Pin It
Steps to History | Washington DC On my last night in Washington DC, I was lucky enough to finally have a nice semi-cloudy sky for sunset. As I was making my way around the Tidal Basin toward the Jefferson Memorial, I noticed just how wide the steps were to the memorial. Thinking back, they are that way on all the monuments. They could be so wide so that they could accomidate visitors, but I have a feeling the designers of the monuments had some other, deeper meaning to it. I figured I should work them into one of my sunset shots and make them the focal point of the shot. I shot this with my 8mm lens so that I could capture that long sweeping curve of the first set of steps. 
Pop-upView Separately

Steps to History | Washington DC


On my last night in Washington DC, I was lucky enough to finally have a nice semi-cloudy sky for sunset. As I was making my way around the Tidal Basin toward the Jefferson Memorial, I noticed just how wide the steps were to the memorial. Thinking back, they are that way on all the monuments. They could be so wide so that they could accomidate visitors, but I have a feeling the designers of the monuments had some other, deeper meaning to it. I figured I should work them into one of my sunset shots and make them the focal point of the shot.

I shot this with my 8mm lens so that I could capture that long sweeping curve of the first set of steps. 

High Noon | Williamsburg, Virginia Few weather conditions can be tougher on a photographer than a cloudless sky at midday. That’s exactly what I got on a recent visit to Colonial Williamsburg in Williamsburg, VA. Where the other lenses in my kit fall short in these conditions, my 8mm Rokinon f/3.5 does a phenominal job with direct sunlight. I don’t know what it is, but colors come out well exposed and the sunflare rocks when shooting at f/16-22 on the lens. For this shot, the trees lining the walkway to the Governor’s Mansion provided just enough cover to diffuse the sunlight a bit and were able to cast really nice shadows reaching toward me. The shot: Nikon D90, Rokinon 8mm f/3.5 lens. Two bracketed exposures, hand held. Manually masked together in Photoshop and finished with a Glamour Glow using Nik Color Efex Pro.
Pop-upView Separately

High Noon | Williamsburg, Virginia

Few weather conditions can be tougher on a photographer than a cloudless sky at midday. That’s exactly what I got on a recent visit to Colonial Williamsburg in Williamsburg, VA. Where the other lenses in my kit fall short in these conditions, my 8mm Rokinon f/3.5 does a phenominal job with direct sunlight. I don’t know what it is, but colors come out well exposed and the sunflare rocks when shooting at f/16-22 on the lens. For this shot, the trees lining the walkway to the Governor’s Mansion provided just enough cover to diffuse the sunlight a bit and were able to cast really nice shadows reaching toward me.

The shot: Nikon D90, Rokinon 8mm f/3.5 lens. Two bracketed exposures, hand held. Manually masked together in Photoshop and finished with a Glamour Glow using Nik Color Efex Pro.

Capital Reflections | Washington DC Purchase prints here. During my recent visit to our nation’s capital, I was plagued by painfully clear blue skies. I prayed to the photography gods to bring me some clouds at sunset, and finally on my last night in town they answered. Such a big part of photography is about being in the right place at the right time and I think that is a big part of the allure of the trade too. There is so much that is out of your control. On this evening, my wife and I just happened to be along the Tidal Basin (directly across from where this was shot, actually). Walking toward the Jefferson Memorial, I could already tell the sky was shaping up to give us a grand sunset. I knew that, with the sun setting directly across the water from the memorials, that there would be some fantastic reflections on the still water. We walked around to a little bridge on Ohio Drive near the George Mason Memorial and I set up shop there. The purples, pinks and blues in the sky were an amazing sight to see as a backdrop for two memorials that are perhaps most synonymous with Washington DC. Pictured here are, most obviously, the Washington Monument (left) and the Jefferson Memorial (right). The very large building in the middle is the Bureau of Engraving, the ‘money factory.’ The shot: Nikon D90, 18-105mm Nikkor VR lens, tripod held. 3 exposures, manually masked together in Photoshop. Finished with Nik Color Efex and Viveza plug-ins.
Pop-upView Separately

Capital Reflections | Washington DC

Purchase prints here.

During my recent visit to our nation’s capital, I was plagued by painfully clear blue skies. I prayed to the photography gods to bring me some clouds at sunset, and finally on my last night in town they answered.

Such a big part of photography is about being in the right place at the right time and I think that is a big part of the allure of the trade too. There is so much that is out of your control. On this evening, my wife and I just happened to be along the Tidal Basin (directly across from where this was shot, actually). Walking toward the Jefferson Memorial, I could already tell the sky was shaping up to give us a grand sunset. I knew that, with the sun setting directly across the water from the memorials, that there would be some fantastic reflections on the still water. We walked around to a little bridge on Ohio Drive near the George Mason Memorial and I set up shop there. The purples, pinks and blues in the sky were an amazing sight to see as a backdrop for two memorials that are perhaps most synonymous with Washington DC.

Pictured here are, most obviously, the Washington Monument (left) and the Jefferson Memorial (right). The very large building in the middle is the Bureau of Engraving, the ‘money factory.’

The shot: Nikon D90, 18-105mm Nikkor VR lens, tripod held. 3 exposures, manually masked together in Photoshop. Finished with Nik Color Efex and Viveza plug-ins.

Paranormal Activity?

This was probably the freakiest photo shoot location I’ve been to and am pretty sure I had my first paranormal encounter here. Here’s the story:

This winter, I set out with my friend Ben in Pennsylvania for an abandoned coal facility that I had shot at before. Problem was, I hadn’t been there for over two years. It was a lot freakier this time than the last. To make matters worse, it was cold and pouring down rain. We decided to venture in anyway and immediately I felt some sort of odd feeling that is hard to explain. The whole time I was shooting I felt like I was being watched. People make that statement all the time and it’s easy to roll your eyes at it, but I truly felt that. It seemed as if someone was lurking around the corner at all times.

This feeling of uneasiness lasted the entire time we shot. In the middle of shooting a set of brackets, I started to hear strange metal clanking sounds. (Now is a good time to point out that there was absolutely no wind blowing) Thinking that it was just something swaying or moving from the rain, I kept shooting. The clanking was almost rhythmic, something that a dangling pipe wouldn’t do. It would speed up and slow down, all at regular intervals. Ben and I decided that was a sign that it was time to go. I packed up my gear (at this point the noise stopped) and gathered up my tripod and umbrella. As we stepped outside, the real freak out occurred.

Outside the huge front door, there is an old truck (looked like a 1960’s model) half sunken in the dirt and junk that litters the area. The exposed radiator fan on the truck was spinning full speed, silently. A little taken aback, I walked toward it. As I took a few steps, the fan drastically slowed down and suddenly stopped. Now, being that this truck has been sitting in that spot for all this time, there is no way that rusty fan could turn so easily, right? And what’s the explanation for it’s strange deceleration? 

I just wish that I hadn’t put my gear away, who knows what I could have captured if I shot that old truck. It was quite simply the strangest, most unexplainable thing I’ve experienced. Just as the uneasy feeling had swept over me as we entered the property, it disappeared as we left. As we walked back to the car excitement and wonder set in. But the entire time we walked, I couldn’t help but look behind my back…

Facebook | Twitter | Flickr | 500px | Google+

photos ©2012 Zach Frailey

Facebook | Twitter | Flickr | 500px | Google+ The Wait | Pittsburgh, PA During my last visit to Pittsburgh, I got to take in the city from a new vantage point- The West End Overlook. Dave DiCello, of HDR Exposed Photography, and I traveled up to get a good view of the city. Unfortunately it was windy, rainy and COLD. The wind was blowing the clouds across the sky very quickly and we knew that eventually an opening in the clouds may shine a beam of light onto downtown. At least that’s what we thought. In the distance, we saw a gap in the clouds and knew it was only a matter of time. We waited and waited, then waited some more. Finally the gap, now a tiny sliver, reached the city shining a singe ray of light on the the right side of this frame. It just missed the city. The wait was over, but at least we got some material to take away from our trip up to the overlook. ©2012 Zach Frailey
Pop-upView Separately

Facebook | Twitter | Flickr | 500px | Google+

The Wait | Pittsburgh, PA

During my last visit to Pittsburgh, I got to take in the city from a new vantage point- The West End Overlook. Dave DiCello, of HDR Exposed Photography, and I traveled up to get a good view of the city. Unfortunately it was windy, rainy and COLD. The wind was blowing the clouds across the sky very quickly and we knew that eventually an opening in the clouds may shine a beam of light onto downtown. At least that’s what we thought. In the distance, we saw a gap in the clouds and knew it was only a matter of time. We waited and waited, then waited some more. Finally the gap, now a tiny sliver, reached the city shining a singe ray of light on the the right side of this frame. It just missed the city. The wait was over, but at least we got some material to take away from our trip up to the overlook.

©2012 Zach Frailey