Camping at Summer Lake Hot Spring, Oregon

By Neva Knott

I amble around the Pacific Northwest often. A recent Memorial Day, my friend Chandika and I took off on a suggestion from a coworker of mine to Summer Lake in Central/East Oregon. We stayed at the Hot Spring campground there; it’s a cool place–the owner has set up Airstream trailers as cabins and a tent area in a field. It was casual and friendly, so much so that he made us coffee in the morning, since we’d forgotten the French press.

These photographs were shot with my Holga plastic camera and film. If you’re not familiar with Holgas, the distortions and vignetting are part of the charm of the camera.

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Beachscapes at Fort Stevens, Astoria, Oregon

By Neva Knott

A photography teacher once quoted a famous photog, whose name I’ve now forgotten, stating that photography has nothing to do with the beach. I disagree. The place where the sky meets water and water meets land is magical, mysterious, and abundant of life.

Footsteps, Fort Stevens, Astoria OR

Fort Stevens, Astoria OR

End of the beach, Fort Stevens, Astoria WA

Sea Lions in Astoria, Oregon

By Neva Knott

Sea Lions resting on the docks in Astoria, Oregon. Most, if not all, of these are male California Sea Lions, distinguishable by their darker color and dog-like bark, according to Oregon Department of Fish and Wildlife. This is a charismatic species; these lounging and napping sea creatures draw an audience when they’re in town. And, they cause an uproar with Astoria’s citizens who use these docks–the sea lions are noisy, smelly, cause damage to the docks, and take up prime mooring space.

As a naturalist, I’m on the side of the sea lions. They come in for the smelt run and stay for the salmon run. What people don’t understand is this: when we take up wildlife habitat, they will “invade” our habitat.

Whale Bones Memorial, Newport, Oregon

By Neva Knott

For me, this memorial is a visual connective element between humans and the circle of life. The enormity of the whale reminds that we are not the primary species on the planet.

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Zihuatanejo Fishing Boats

By Neva Knott

Easter, 2011. I traveled to Zihuatanejo to spend nine days by myself on a beach. I wanted to hear another language. I wanted to feel a different culture. I was in graduate school and bartending and burned out. I stayed at a little place called Treetops in a little palapa of a cabin. I spent most of my days on a beach chair under a palm-front umbrella, reading and napping and watching the ocean roll along.

When I travel, I like to make photos that show the essence of the place, that narrate how life is lived there. While Zihuatanejo is just down the road from Ixtapa, a major tourist resort area, and is famous as the filming location of The Shawshank Redemption, it is also a fishing village.

Trees and Trash, Zihuatanejo, Mexico

By Neva Knott

Easter, 2011. I traveled to Zihuatanejo to spend nine days by myself on a beach. I wanted to hear another language. I wanted to feel a different culture. I was in graduate school and bartending and burned out. I stayed at a little place called Treetops in a little palapa of a cabin. I spent most of my days on a beach chair under a palm-front umbrella, reading and napping and watching the ocean roll along.

Every few days while in Zihuatanejo, I walked this mile-long dirt road from my beach cabin at TreeTops to get to the highway and bus-stop to go into town. The trash dumps under every tree stood in sharp contrast to the lush beauty of the flora. As with the tide-line trash I depicted in my previous post, this problem is not unique to Mexico.

This is my first sketch of an environmental photo story.

Tide-line and Trash, Zihuatanejo, Mexico

By Neva Knott

Easter, 2011. I traveled to Zihuatanejo to spend nine days by myself on a beach. I wanted to hear another language. I wanted to feel a different culture. I was in graduate school and bartending and burned out. I stayed at a little place called Treetops in a little palapa of a cabin. I spent most of my days on a beach chair under a palm-front umbrella, reading and napping and watching the ocean roll along.

Evenings, I walked the beach. One such evening, I followed the trash trail left by the last high tide and photographed it. The next morning the beach was clean again, the trash having been dragged into the sea. This problem is problem is not unique to Mexico–I found the same along the banks of the River Lee in Ireland when I ran there evenings in the summer of 2014.