Rudy Lopez Photography » landscape

Blue moon over Colorado

Rudy Lopez — Fri, 01 Jan 2010 05:03:38 +0000

It was a quick drive out to catch the final full moon of the year. It rose as an mellow orange orb over the frozen plains.

Happy new year!

Road Trip – Dec 20 shortest day of the year.

Rudy Lopez — Wed, 23 Dec 2009 18:09:59 +0000

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Sunday was a fantastic day for shooting. The weather was beautiful and I was anxious to get some good shots. I went shooting Friday, but it was one of those days where absolutely nothing was in sync. No new locations, boring sky, and very little motivation meant a long day of driving and nothing to show for it.

On Sunday, I stumbled across two places that I had visited early in the spring but had not been back to. The light was great and there was plenty of color, shadows, reflected light, and contrast to make things really interesting. It was one of the rare times where everything clicks and the time flies by. After an hour at the first location, I made my way north past Siebert, Colorado to the second location. This property is one of the most interesting , it is very close to the end of its existence as a standing structure. This house was once occupied, then it languished for years, and by this time next year, or maybe two, it will be gone. Rubble behind a stand of trees.

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Two things strike me when I am at a location like this. The lack of permanence of things, or more precisely, the illusion of permanence we assign to things. It only takes forgetting about something to destroy it. The other thing that strikes me is the power of nature. Throughout this spring and summer, I witnessed the power of nature in it’s most impressive form, scary ass storms. But the more subtle power, the more powerful power , if you will allow it, is the capacity the earth has to refresh itself. In 100 years, only people that know what they are looking for will know that this place existed. Very few things we build will be able to survive this ultimate fate.

The final location of the day was a fantastic abandoned farm on the outskirts of the little town of Arriba, Colorado. This tricky location is easily reached if you get off the highway at Arriba, but if you miss that exit, it is a round trip of 30 miles to return. I have missed it more times than I can count, and I rarely double back to a location. Must. Move. Forward. I was determined on this day to capture this farm at sunset, so I drove along the country roads until the time was right, listening to music, pondering things that need pondering. Mental maintenance, I guess. I arrived at the farm with about 15 minutes of sunlight remaining. The low sun poked through the pane-less windows, bathing the inside of the colorfully painted rooms with a very special kind of natural light. I spent the rest of the daylight in that zone where the camera is just an extension of the brain.

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The final 15 minutes of the shortest day of this year at a place like this. A fitting end to my time in Colorado. More daylight the next day, and a new season of adventure in a new place. I am very excited about the future and a brand new path. For me, this is what life is all about.

Here are the shots from this day:

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2009 Favorite Images – selection number two

Rudy Lopez — Tue, 15 Dec 2009 20:19:02 +0000

A long way around. Summer, 2009

Taken southeast of Limon, Colorado, at this location. This storm system eventually grew so large that I had to take a 150 mile detour to avoid getting nailed by it. I didn’t get back to Denver until 1am. The storm cells were powerful and fast, you can see a small funnel poking down near the horizon from the leading edge of this cell.

2009 Favorite images – selection number one

Rudy Lopez — Thu, 10 Dec 2009 06:14:51 +0000

The idea of me rating my own photos and then explaining why they are great seems a little silly. This is an exercise in shameless self indulgence, and I feel fine.

The list of top shots will probably be less about the photos than it is about the experience of getting them. This shot was taken during the heat of the summer. There were severe storms almost every day in eastern Colorado, and I found this scene after frantically fleeing a storm that blew up around me. After the chaos of the storm, this quiet moment was particularly poignant.

Free Wallpaper

Rudy Lopez — Tue, 01 Dec 2009 00:14:51 +0000

This is a shot from 11/29, about 40 minutes after sunset near Akron, Colorado. The train tracks gleam against the almost black foreground.

Click image to enlarge, then right click to save.

Middle of Nowhere: 3/21. Storm chasing in Eastern Colorado.

Rudy Lopez — Sat, 21 Mar 2009 23:15:02 +0000

Following Storms

Watching a storm build from tiny popcorn clouds to an enormous rain maker is an amazing sight that can take hours and cover hundreds of miles. During the journey, you are likely to encounter small communities and other interesting stuff that would have remained a mystery to you, had the storm not been followed. It is Nature as a tour guide, in a way.

From a photography standpoint, a thunderstorm adds a dramatic element to an otherwise featureless landscape. It is important, for many reasons, to keep a safe distance from any large storm. For one, you want to have as much of the storm in the photo as possible. There are storms so large that you may need to be 50 miles away or more to get good scaling. Also, these storms can be extremely dangerous. Keeping an eye on the weather radar along with making smart choices will lead to an adventure that does not end with a car stuck in the mud or with a hail battered windshield.

Saturday, March 21. Eastern Colorado

I was in Castle Rock shooting a house in Castle Pines Village. I figured since I was further south than my usual starting point, I would take advantage of the situation and follow the large storm that had begin brewing over the southern metro area while I was shooting the house. After refueling, I headed east to Parker then south to Franktown. From Franktown I headed east trying to stay on the southern flank of the storm, which was heading northeast very quickly. It took me a couple of hours before I was in a position to get a good angle for photos, it was 530pm and light was beginning it’s dip into golden hour. I had made my way northeast past I-70, was now heading east on HWY 36, near Deer Trail. I was equipped with my standard rig: Nikon D300, 12-24mm lens, 18-70mm lens, Garmin eTrex GPS, and iPhone to check weather radar. I took farm roads looking for interesting subjects to include as foreground for the dramatic storm. There were various abandoned silos and old natural gas wells that provided amazing texture the scenes. I found a deserted Conoco transfer station with an enormous radio tower and huge above ground storage tanks. I took several shots at this area and moved on. By now, the storm was beginning to weaken and the light was beginning to fail. I decided it was time to turn towards home.

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I was probably only 30 minutes behind the storm, which had dumped a large amount of rain in a very short time. The roads were uncomfortably muddy. Visions of a short slide off the road and a long, muddy walk to find help kept my speed down and my nerves up. It was four miles of muddy, slick roads. I could drive no faster than 15 mph or else the tires would begin to lose traction and the car would lean sickeningly to the side. The air smelled like new growth and fertilizer, probably a smell that is very familiar to the folks that live near farms but to a city boy it smelled new and it smelled great. I eventually made my way to HWY 71, then HWY 36, then I-70 to Denver. I had a good set of photos and an exciting escape. It was a good day.

Sunset from the Petroglyph National Monument

Rudy Lopez — Tue, 10 Mar 2009 00:48:46 +0000

There is definitely a personal history with this particular location. My friends from Albuquerque will recognize this area as ‘The Volcanoes’. It is a place where my friends and I would go at night to drink beer, listen to music, and raise hell. It is also a great place to get a fantastic photographic perspective on the city of Albuquerque and the stunning Sandia mountains. Ordinarily, the Sandias would be un-obscured by clouds. But on this day a rare, late winter rain storm rushed across the West mesa and settled on the peaks as the sun set. As I approached the parking area, the rain was falling hard and I had the feeling that the sunset might be a washout. Undaunted, I gathered my gear (making sure the waterproof camera bag was zipped up tight), and headed towards the trail head. My persistence paid off as the rain cell moved east, providing a dramatic sky. The clouds hugged the 10k ft Sandias and the sun glinted off the buildings of Albuquerque. I had to hustle to reach a good vantage point, so by the time I had to press the shutter release my breath was heavy from the mad scramble up the hill. After a few deep breaths I was able to settle and shoot.

I was equipped with my standard rig: Nikon D300, 3 lenses, and Garmin eTrex GPS. I arrived at the location with rain falling at 630 pm, allowing approximately 30 minutes to hike and shoot.

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