Welcome to the landscape photography blog by Chuck Derus. Thanks for looking and for your comments!
Pizza...and Fjords?
Fjords…and Pizza?
Pizza for dinner. Not once, not twice, but four times! It’s the last thing I expected when I recently visited Norway.
Our photography group traveled from Trondheim, to Sunndal, to Andalsnes, to Stryn, and finally to Alesund photographing fall colors in the fjords. As usual, we ate at off hours and in smaller towns. Pizza restaurants were everywhere!
I expected seafood. But as you can see below, Norway leads the world in pizza consumption at 25 pounds per person per year.
https://worldpopulationreview.com/country-rankings/pizza-consumption-by-country
On October 12, we were staying in Andalsnes. Because sunset was relatively early at 6:34 pm, we were back in town in plenty of time for dinner. And what was the closest restaurant to our hotel? A pizza joint, naturally.
And because we wanted to make it easy on the waitstaff, what did we order? Pizza. It’s what’s for dinner in Norway, apparently.
The Shot
The weather made this trip challenging. The winds were Westerly off the Atlantic Ocean bringing in rain and fog. One violent, windy nighttime storm early in our trip brought down most of the fall foliage. In addition, it triggered a landslide that knocked out power to our hotel for several hours.
The trick in those conditions is to keep repeating, “Bad weather makes for good photographs.” Bad weather can sometimes transform mundane into magnificent. But rain grounds drones and camera weatherproofing has its limits.
On October 14, we were near Utigardselva. There were bands of fog and low clouds with just occasional mist. We finished piloting our drones near a mountain waterfall and finished the mile long hike back to our parked cars. Just as we arrived, we glimpsed a peek at the peak. The tip of the mountain we were trying to capture magically appeared.
I grabbed my “big” camera and quickly fired off two shots. Within seconds, the peak vanished in the clouds along with the composition. Without it, the shot just doesn’t work.
The next day we were off to Alesund and our first authentic Norwegian seafood dinner!
Thanks for looking,
Chuck Derus Zenfolio | Chuck Derus
Colors of Many Meanings
Colors of Many Meanings
What do you associate with rainbows? The answers are surprisingly diverse among various cultures.
In Native American traditions, rainbows symbolize a bridge between the earthly realm and the spirit world. They are a pathway for ancestors or spirits, signifying protection and guidance.
In Irish folklore, a pot of gold awaits at the end of a rainbow. Emphasizing the notion of fortune and the pursuit of dreams, rainbows link rewards and perseverance.
In Asian cultures, rainbows are seen as omens of harmony and positive change. They signify the union of yin and yang, embodying balance in life’s dualities.
In Mediterranean regions, rainbows symbolize peace and unity. Ancient Greek texts celebrate rainbows as a sign of goodwill among gods.
In Greek mythology, Iris, the goddess of the rainbow, functioned as a messenger of the gods. To the Greeks, rainbows reflect the relaying of messages between divine forces and humanity.
In Norse mythology, rainbows are a burning bridge reaching between Earth and Asgard, the realm of the gods. A rainbow signifies accessibility to divine wisdom and protection against chaos.
Finally, in Hinduism, the rainbow is a manifestation of the divine and a bridge between mortal and spiritual realms. It symbolizes the connection between humanity and the gods, offering blessings and hope.
The Shot
Last month I was in Alaska to photograph fall colors. We encountered quite a bit of rain during the first half of the trip. But breaks in the clouds led to interesting atmospheric events and photographic possibilities.
On September 10, near Delta Junction, Alaska, the sun was at our backs. When a shaft of light briefly broke through the clouds, the distant rain created a beautiful double rainbow.
The primary rainbow always has more intense colors and luminosity. It also has the classic “Roy G. Biv” (red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet) color sequence with red on the top and blue on the bottom.
The secondary rainbow has a cool twist. The colors are reversed (Vib G. Yor?). In addition, it’s higher and lighter in color than the primary one. If you ever see a social media double rainbow image and both rainbows are Roy G. Biv, you’ve been hoodwinked by an AI created fake.
The beautiful double rainbow brought a sense of serenity and gratitude to my being. After composing and taking my image, I just stood there appreciating nature’s beauty until this ephemeral sight abruptly vanished as the sun went behind the clouds.
Thanks for looking,
Chuck Derus Zenfolio | Chuck Derus
Snowliage
Snowliage
Usually, it’s one season or another. I can be photographing in the fall, winter, spring, or summer.
But when I’m very lucky, two adjacent seasons collide. And when they do, the transitions are oftentimes visually compelling.
When fall and winter merge, California landscape photographer Michael Castaneda calls it “snowliage.” The combination of fresh snow and colorful fall foliage is a photographer’s delight.
The Shot
I just returned from a fall photography trip to Alaska. While we didn’t expect snow, it’s always a possibility in the far North.
Our first few days were bleak with overcast skies and intermittent rain. On September 11, while driving to Talkeetna, the rain occasionally turned to snow.
As we drove, we were looking for repeating layers of trees separated by the snow. Finally, enough layers appeared on a short stretch of the highway with suitable foreground trees mixed with fall colors.
We piled out of our vehicle to quickly photograph the scene. Selecting a slow shutter speed caused the snow to streak, an effect that seemed to bring life to the snowstorm. And the snow perfectly complimented the fall colors. It was the best of both seasons.
Just as quickly as the layers appeared, they disappeared when heavier snow caused distant layers to disappear. And when the snow lessened, we lost the separation between the layers.
I’ll be taking the next two weeks off, so the next Friday Photo will be October 18.
Thanks for looking,
Chuck Derus Zenfolio | Chuck Derus
You Can't Always Get What You Want
"You Can't Always Get What You Want" Mick Jagger and Keith Richards
I wanted a sunset shot from Willis Tower. Friend Paul Teodo, his son Peter, and I decided to head to downtown Chicago’s Willis Tower (still called the Sears Tower by stubborn Chicagoans) for a sunset experience. The weather forecast suggested a good chance of a colorful sunset.
But the first stop was a favorite Mexican restaurant of Paul’s, 5 Rabanitos in the Pilsen neighborhood. After a hearty meal, it’s now my favorite as well.
The Pilsen Neighborhood as illustrated by Chicago Neighborhood Maps — Joe Mills Illustration
Since we had time to spare, I grabbed my camera, and we started walking. Pilsen is famous for its murals painted by local artists.
We headed North towards the railroad viaducts. Wow! What a riot of colors and subjects.
The Shot
After leaving Pilsen, the sky turned gloomy. While it’s always fun to experience the city 1,353 feet above it, good photographs require interesting light and there simply wasn’t any.
While I couldn’t get what I wanted (sunset), I did get what I needed (for a Friday Photo). Enjoy the images below framed by the viaduct supports.
Thanks for looking,
Chuck Derus Zenfolio | Chuck Derus
Travel
"Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts. Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one's lifetime." From The Innocents Abroad by Mark Twain
Friends thought I was crazy to visit Pakistan in 2023. Surely, I was in danger, they told me. But my visit revealed the opposite.
The people of Pakistan were welcoming, and I never experienced a sense of danger. A visit to one Pakistani village in particular will never be forgotten.
Shimshal
Shimshal is a remote village in the Hunza District of the Gilgit–Baltistan region in northern Pakistan. Located just 62 miles from the Chinese border, it’s the highest settlement in the district at 10,213 feet above sea level. There are approximately 250 households with two thousand inhabitants who live there.
It’s also the name of the largest valley in Gilgit-Baltistan, encompassing almost the entire district. The Shimshal River flows through it.
Our group’s Pakistani guide, Muqeem Baig, is from the village. He is an extraordinary athlete and one of the kindest and gentlest people I have ever met.
Me, Muqeem Baig, and Jon Christofersen
Muqeem's ancestors settled in the Shimshal Valley when Shimshal was first settled in 1450. The village was isolated for centuries. Reaching the nearest village, Passu, required a trek of three days over incredibly challenging terrain.
An ancient shelter along the trek is at the bottom of the image
A serpentine part of the trek is above the car leading to a pass
After 30 generations of living at high altitude, their strength and ability to function there is legendary. Pakistan's elite trekkers and climbers come from Shimshal.
Muqeem’s father was one of the first to climb K2, the second highest mountain in the world. And if you are climbing the 28,251-foot summit of K2, the high-altitude porters on your team are from Shimshal.
The Road to Shimshal
There was no road to Shimshal until 2003. The villagers spent 18 years hand carving a one-lane, unpaved, rocky, winding, mountain road through dozens of miles of sheer cliffs. Beginning from a turnoff on the Karakoram Highway, the road winds 37-miles up a cavernously deep valley with amazing rock formations.
The mountain is so steep that the sunlight never hits parts of the valley and river thousands of feet below. Sections of the road are supported by meticulously dry-fitted rock retaining walls, assembled with great care and skill. This traditional technique allows the walls to flex slightly and drain water naturally, making them durable.
It’s just wide enough for a single car. And sometimes it is barely tall enough for a car as it occasionally cuts into precipitous cliff faces towering hundreds of feet above the road. And it winds though boulders as big as a house.
Even the bridges are interesting. Wooden suspension bridges undulate as you slowly drive across them. You must wait for them to become still before slowly easing your vehicle across. A short video of a bridge crossing is at Zenfolio | Chuck Derus | Pakistan
The three-hour drive is “exhilarating.” Check out Jon Christofersen’s video of three minutes of this nail-biting experience at Zenfolio | Chuck Derus | Pakistan Despite its terrifying appearance, there have been no fatalities in its 22-year history.
When you finally arrive in Shimshal, you are greeted by a beautiful maze of irrigation channels running between green fields of crops. Well-maintained mud and stone houses, a school, and dirt roads lined with hand-constructed rock walls are spread evenly throughout the village. Apricots harvested from the surrounding trees are commonly seen drying on rooftops.
An apricot grove in Shimshal
A view of our hotel in Shimshal
The arid landscape features high altitude meadows for grazing surrounded by mountain peaks reaching well over 22,000 feet. Glacial meltwater powers a small hydroelectric plant (sometimes).
Our Visit
The decision to visit Shimshal was at the last minute. After the excitement and fatigue of travel, we were exhausted. It was well past tourist season, and nothing was open.
Thanks to the hospitality of the villagers, they opened the only hotel in town and laid out clean sheets and four blankets. We needed those blankets as the electric power wasn’t sufficient to run space heaters, and it dropped to freezing during the night.
Despite the late hour and no restaurants, the villagers warmed up the lobby and brought in food and tea for our group.
Warming up in the community room before tea
My room for the evening in Shimshal
The Shot
Today’s Friday Photo is by our tour guide Muqeem. Our intrepid group of photographers awoke well before sunrise and hiked about a mile out of the village to an overlook. But the sun didn’t cooperate, and no photographs were taken.
We returned to the village to wander around before packing. While I snapped travel photos, I couldn’t help thinking about the resilience, kindness, and generosity of our Shimshali hosts.
All of my first world problems were rendered insignificant. And whatever lingering preconceptions I had about Pakistanis vanished.
Muqeem’s iPhone image from that morning seemed to capture the beauty of his village. He graciously granted me permission to use it for my blog. Thank you, my friend.
Thanks for looking,
Chuck Derus