Project 2022
219/365 Walking the miles of trails through Old Car City is at one moment a reverent trip though automotive history. Silence is everywhere, save for the crackling of leaves and sticks beneath your feet. Respectfully you explore one path or another among thousands of cars whose time have gone by. And in another moment you witness the slow decomposition of an industry. Tires flattened, glass shattered, metal twisted and now rusting to that common color of abandonment no matter what color it wore in a former life. GMC and Fords - all the same in their final days among a soft bed of Georgian pines.
Squirrel Hill, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
218/365 Winter is coming. As summer moves into our rearview mirror, day becomes more about night . Early morning dew turns to frost, edging flowers still in bloom. Color will fade and petals will fall. Seasons are changing…
Saquatucket Harbor, Harwich, Massachusetts
217/365 After dinner at a restaurant overlooking the Saquatucket Harbor, I strolled down to the docks for a look at the boats tied up for the night and which were brightly illuminated by the near-full Harvest Moon. The late summer waters were dead calm and provided a perfect and striking reflection of the local marina.
From the 9/11 Memorial ... New York City
254/365 On this day we remember. On this day we shed a tear for the thousands who were lost. And on this day we commemerate and honor their souls. Never forget… For a more complete collection of images of the 9/11 Memorial, go here: https://www.johnschillerphotography.com/Personal/2014/14-08-11-World-Trade-Center-Memo/
216/365 At once, the range was clear. It was almost humorous. Running through the labyrinth of buildings, portals, courtyards and graffiti, I stumbled on the resting place. I paused, taking in the moment. Two-wheelers lay at the ready - powerful 4-stroke motorcycles sitting quietly for once, shiny bicycles lashed in safety to immovable racks, and the littlest of bikes saddled up with training wheels. I laughed at the range, and then kept running.
215/365 On this early morning a star radiates over the Sea of Cortez, lighting the way to infinity. The gentle sands guard the warm sea waters, ready to welcome the day’s visitors, soon to arrive.
214/365 Feeding time at the Lady Brett! Frenzied pelicans gathered ‘round for a shot at some scraps, as the morning catch is cut and cleaned.
213/365 True to the many descriptions of this mid-Atlantic archipelago, São Miguel, the largest of the Azorean Islands, is lush with mountaintop farms and richly verdant lands. And it’s no wonder. Weather patterns dramatically change from sun and blue skies to rain and fog in such short distance across the island. As the wet weather clears on the island’s northside, Mother Nature signs her artistic work with her favorite signature, a double rainbow.
212/365 Say New Orleans. You hear music. You think French Quarter. You smell the Cajun food. I walk the back streets. I feel NOLA. The history. The culture. Especially the texture and color. And just a little worn out…
211/365 Cuba is a land of color and contrast. A lens into Cuba is mixed with a culture of music and dance, modern architecture mixed with urban decay, a feeling of the 40’s and 50’s, an often welcoming population, soft Caribbean color, simple living, struggling poverty, constrained lives and limited options.
210/365 Sometimes it pays to turn around. On this night, I went chasing sunsets along a two-lane highway miles into the desert west of Phoenix. The sun slipping in and around some distant hills when, for a moment I turned around. Behind me, late day clouds were moving across the desert when a burst of sun painted the trailer park across the road. Rising over the park, the smokey-looking clouds caught the setting sun's intense golden rays . As if not enough, a small rainbow reached from the low-hanging clouds to the ground. Yes, sometimes it pays to just turn around.
Klotz Silk Mill, Lonaconing, Maryland
209/365 Abandoned. Hundreds of empty spools that once held miles of golden silk, now cast aside, dumped in boxes, crammed into corners. Yesteryear’s silk mill, closed for nearly half a century, was once a part of America’s great textile manufacturing leadership. Shoes from Massachusetts. Rugs from Georgia. Silk from Maryland. Are those days gone forever? Brown is the color of abandonment.
208/365 Several times a year, ponies swim from Assateague Island to Chincoteague Island, a tradition that’s nearly 100 years old. Following the swim, a roundup is held to inoculate the pones and thin the herd by selling some of them. The book Misty of Chincoteague, written in the 40’s, brings the story of the ponies to life. On this day, a light rain washed the island casting an eerie mist over the woods and fields as the ponies sought refuge from their pursuers. In time, the cowboys caught up with the ponies, ultimately driving them into a waiting corral.
Enroute to a Jain Temple from Udaipur India
207/365 India is a country of enormous contrast and color, no matter what part you explore. From the slums of Mumbai to the high-tech communities of Bangalore, there is no version of life that is not experienced in India. Many times we were simply observers from our bus windows, passing through small towns, mountainous villages, bustling town squares, desert roads, or crowded highways. Other times, we were immersed in the chaos of the market, reverence of a temple, or simply in awe of whatever wonder was around us. On this day we were winding through narrow roads from Udaipur to a Jain Temple many hours into the mountains. Daily life passed us by - a elderly man in local garb walking with his camel, four family members riding on a single motor scooter, a group of young men gathered with their motor cycles… and a group of day workers clinging to the roof of a jeep as they headed off to wherever. Just a small taste of an enormous country….
Rock Harbor, Orleans, Massachusetts
206/365 Not long after low tide, the Cape’s bay waters reach back to shore quickly covering miles of exposed sand bars and tidal pools. The sun has already slipped over the horizon leaving the sky in a soft pastel pink, reflected in the rising waters. And within this painting, seven “clam trees” stand tall, marking the safe way home for the fisherman returning with their day’s catch. The “clam trees” are planted each year to provide safe navigation through the bay’s channel back to Rock Harbor. Local lore tells the story about how shell fisherman returning home deposit clams at the base of these trees. Nature takes hold providing ample harvest the following year. Hence the name - “clam trees”.
205/365 Light plays the most vital role in photography. It fundamentally defines what and how you see, and how you feel about an image. Shading, clarity, tone, color and texture are all impacted by light. Light defines a composition, sometimes in the most fundamental way. Such was the case in this window-framed self-image, crafted with shadow and bright light.
204/365 The City of Vilshofen is in Bavaria and sits along the Danube River in the southeast corner of Germany. Like so many other communities that overlook the Danube, they are rich in culture and color. While a small city of nearly 17,000, it shares a common name with Pittsburgh, PA - the Three River City. Like so many other cities that dot the Danube, the colors of Vilshofen are beautifully reflected in the quiet river as it floats by.
203/365 Color, light, patterns, texture - key elements of imagery. Autumn color infused the leaves as they drifted to the ground painting the forest floor. Mother Nature formed her own solitary composition: rich and varied in color; unique patterns randomly created; and shadow and detail highlighted as light passed through or glanced off the dense pile of leaves. Nature’s paintbrush hard at work to form a solitary texture you can feel and sense - a texture of change as the fall season sheds its colorful skin. Truly a gift from Mother Nature …
202/365 The Natchez Trace Parkway cuts a scenic swath through the South - from farmlands through wheat fields and heavily treed forests to, finally, the Mighty Miss. In a small rural town just south of Jackson Mississippi, mid-afternoon brings a warm October sun streaming though the treetops, lighting up the fall leaves and mottling the forest floor. The afternoon sun, filtered through the thick forest, creates its own soft, leaved texture. What a great way to eat up the roadway, a mile at a time.
201/365 A momentary glance out the window consumed my view with the color of summer. But something was different. There it was, frozen in motion among the flowers, reflecting the color from which it fed, drawing on the nectar of strength. The grace of a still hummingbird, and in an instant, it’s gone, darting about, to feed on the next source of color…
200/365 Drive along the backroads of middle Pennsylvania, and you’ll find a wide swath of aging America. Not far from Pennsylvania’s Grand Canyon, living among the overgrown grasses and broken fences just off the main road is one of many abandoned houses. A once active youth likely spent hours shooting hoops at the now broken backboard. And the porch roof today is thick with verdant moss from moisture-trapped tree debris piled up, year over year. The stories this old house must hold…
199/365 Under the cover of an intense summer sunset, and flying just off-shore, the pelican air force scours the coast for a late day meal.
198/365 Wall sitting, caught in mid-conversation, and complaining about the heat, no doubt, this great blue heron tries to air-dry and cool off. Or maybe he’s just trying to scare me off…