|
| [Note Guidelines] Photographer's Note |
One of the treats of returning to my roots in Maine last week was getting to visit Portland Head Light, operational since 1789 and the world's most-photographed lighthouse.
I saw the birds in the upper right flying in formation and was delighted to find I'd successfully captured that moment in this special place. Admittedly, the sharpness was a bit of a challenge -- I saw the birds and had to grab a very quick shot (see notes on post-processing below).
The facts about the light have been posted here and elsewhere and are readily available, but I thought it would be fun to include the lines of Portland poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow -- written about and at a place that was also one of his favorites:
The rocky ledge runs far into the sea,
And on its outer point, some miles away,
The Lighthouse lifts its massive masonry,
A pillar of fire by night, of cloud by day.
Even at this distance I can see the tides,
Upheaving, break unheard along its base,
A speechless wrath, that rises and subsides
In the white lip and tremor of the face.
And as the evening darkens, lo! how bright,
Through the deep purple of the twilight air,
Beams forth the sudden radiance of its light
With strange, unearthly splendor in the glare!
Not one alone; from each projecting cape
And perilous reef along the ocean's verge,
Starts into life a dim, gigantic shape,
Holding its lantern o'er the restless surge.
Like the great giant Christopher it stands
Upon the brink of the tempestuous wave,
Wading far out among the rocks and sands,
The night-o'ertaken mariner to save.
And the great ships sail outward and return,
Bending and bowing o'er the billowy swells,
And ever joyful, as they see it burn,
They wave their silent welcomes and farewells.
They come forth from the darkness, and their sails
Gleam for a moment only in the blaze,
And eager faces, as the light unveils,
Gaze at the tower, and vanish while they gaze.
The mariner remembers when a child,
On his first voyage, he saw it fade and sink;
And when, returning from adventures wild,
He saw it rise again o'er ocean's brink.
Steadfast, serene, immovable, the same
Year after year, through all the silent night
Burns on forevermore that quenchless flame,
Shines on that inextinguishable light!
It sees the ocean to its bosom clasp
The rocks and sea-sand with the kiss of peace;
It sees the wild winds lift it in their grasp,
And hold it up, and shake it like a fleece.
The startled waves leap over it; the storm
Smites it with all the scourges of the rain,
And steadily against its solid form
Press the great shoulders of the hurricane.
The sea-bird wheeling round it, with the din
Of wings and winds and solitary cries,
Blinded and maddened by the light within,
Dashes himself against the glare, and dies.
A new Prometheus, chained upon the rock,
Still grasping in his hand the fire of Jove,
It does not hear the cry, nor heed the shock,
But hails the mariner with words of love.
"Sail on!" it says, "sail on, ye stately ships!
And with your floating bridge the ocean span;
Be mine to guard this light from all eclipse,
Be yours to bring man nearer unto man!"
****************
PP including ISO Noise Reduction and Sharpen in The Gimp, a levels correction, cropping, and final USM. |
shad0wjt, kbeall, Beger, Werewolf has marked this note useful
Only registered TrekLens members may rate photo notes. |
|
![Gold Star Critiquer/Gold Note Writer [C: 158 W: 1 N: 235]](http://i1.treklens.com/misc/g-n-g.gif){kind=small}
![Gold Star Critiquer/Gold Star Workshop Editor/Gold Note Writer [C: 531 W: 109 N: 902]](http://i1.treklens.com/misc/g-g-g.gif)
(3576)
![Silver Star Critiquer [C: 15 W: 0 N: 0]](http://i1.treklens.com/misc/s-n-n.gif)
(115)
I love that you captured this very poetic photo. It's like the lighthouse and the birds are a team, with the birds pointing the way to safety.
With the lack of sharpness, maybe BW would work?