One of the more distinctive features of modern military prop-driven aircraft are the increased number of blades per engine. The Lockheed C-130 Hercules began life with 3-bladed props, then soon upgraded to 4-bladed ones. With the advent of the C-130J the blade count now stands at six per engine.
This is modest by some standards. The new Northrop Grumman E-2C/D Advanced Hawkeye carrier-borne aircraft has two eight-bladed props. The stalled, but still hoped-for Antonov An-70 had four engines with contra-rotating props of 6 and 8 blades. That 14 blades per engine.
Still, six-bladed props are impressive enough. I shot this particular J-model Hercules at the 2007 NAS Pt. Mugu Open House. The tight framing made for a more abstract image, which emphasized the blades.
There are times when I like to get close to a subject. Tree bark, especially the heavily textured kind, makes for fascinating images. I shot this at the Huntington Library, in the garden next to the tea room. This almost has the feel of an alien landscape or of something you might see in an electron microscope. The impression is accentuated by the use of black and white film. It is one of my favorite shots.
Usually landscapes are shot with the sun at your back. It's the light the makes the image pop, so naturally you want most of the illumination on the subject. But once in a while it's more intriguing to break outside of the conventional wisdom.
This shot of Turret Arch was taken on our first, brief visit to Arches National Park in 2005. When I say brief, I really mean brief. We were vacationing with the kids in Grand Junction, CO, for a few days and decided to take a jaunt to Arches. Unfortunately we got a later start than we intended (not unusual with our group). Plus we took the scenic route instead of the faster, more direct one. As a result we reached Arches near sundown. The Windows Section, with Turret Arch, was really the only part we could get to before we lost the light.
I was intrigued with the glow through the small window in the formation. The only way to capture it was from the dark side. There is a stark and dramatic quality to this image that I really like. I felt it would be equally impressive in black and white, if not more so, so I shot a roll of that as well.
I may have to break with convention more often.
A couple of days prior to the photo in yesterday's post, I shot the sunset from the other side of the image. Roy and I were exploring the Windows section of Arches National Park at the end of a long day. As we began our short trek to Turret Arch I paused to shoot towards the fading light, silhouetting one of the rock pillars nearby. While not exactly pointed towards the spot I was standing days later, it was close enough to provide a complimentary bookend to yesterday's view. I love the shades of gray receding into the horizon line. It was very peaceful and beautiful.
El Dorado, the fabled lost city of gold, drove the Spaniards into the inhospitable desert in search of its gleaming walls and hoards of treasure. Alas for them, it was a myth of their own greedy minds. Many died in it the futile quest for its discovery.
Happily for us, we found our own version of the lost city in Arches National Park, Utah. I shot this when we were there last year, as the waning light bathed the Windows section of the park in glowing golden hues.
When Tina saw this image that night on the computer, her imagination ran rampant. She saw the weary Conquistadors gazing upon this sight and in their fevered minds seeing the object of their desire, only to pursue it to their deaths under a blazing sun and Indian arrows.
Did I say her imagination ran wild? Regardless, we now call this image "El Dorado," and she used it as the basis for her oil painting of the same name. You can see it on her blog at www.skyshadowstudios.blogspot.com.
I'm one of those people who has to have a window seat. If I can't see that I'm flying I might as well be on a bus. I love looking out and watching the ground go by and trying to identify the geographic features. I get a thrill when I can figure out where we are at a given moment. I'm getting pretty good on the Burbank to Denver route via Las Vegas.
If it's at night, the lights of the towns and cities provide clues. If the ground is obscured I enjoy looking at the clouds. The massive thunderheads that frequently develop between here and Denver are incredible in their beauty and power. It is fascinating to watch the light and shadows play across the towering columns and billowing gorges as the plane weaves its way around them. I will show some of those images later.
But one of the things I always try to look for is other airplanes. Seeing another plane passing in the opposite direction or crossing your aircraft's vector at a different altitude, or especially flying in the same general heading, is exciting - but only from a reasonable distance. The closing speeds of modern jetliners is about 1,200 mph. It makes one quite aware of the intricate ballet that occurs daily in the airspace above our heads. That the safety record is as good as it is makes a powerful statement about the professionalism and dedication of pilots, aircrews, mechanics and flight controllers alike.
Incidentally, the most aircraft I've seen in one L.A. area-to-Denver trip is about 30 planes at various altitudes. Yes, I try to keep count.
This shot was taken in May of 2008 as we were approaching Las Vegas from Denver. The clouds were gorgeous and I saw an approaching airliner with a nice contrail. I was able to get a couple of shots off as I thought it would make a nice air-to-air image that most people don't get to see. Since I doubt I'll be getting any airborne photo-op formation rides any time soon, I figured this would be my best opportunity to get a photo that attempts to capture a bit of the beauty and romanticism of flight - such as it is in today's commercial air travel environment.
If you're observant and fortunate enough to secure a window seat, you may witness the ritual pre-flight check conducted by the pilot or first officer. Day or night, rain or shine, hot or cold, the pre-flight routine is maintained in the traditions of aviation safety. All pilots must check to see if their planes are prepared and ready for flight. Even on a frigid New Year's Eve in Denver, CO, the walk is made.
This was taken with our little Canon A80 from a very cramped position. It's not a perfect shot, but it is a very atmospheric and evocative one. The cabin reflection on the lower right corner and the blurred movement of the first officer on his lonely mission only add to the effect I wanted to capture. Despite its flaws the shot pleases me.
