orange stack

“Haskins Point Painted Pink”

I was late for this sunset, just getting set up as the last bit of colour was fading away.
I only shot 88 photos, so there’s not a lot of movement in this time stack, but I think the colours are interesting.

“The Orange Wedge”

The orange glow of the setting sun lit up this storm after it passed and continued moving east while dropping a lot of water.  
I made this time stack by combining 256 photos into one image.

“Colour Wash”
This is 579 photos merged into one image using the lighten layer-blending mode in photoshop, automated with this script, advancedstacker.com I also faded in the first 19 photos with 5% increments of the layer opacity.
This shows just under 40 minutes of time in one image.

cute 2009 date hc

❣️ imagine the leaves on the trees turning orange as they fall down to land on the pavement softly.

❣️ imagine dan and phil jumping in stacks of orange on their way to one of the small local cafes.

❣️ imagine dan’s hobbit hair being out of control so he needed to put on a beanie.

❣️ imagine phil laughing at dan when he fixed his hair but the wind ruining it instantly.

❣️ imagine phil trying to find a chestnut the matched dan’s eyes.

❣️ imagine the two walking through the door and instantly getting hit by the soft smell of coffee and cookies.

❣️ imagine them sitting down in a little booth after ordering, phil taking a coffee and a cookie while dan took a hot chocolate and a brownie.

❣️ imagine phil telling dan to take his beanie off since they were inside, but he didn’t want to let his curly hair to be shown off more than it already was.

❣️ imagine phil reaching  over the table and taking it off and ruffling dan’s hair, making him groan as his hair somehow got worse, but phil really liked when dan didn’t straighten his hair.

❣️ imagine dan reaching under the table to grab phil’s hand.

❣️ imagine dan’s cheeks flushing a bright red when phil peeked his lips, but blaming in on the cold weather, instead.

“Upside Down Tequila Sunrise”
Another lovely sunset shot from my backyard. This is 286 photos merged into one image using the lighten layer-blending mode in photoshop, automated with this script advancedstacker.com
I also faded in the first 19 photos using 5% increments of the layer opacity.

     “My daddy was a tobacco farmer, and I was the only boy, so I started working when I was two years old. I worked from four in the morning until midnight, seven days a week, 365 days a year. I never went to school—daddy kept me home, and I worked all the time.
     “Then, when I was seven or eight, mama and daddy separated. Mama moved to Florida when I was nine, and I went and asked for a job stacking oranges at a pack house. The man said, ‘Boy, you ain’t four-foot tall, but you gotta stack the oranges six-foot tall. How the hell you gonna do that? You show me you can stack crates full of oranges five high, and I got a job for you.’ I said, ‘That ain’t no problem. Come on.’ I got me two orange crates. I put two crates here, and one right next to them. First step, I put the third crate home. The second step, I put the fourth and the fifth crates home. He just stood back and said, ‘You son of a gun. You got a job.’ I was nine years old. I worked a hundred hours a week, and made a dollar an hour. I gave mama the hundred dollars and she gave me five dollars a week. So I’ve been making money ever since I was knee-high to a grasshopper.
     “I picked up the guitar when I was 50. I worked a job every day, and when I got home, I played music at night. I learned all the songs I know by tape recorder—forwards and backwards, forwards and backwards, one verse at a time. I’ll never be without a job, and I’ll work until I die.”

Fort Collins, CO

“Into the Blue”
The world appears to turn blue as my little place on it is slowly engulfed in darkness while the last few clouds reflect the wavelengths from the opposite end of the spectrum.
I like how if the conditions are right, you get a nice balance of my favorite complimentary colours, blue with a splash of orange.

Sunn O)))’s Stephen O'Malley is elected president. Soon, his plan to pay citizens $15 for every hour that they sustain a dissonant chord is put in place. In time, the American people are walking the streets with belt clip amplifiers and Travis Bean guitars tuned to G, cities coated in a thick cloud of fuzz, the elite workers traversing with Orange stacks strapped to their back like some kind of Doom Atlas. Feedback becomes a national currency. A vote for O'Malley is a vote for drone.