In a time long, long ago in a land far, far away. A fairy tale could start like this. The feeling of a fairy tale creeps me more and more when I think back to the time in February with my friend Harold photographing in California, Nevada, Utah and Arizona.
Without doubt, distance is not a purely physical matter. The physical distance is increased by the impossibility of visiting him due to a microscopic being that causes overwhelming damage in his country. Not only the health of many is affected, but also the economic prospects are terrible.
Harold and I had after a 5 days workshop in Yosemite Valley a peaceful evening in the fields near Caliente (CA). It was silent, only little noise penetrated our ears. The smell of meadows wafted somewhere. We were still protected and did not know.
In Arches National Park one is ubiquitously filled with beauty. Unfortunately not everything can be reproduced photographically. Only some things lead to beautiful images.
The raven was not alone. The birds had specialized in parking lots. They should not be fed, of course.
The red rocks ar richly structured. Some structures were created in millions of years by the erosion of the water, some by rockfall. The Green River and the Colorado River meet here and form a confluence.
Famous became Balanced Rock. The picture explains everything.
Near the Courthouse Tower. You can guess how judges deliberate.
The Arches National Park is located between the Henry Mountains in the west and the La Sal Mountains in the east.
Berkeley is my first stop. Here I meet my friend Harold and his wife Phyllis. Last decisions to take. After a very long day with a pleasant flight from Frankfurt to San Francisco the night was interrupted by short wake-ups due to time shift.
As breakfast was not included in my hotel room I went around with a camera at my hand. The morning sun just came over the hills. Small signs explain the advantage of succulents during the increasing drought of the region, because so much water can be saved.
As I move on, I am increasingly surrounded by students who have left for lectures. A lot of homeless people catch my eyes. One of them stands there with his pants half pulled down and shouts at everything and everyone with an aggressive tone of voice. He is near the globe with many layers of complex surfaces that I want to photograph. I’m glad I can disappear.
An hour to sunset: we climb up the Berkeley Hills that show a splendid view on Golden Gate bridge and San Francisco downtown. Many young people drinking and smoking drugs up there.
We went up to Cape Perpetua before our breakfast. I’d been there before after the eclipse in 2017 with Christa and friends. That year the sky was full of smoke.
Today the sun was shielded by some haze coming from the Pacific Ocean. I wasn’t clear in mind about going there a second time. The impressive view of Heceta Head lighthouse the day before hadn’t left me.
Black and white gives more meaning and feeling than faded colors. But it’s already long time ago and far, far away.
We left Heceta Head lighthouse with an undecided feeling. The day before the lighthouse had been in a gorgeous light. A talk about the building and its history was not enlightening. The sunrise at Cape Creek came all of a sudden through fog from many directions. The bridge took a bath in this crepuscular light.