This visage certainly stopped me in my tracks. I thought I was seeing things. Turns out, I was. I was also at the right place at the perfect, if odd time—the right angle of the sun, and right time of day, as the light rapidly changed. I was thinking about what photographer Jerry Downs had said about seeing ordinary, or mundane things "different" when I climbed the rise. And gasped. The old adage rang true—tho best camera was the one in my hand, tho it be on its last legs. I wasn't expecting to find a rainbow in a culvert at the end of a fireroad. Or a magic portal to another world in a dam runoff overflow culvert.
Upon closer inspection, it looked like an entrance to the Otherworld. At first I thought I was having some sort of flashback, or heatstroke vs. brainfreeze. The side view was equally astonishing. By then I was singing Somewhere Under the Rainbow.....
Added bonus, it was a huge swamp cooler. I stood in front of the colorful culvert to chill out on this hottest day of the year. No rainbows were harmed in the process. Synchronicity at Soulajoule Dam, Walker Creek Road, West Marin. The synchronous moment was right before I got out of my hot car, I was using a little battery-operated spray fan, wishing it was way bigger. I think I got my wish, and then some.
Truth be known, I was feeling a bit despondent, and in need of a lift. From a rainbow, apparently. It was hot, I took the weird way home, planning to stop at the Elephant Rocks. See, 22 years ago, I was in a horrific car accident on Walker Creek Road, something that changed my life completely.
Today, I was making amends with the road. I forgave it, and the person who drove us off the road. This was merely a madcap pitstop, a girding of the loins segue enroute to the spot where my life irrevocably changed. I think it also means after 22 years, I get my old life back. Trying hard not to think of those years as wasted years. But, in retrospect, it was a life-sentence of sorts.
Truth be known, I was feeling a bit despondent, and in need of a lift. From a rainbow, apparently. It was hot, I took the weird way home, planning to stop at the Elephant Rocks. See, 22 years ago, I was in a horrific car accident on Walker Creek Road, something that changed my life completely.
Today, I was making amends with the road. I forgave it, and the person who drove us off the road. This was merely a madcap pitstop, a girding of the loins segue enroute to the spot where my life irrevocably changed. I think it also means after 22 years, I get my old life back. Trying hard not to think of those years as wasted years. But, in retrospect, it was a life-sentence of sorts.
The mystery rainbow revealed—a dam overflow runoff valve with so much pressure, it's ricochetting off the culvert creating a fine mist. The culvert, acting like a hood contained the rainbow.
This version was shared in Digital Photo Academy Community
TAKE TWO
Synchronicity at work at the Soulajoule Dam, Walker Creek Road, West Marin. The synchronous moment was right before I got out of my broiling car (no AC), I was using a hinky little battery-operated water spray fan, wishing it was way bigger. I got my wish, and then some.
It was so hot in Nicasio, I couldn't bear the thought of driving to Petaluma, so I headed for the coast via a road I've shunned for 22 years. Detour time. I saw the sign, and made a hard left, gravel spewing, I meandered up a road well appointed with potholes, not knowing where I would end up—a mile later, I was at the base of the dam. It was so hot I thought I was going to have heat stroke just stepping out of the car, but I hiked over to the spillway anyway. Maddogs and Englishmen aside, the luck of the Irish was with me. Besides, it was late afternoon and I was far from home.
This visage over the rise stopped me in my tracks. I thought I was seeing things. Turns out, I was. I happened to be at the right place at the perfect, if odd moment—catching the right angle of the sun at the right time of day. But the afternoon light changed rapidly. The best camera was the one in hand— tho my pocket Panasonic with the sweet Leica lens be on its last legs.
I was also mulling over what Jerry Downs had said about seeing ordinary things "different" when I climbed the rise. And I gasped. I wasn't expecting to find a rainbow in a culvert at the end of a fireroad. Or a magic portal to another world in a dam runoff overflow culvert. On a day hotter than Hades.
Added bonus, the rainbow was also a huge swamp cooler. I stood in front of the culvert to chill out on this hottest day of the year. No batteries needed. The mystery rainbow revealed—a dam overflow runoff valve with so much pressure, it's ricochetting off the culvert creating a fine mist. The culvert was like a huge lens hood containing the rainbow.
Truth be known, I was feeling a bit despondent, and in need of a lift. From a rainbow, apparently. It was hot, I took the weird way home, planning to stop at the Elephant Rocks. See, 22 years ago, I was in a horrific car accident on Walker Creek Road, which derailed and changed my life completely.
Today, I was making amends with the road I have pretty much avoided for 22 years. I forgave it, and harder still, I forgave the person who drove us off the road. This jaunt to Soulajoule was merely a madcap a pitstop, enroute to the spot where my life irrevocably changed, and my old life ended.
I think it also means after 22 years, I get my old life back. That of the artist. Trying hard not to think of all those years as wasted years. But it was a life sentence of sorts.
This version was shared in Jerry Downs' Synchronicity City
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