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Lee Everett Robinson
Visions of a Passionate Photographer
Interests: Travel throughout the southwest
Recent Activity
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Rules are meant to be broken. At least, some rules. Rules are not laws, rather they're guidelines to lead us toward making a conscious decision. A well thought-out decision, maybe not, but a thought process nonetheless. Composing this image while on a visit to the Oregon coast, I tried to keep the horizon from being centered, but decided to break that rule so the other elements of the image worked in harmony. I've come to realize, over time, that I'm not trying to please you with my photography. I'm trying to please me. It pleases me when you enjoy looking... Continue reading
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Have you ever found yourself drawn to an antiques shop? What is it about the leftover artifacts of someone's life from fifty or a hundred years ago? In a small town in middle America, the shops often contain pieces of personal history that I find fascinating to explore and wonder about. One time, a few years ago, while in an antique store in such a small town, I came across an olive-drab painted wooden case stenciled "U.S. Army" on the cover. Upon opening the case I found a wonderful old surveyor's level with a telescope that must have been 24... Continue reading
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They're available on Etsy.com here: http://www.etsy.com/listing/83678547/autumn-scarecrow-set-of-5-fine-art-note The year was 2002 and I was out shooting with my first digital camera when I came upon this cute door decoration on a country house in Saline County, Kansas. Nine years have passed by since then, and I'm glad they're behind me now. Adobe Photoshop 6.0 was my entry point into the world of digital photo processing. Fortunately, this image didn't need much straight from the camera, and today, in CS5's Adobe Camera Raw, this delicate little JPEG file was processed non-destructively. So, have a look back in time, and remember that while... Continue reading
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Autumn. That time of year in the northern Rockies when the air is crisp, smoke from wood stoves is wafting in the breeze, the quakies having already turned to their yellow-gold pastels, and the montañas are blanketed with their first covering of snow. Ahhh, to be there on the western side of Glacier National Park, in a quiet meadow, sitting upon my iron steed, listening to the burble of the stream, the sound of the wind through the pines. A special moment in time for this city boy, where the cares of the day seem so far away and unimportant.... Continue reading
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Last year, early in autumn, Jan and I had a wonderful opportunity to visit Vermont, a state that I hadn't seen in more than fifty years. My early childhood memories of summer vacations in New England are a blur of roadside cabins, lakes, mountains and forests. My Long Island grade school history classes with emphasis on New England and the Revolutionary War were my favorites. Deplaning in Burlington more than a half century later, I find much of Vermont's history well preserved. From the early French influence to the maple syrup tourist industry, my expectations were well satisfied. Sure, the... Continue reading
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The bears are the only ones who know spring is upon us. They're hungry after their long hibernation. There are NO other indications here on the west side of Glacier National Park. The snow is more than five feet deep along the road past the Lake McDonald Lodge. None of the deciduous trees have even begun to bud. Overnight temps are still in the twenties. The sun, going in and out amongst the billowy cumulous clouds, is warming the scene here for a few moments before the next snow squall arrives. And arrive is does, snowing furiously for a few... Continue reading
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I find there is something quite introspective about watching the snow fall. Sometimes the snow is driven by the wind, as our own lives are sometimes driven by forces beyond our control. Sometimes the snow just floats down from the clouds, not in a hurry to join the others, just meandering through time. And through the snowfall the landscape changes minute by minute, then hour by hour. This transformation is not unlike the tracks we've left upon the world, some deeper than others, some longer lasting. Perhaps now, as time melts away, we can enjoy each new snow storm as... Continue reading
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I've often wondered how our lives can be much like a piece of driftwood, beginning our journey far from where we find ourselves today. As I sit upon this ancient log on the shore of Lake McDonald in Montana's Glacier National Park, a gentle snow flurry begins to swirl in the crisp, clean air, and I try to imagine the journey my perch has taken over the last fifty years or so. Perhaps not together in time, we both will have encountered a few log jams that delayed our travels and then altered the route to our most recent destinations.... Continue reading
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Living in the west for so many years now, I've come to appreciate neo-colonial Spanish architecture whenever I've encountered it. There's something in the style that's pleasing and comforting while, at the same time, being visually stimulating. The angles and curves, the way light and shadow play with each other against the elements, it's in a word, charming. Towns such as Santa Fe and Sedona offer so much eye candy for me that just a slow walk about the streets will provide all the entertainment I need. In Sedona, the shopping village of Tlaquepaque is a faithfully and wonderfully reproduced... Continue reading
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The first snowfall of the year, for me, marks a change in lifestyle. Short sleeves to long sleeves, cotton to fleece, light and airy to warm and toasty. Here in the mountain states we often find a wonderful overlap of autumn into winter where the landscape becomes a little of both seasons. The fresh clean air that follows a snowstorm mixes with the scents of pine and spruce and wet aspen leaves. As the storm clouds begin to clear, the landscape awakens with the contrast of snow against mountain, then the deep azure of sky and the golden brilliance of... Continue reading
Thanks, Kristin! It's a wonderful time of year.
1 reply
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There's gold in them thar hills, or so the oldtimers thought when they made their lode claims in the Wasatch more than 120 years ago. For me, the motherlode each autumn is the abundance of color that captures the light at every turn. A grove of quakies this time of year can be a delight to the senses. First the color and light, then the aroma of fallen leaves and twigs, and then the sound of the leaves flickering in the breeze. There's always a chance a mamma moose and her yearling calves might wander past, snacking on the remaining... Continue reading
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September in Vermont is cloudy, sunny, rainy, clear, and usually all of those every day. Late summer can bring cold air from Canada across the Great Lakes and into New England with some gusto, providing an early taste of autumn. A few trees will have started to turn color and reds and yellows and oranges will begin to pepper the hillside landscapes. One day during our recent visit there, we toured through the islands of Lake Champlain, finding quaint little villages and well-kept farms along the way. The red barn was discovered during a sunny break in the cloudy sky... Continue reading
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It happens just a few times each year when moonrise coincides closely with sunset. Part of my preparing for any trip that might involve a photograph or two is to quickly check the destination ephemeris tables for such an opportunity. So, there I was, enjoying the afterglow on the Secret Mountains as Mr. Moon made his appearance. There is a delicate balance of exposure with a bright moon and dark foreground, and so as not to overexpose the moon, I used f/8 and 1/125th hoping I would be able to draw some detail from the resulting foreground darkness. Not that... Continue reading
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August. This is the month to be in the alpine altitudes of Utah's mountains. The wildflowers are so prolific this year, what with the late snow melt, that no matter where one chooses to set the tripod, images of Columbine or Indian Paintbrush will fill the viewfinder. August also marks five months since my thoracotomy. Tromping around above 10,000 feet, for me right now, requires supplemental O₂ which I am not going to schlep along mountain trails, thank you very much. So be it. Next year will be better. Better wildflowers and better oxygen saturations. Fingers and toes crossed. Imagine... Continue reading
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To my mind, there's nothing finer than a long drive through the outback of the midwest. Small country byways wandering the middle of Kansas, far from the hustle and hurry of the freeways, calm and serene scenery, little villages where the folks haven't changed in decades. Tom Parker is fond of saying something to the effect that you know you're in the country when the cafe waitress has never heard of chili verde. It's so true, and the most favorite item on the menu is a cheeseburger with lettuce, tomato and onion. Wash that down with an ice-cold cherry Coke... Continue reading
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It seems that most of us in our travels must have at least one image of the iconic landscape that sets apart our destination. Ok, it's the same image captured thousands of times by everyone who has visited that area. And that's alright, I do it, too. Lately though I've begun to tire of those iconic images hanging prolifically in every shop and gallery nearby. Sure, they all are slightly different, some with storm clouds, some without. The image I have posted here is the backside of Cathedral Rock, near Sedona, Arizona, in early morning light. It's likely been captured... Continue reading
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The Diné believe, much as I do, that we belong to our natural environment. While sitting upon a boulder in the late afternoon, overlooking the vast lands of the Navajo, I can almost hear their voices in the wind. The soft rush of air on my skin, the faint scent of earth and rain and smoke allow me to wonder where might be those folks upwind from me. I can see from one edge of the earth to another and nothing moves, save perhaps a raven or hawk hunting its next meal. The sky is magical, the mare's tail clouds... Continue reading
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This image may be almost 26 years old, but it is one of my favorites. Not only because it was captured during our honeymoon at Cannon Beach, but because it was captured with my trusty old Nikon FM and 50mil f/1.8 lens. Our hotel was just up the beach a ways from this spot, and almost every day we enjoyed rain showers from dawn till dusk. With a nice fire in the fireplace, some good wine and nearby restaurants, we enjoyed ourselves very much. Nearing the end of our stay there, the afternoon skies cleared and as the setting sun... Continue reading
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Yes, the astute viewer will see that this is not an antique photograph. Waving in the omnipresent Kansas wind, the American flag having fifty stars does give it away. Ok, I took some liberties with this image, hopefully to bring an aura of antiqueness appropriate to the scene. Abilene, Kansas, that little town in the center of our country, known mostly as being the birthplace of Dwight D. Eisenhower, has a very interesting history dating back to the earliest adventures in the emerging and burgeoning Old West. Driving through Abilene, one is immediately taken by the number of well-restored historic... Continue reading
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As I stood atop this little hill in the stillness of early evening, watching the shadows becoming longer and longer, I wondered how many people had been here before me. With the thousands of visitors each year to this part of Arizona, could it be that I had found an undiscovered viewpoint to gaze across this juniper forest towards the foothills of the Secret Mountain Wilderness? There were no other footprints. The red earth had been cleansed by recent rains, leaving just ancient remains of mesquite tree branches and brittlebrush skeletons. I stood there for quite some time, enjoying the... Continue reading
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Awakened early this morning by the lab tech who, coming into my hospital room, startles me out of a deep sleep. After donating yet more blood to their cause, I figured it was time to rise and meet the new day. Blessed as I am with a view of the majestic Wasatch Mountains, I sat by the window and waited for morning twilight. Today’s photograph is not technically very good, but I hope it conveys the feeling of a new day dawning, new hopes and desires, new expectations. “Morning has broken like the first morning…..” sang Cat Stevens so many... Continue reading
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Mar 15, 2010
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This photo is an un-retouched scan of an image of Dad and I, captured about 1958, likely with Dad’s WWII Kodak Bantam, aboard our last boat, cruising the Great South Bay off the shore of Long Island. By this time in my young life Dad had taught me how to plot a course on a navigation chart, measure the magnetic bearing of the course using the chart’s compass rose, scale the distance of the leg, and compute the time/speed/distance formula (with a little help). I could then steer the course from a known buoy to the next channel marker and... Continue reading