From a distance, the many hundreds of windmills throughout the Columbia River Gorge look like quaint sunflowers against the backdrop of grassy hills. Of course once you get near one, the quaintness is quickly replaced with awe for their size. Massive!
Like some noble yet stern golem- it’s sheer size blotting out the sun- a windmill keeps it’s vigilant watch over the countryside.
Windmills are a great resource. It’s so amazing to see hundreds upon hundreds of them congregating around the Columbia River Gorge… So many, and yet you almost can’t even hear them unless you’re standing really close. I have a tendency to look for faces in inanimate objects (That’s right- you know what to do, Googly Eye Kru!) and I couldn’t help but notice these hungry wheat/windmill faces all around…
Behind the little house in the canyon, a lone tree stands against the backdrop of a blue-grey sky, mid-trunk deep in a sea of prairie weeds. The grayed and brittle lichen-covered tree has a sort of quiet desperation about it; like the abandoned homestead, the tree is a victim of the elements that once nourished it. Just as the home, the tree still stands…it’s jagged and broken branches still reaching for the sky, in a futile (yet beautiful) plea for rain.
Another view of the hard-to-spot homestead, on approach. It was fascinating the way the “feel” of this place could change based on the angle, the position of the sun, or your proximity to it. Makes one wonder about the many memories those slowly deteriorating walls must hold, and the secrets they keep.
Another shot of the schoolhouse near Dufur, OR. There were a number of baby birds in some really delicate-looking nests in there, which was kind of amazing considering how windy it gets. And there aren’t any doors, so it’s pretty windy inside, too. This was shot with a Lensbaby Composer, which is why the focal plane looks so wild. I really love that lens, especially for work like this. You should check them out sometime, right here in Portland, OR. Tell Keri I said hi!