Blowing in the wind: I can still hear the sound even though it was many years ago. This was a supply tent, slowly being torn apart by the howling winds, laden with sand, ferocious enough to pit glass. The lighter items had long since disappeared, never to be found. Such winds were relatively rare but we were constantly needing new tents yet always hesitant to deploy them in case the ‘big storm’ came and we ran out of replacements. It took about six months to get a new tent from Pakistan to Libya. These were not tents you could just pick up in the souk.

Blowing in the Wind. A supply tent gradually being ripped apart during a ghibli in Libya.

Blowing in the Wind. A supply tent gradually being ripped apart during a ghibli in Libya.

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Causeway Morning BW is an image of the Lake Pontchartrain Causeway just after sunrise last Thanksgiving. Even without the fog on the lake you can’t see the North Shore but with the fog it just enhances how the causeway seems to vanish. I’m sure people who drive it each day no longer notice but its a weird feeling to be driving along a bridge and not be able to see land in any direction. The parallel bridges are a tad over 23 miles in length and with tall buildings only at the southern end, there’s a stretch of few miles near the middle where it’s just bridge, water, and sky.

Causeway Morning. Lake Pontchartrain Causeway disappears into a light fog on the lake.

Causeway Morning. Lake Pontchartrain Causeway disappears into a light fog on the lake.

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Morning at Lake Hartwell, a perfectly still, calm, chilly fall morning as I recall. I took this from the parking lot of my hotel before heading out to Pickens, South Carolina. My boss at the time was the wife of a vice president at Clemson University. I remember the tiger footprints painted on the roads near the campus. This would have been in the fall of 1995. I can’t place the photo now. I find it quite surprising how things have changed. Now my camera would record the location for me and I’d use a navigation app to get me where I wanted to go. Back then I had some maps and some hand-written directions. I remember the paper cup of hotel coffee steaming away on the roof of the car as I took this photo, the sun rising to my left and the only occasional sound that of other guests leaving the hotel. I write this while listening to some music on my new Amazon Echo. ‘Alexa, what’s a snack stadium?’

Morning at Lake Hartwell

Morning at Lake Hartwell

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Washington Barn, or perhaps dilapidated Washington House comes from an image I took in ’95 somewhere out around Snoqualmie / NorthBend in Washington State. Either the original slide is a tad out of focus or the slide scan is, or maybe both. The slide is not between glass so it’s not held perfectly flat. But I was hand-held with a telephoto on a cloudy day and, this being film, no option to crank the ISO up to compensate. So what do you do with a slightly out-of-focus slide? I could have junked it and consigned it to the trash but I decided instead to run it through Topaz Simplify to get this effect. I like vivid greens, I don’t know if that’s because I grew up in the rolling hills of southern England or if it’s because I spent so much of my early adult life living in deserts where green was largely absent from God’s palette – plenty of blue and yellow there, just not mixed together.

Washington Barn

Washington Barn

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The Musée d’Orsay in Paris is one of my favorite galleries. The building dates from around 1900 but, as a mainline train station, it had become obsolete by 1939. In 1970 is was approved for demolition to be replaced by a hotel but, this being France, it was listed as a Historic Monument instead. In December 1986 the building was reborn in its current role of art museum covering mainly French art from 1848 to 1915 and bridging the gap between the collections of the Louvre and the Pompidou Center. If you like the impressionists then the Musée d’Orsay has to be on your list of places to visit. This photo shows the cavernous main hall. Most of the exhibits are in galleries on either side of this hall. The lower floor in the center of the hall is about where the platforms used to be when there used to be 16 tracks down at that level, tunneled through from the Gare d’Austerlitz.

Interior of the main hall of the Musee d'Orsay, Paris, France.

Interior of the main hall of the Musee d’Orsay, Paris, France.

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