in the surrounding beauty of the landscapes, skies and architecture. Expressed multiple, diverse viewpoints, shared ideas, and created a variety of images based on personal views and experiences cultivated in life. Whether standing side by side, or exploring individual interpretations of a scene, we were constantly amazed at how much the solitary experience was enhanced by the collective view. That said, no two images created were alike. At the end of the day we parted ways richer for the camaraderie we shared in and through photography. Thanks for looking. G
Cherubs, Ojo Caliente, and a recliner, and on the stoop was a six pack of empty bottles. I was surprised to see things a little changed when I visited on this particular occasion. Changed? Yes! It was exactly what I would expect to find in rural New Mexico, indoor, outdoor furnishings. When I’ve visited this location on previous trips it always seemed so unimportant … a building with a mural next to a gas station. However, on this day, a certain charm had come over the place. It had been customized from the owners personal vision. While this may not fly in some more ‘sterile’ neighborhoods, with strict zoning codes, it is perfectly acceptable in this neighborhood, or so it seems. I want to call this image “waiting for god.” Thanks for looking. G
Bucket on a fence. Driving around Taos County one comes across some wondrous objects that often seem to have magically shown up, by their own will, festooning the landscape like an ancient colloquial code. What, or who, could possibly have determined any usage from hanging a flattened bucket on a fence post?