Divided

The way these trees look from a bird's eye view is magical. They aren't perfectly straight like I imagined. They look slanted and diagonal from up above, which is because they aren't in the exact center of the picture. With the road, it was hard to find a completely straight portion of it. It kept winding left and right, and around and over the mountains. I decided that the road didn't have to slice the image perfectly. If anything, that would make it look less interesting. So, I centered the road as best I could, then took the picture. 

 

Open

At the same scenic overlook, I flew over about 1,200 feet to the north. I was met with this hill that blocked the view of the town. At first, I was upset. I wanted to capture the town and all its city life from a faraway distance. But then I realized that having only nature in the image also works. Besides the highway, much of the land is entirely untouched. It's nice to see this land left to survive how it was meant to be. 

 

Freedom

After changing the camera angle, I found this view looking directly down. Throughout this series, there will be many of these 90-degree camera angles (looking straight down). But, each one appears a little different and tells a different story. This story is one of a hidden view that many don't notice. A lot of the time on the road, especially when we need to get to a destination fast, we don't stop at all the scenic overlooks. We just focus on the road ahead. For this picture, I wanted to capture the overlook and all the excellence that is around it. Maybe we should pay more attention to those signs like we do speed limit signs, or should I say, some of us pay attention to speed limit signs. 

 

Backcountry Road

One day I decided to go on an adventure. Where? I'm not sure. We went down to Highway 145 and took a left. I think that's south? Or maybe west? Either way, we took the highway for a few miles and found this scenic overlook. And scenic it was. Deep into no-service country, I did my new favorite action and sent the drone up. This picture came from directly above me, about 1000 feet up. High enough that it captures the movement of the road, with the beauty of the mountains all around it. 

 

Mountains

After flying around for a little while, I was fascinated by the surrounding mountains. Luckily, the early morning clouds were replaced with lighter, more sporadic ones. Each day the clouds had something different to offer. Sunday was snow clouds, Monday was broken ones, Wednesday was more snow, and Thursday and Friday, well you'll see those later. But, they were similar to these, just more wispy and silky (very technical terms), and a whole lot more appealing. 

 

Resort Town

After snowboarding for the first half of the day, the snow clouds were replaced by the sun and clear skies. So, I sent the drone up yet again. Different cities have varying laws about where you can and cannot fly drones. In Dallas, the only rule is to stay out of airport airspace and stay below 394 feet. In Telluride, you cannot fly above private property (which is hard to determine when 400 feet in the air), and some private properties have very restrictive drone policies. But, staying above public property and out of the resort's boundaries (yes, I checked the flight path afterward), I was able to capture this picture of the lift lines on Chair 4 and the surrounding buildings. 

 

Pine Forest

After waiting as long as I could, I sent up the drone. The temperature was around 15F, but I wasn't too concerned about the battery or the drone's performance since it was warmed before take-off. While in the air, I looked around, then looked down, and saw these snow-covered pine trees. I wanted to position the drone such that the entire frame was full of trees, which wasn't very hard to do. Then, when editing, I debated putting the picture into black and white. I eventually settled with color because I like the hints of brown and blue that add another layer to the image. 

 

Snow Flakes

As the snow continued to fall, I knew that I couldn't fly the drone, but trust me some incredible drone shots are coming soon. On the ground, I took out my camera and found the closest pine tree. My goal was to capture the snow falling onto the already accumulated snow. To do this, I needed to have a high shutter speed so that the snowflakes would be frozen in the air. This was the best of many pictures, but I like the way it turned out. 

Also, if it is even possible, I have taken too many good pictures. 45, to be exact. And if I continued with my recent three pictures per week strategy, that would take fifteen weeks. Lucky you, I will be trying to post for forty-five consecutive days. So, sit back while this remarkable Colorado series floats on by. 

 

Blurred

After waking up a little too early the next day, I decided to take a stroll in the shin-deep powder. Even after sixteen inches fell, it was still snowing. After walking for a little while, I found this lamppost and street sign. I set up my camera and tripod and took a long-exposure picture of the snow falling. Even in the short two-ish minutes that it took to take this picture, I still managed to accumulate a large amount of snow on the lens. You can see this with the circles of light and fuzziness of the lights. But I think it adds to the picture. Nothing says snowstorm more than not being able to see fully.

Spring Storms

Welcome to Colorado! Starting with the fifteen-hour drive, I could tell the weather would be crazy. Tornadoes and incredibly dense fog in Amarillo, hail in Santa Rosa, winds that blew over an 18-wheeler in Tucumcari, and snow during the final two hours. I'm not sure how much more crazy the drive could have been. Then, to top everything off, when I woke up on our first day, there were sixteen inches of snow, and another five fell during the day. Now, I would never complain about too much snow, but there was a lot of it. 

 

From Above

For my last picture of this series, I ventured down to Teddy Bear Park. I sent the drone up the usual 394 feet (oddly specific, but that is the maximum flight altitude in Dallas and most cities) and as close to downtown as I could. Flying poses new risks, such as commercial planes in your area and takeoff and landing zones, but the rewards far outweigh them. For instance, I took this picture a few hundred feet from the border of Love Field's landing zone. Luckily, the camera quality on the drone is good enough that it didn't become too grainy when I cropped in. 

From the first sentence, you can tell that this is the last picture of the series. No, the next series does not feature a warm-up. If anything, it is only getting colder. Starting Monday, I will be posting from colorful Colorado! I am excited to take pictures in a new area and especially excited to send the drone up in the mountains. 

 

Road to Nowhere

Continuing on my bike ride, I came upon a long and straight street. The dark skies, few tire tracks, and dull colors made for a mystical-looking picture. Besides the tire tracks, it is as if humans had left the area. When editing the picture, I tried to capture this emotion by lowering the saturation and vibrance. Saturation and vibrance are how much color shows up. A high saturation means a lot of added color, while low saturation will make the picture look black and white. For many of my pictures, I add the slightest bit of saturation and vibrance to give them the extra pop, but not for this one. 

 

New Town

Being the smart young man that I am, I went on a bike ride! While on this bike ride, I sent the drone up from multiple locations. For this first one, I angled it straight down. There is something about the snow that makes an old landscape new. I have biked this route countless times, but this time was different. Never were the lawns and roofs and streets white. While editing, I wanted to mute the colors and give it an older feel. I lowered both the vibrance and saturation, added some red and blue, and lowered the green. Everything added together turned out almost brown, something that I think works with this picture. 

 

Untouched

One battery later, I sent the drone up again to examine the white substance. About 700 feet about a major road, I looked straight down onto a mostly landscape. I recently was introduced to Todd Hido. His work focuses on capturing man-made objects free of humans. For instance, many of his pictures feature nighttime shots of light pouring out a house's windows or a road leading through a desolate landscape. This picture reminded me of some of his as the scene is free of human existence (except for that one car). And, this was only the beginning of the snowpocalypse. It is only going to get so much better. 

 

Lights

I woke up the next morning bright and early at 6 am. I didn't set an alarm, but my mental clock told me it was time to explore. When I first looked out the window, I thought that the colors were inverted. The grass that was usually lighter in color than the concrete street was darker. For some reason, the snow didn't accumulate on the grass, only on the road. About thirty minutes before the sunrise, I sent the drone up. I flew it over to a nearby intersection and took the picture. A little grainy, but I really like the street lights on the white snow. 

 

Before the Storm

By changing the camera angle, I exposed all of the surroundings from yesterday's picture, the tall skyscrapers, green river, and cloudy skies. While the picture doesn't show it, the temperature was a crisp 27 degrees. You can't exactly see it, but the whiteness in front of the buildings is actually light snow falling. The snow that day was lake-effect snow, when hot water rises into the cold air, producing snow. Currently, this snow is light, but over the next few days, upwards of six inches fell around the city.