Loaded, Colorful Outtakes

Sunset over Dias Islet, Kefalonia

Decisions, decisions!

Before the ink had a chance to dry (*) on the first photo stories I prepared for the KefaloniaWorld e-Magazine, an unrelenting dilemma surfaced. What do I include and what do I leave out?

Despite the plethora of images available—a result of years' worth of roaming on Kefalonia with a camera strapped around my neck—the problem is not quantity but qualitaty. Take sunsets, for example; I have hundreds of images that I could use. But some of my better sunset images, photographically-wise,  do not mean that much to me.
There, I've said it!
Let me explain.

 My photo safaris

Sometimes I went about my quest with a purpose in mind, correct settings on the camera, time to spare, and conscious choice of location and time so they'd be advantageous in terms of light and sky conditions.

So, I do have heaps of "semi-correct" (**) sundown images. On the other hand, sometimes I was just impelled to point the camera at the horizon and press the shutter button without addressing suitability of lens, settings, or position.

But Kefalonia does that to you.

You may be on the road driving—or occupied photographing sea shells, e.t.c.,—but if you lift or divert your glance from the task at hand, you are overwhelmed by colors, shapes, and light formations that developed while your attention was focused elsewhere.

Then, you act on feeling and instinct rather than on plan. And though the images that result are not picture-perfect, they are loaded with memories of those moments and stories that are hard to put into words.

Like these outtakes... which will probably never make it to the website; I'll keep them to share here.

Case in point: Top photo was taken from Avythos Beach on an afternoon dedicated to collecting pebbles and sea shells since the approaching sunset and sky seemed to be dull, monochromatic, and otherwise uninteresting.

Sunset over Paliki Peninsula

More: Photo above was taken from Gradakia Beach, while in the car, listening to music and daydreaming to kill time, waiting for the full moon to rise in the evening sky.

Sunset over Livatho

The shenanigans of Kefalonian light

Eyes on the road! That is the wise thing to do if you're driving on the Poros-Argostoli road, and not just in the afternoon!

But as you drive through the villages of Simotata and Vlahata, you should always be prepared. For me that translates into quick recollection of every widening and clearing along the road, and the camera placed on the passenger seat.

No need to worry about lens selection or current settings.
The island's insane light will do all the exposure compensation ever required.

(*)  Although old enough to have used plain paper and ink, I do really mean "before I could save the .doc file on my computer screen" —but it just doesn't look or sound as good as ink drying on the page!
(**) I will never aspire for more than "semi-correct" —lest I fall into the popular trap of shooting or post-processing photos to such correctness that they no longer resemble the island. You know what I mean 😉

Wrong Place, Right Time

Sundown in Southeastern Kefalonia

Kefalonia gets away with quite a lot that other places could not. 

For example, take sunsets. In most places you'd have to be facing west to enjoy the spectacular colors of the sun calling it a day. You'd have to rush to be at the right place at the right time. 

In Kefalonia, however, all you need to address is the issue of time—the right time. Everything else just seems to fall into place, color, texture, and mood.

Poros, Kefalonia (Ithaca Island on the left)

Poros, Kefalonia

Reeling Them in Against the Tide

Against the tide, against all odds!
It was a rough week for this island because it has been an extremely rough week for this country. 

Avythos Beach, Kefalonia

I've captured many colors, shapes and textures this past week—aided by the moody weather, wind, and clouds. But none as symbolic as the scenes of the lone fisherman matching wits with the fish swimming against the tide.

Winter's catch (Avythos)

Don't ask which is which in the symbolism. Suffice it to say that, despite the outcome, both will have had their moment of triumph under the caressing sun rays, which serve to deceitfully compensate for the rough seas and turbulent times.

It is a game of patience, perseverance, and the will to survive. Time will tell.
It may even turn out that the tide is cathartic for both man and fish.

Lourdas Beach, Kefalonia

Seagoing Felines

Yes, I'm a member of their fan club. Would they pose for me otherwise?

Avythos Beach is more than place, it's a state of being. Strangely enough, it is not my favorite beach for swimming though it is absolutely gorgeous in the summer. The swimmer in me seems to have bonded over the years with the pebbles of Skala. 

Avythos Beach, Kefalonia

That aside, Avythos is my favorite year-round escape; it is  so incredibly dependable.
Now, that is a strange word to use in describing a place that is different every time, but let me explain.

It is dependable in that it will never disappoint you: be it with crashing or gentle waves; in sunshine or storm; with flawless sand or the occasional pebbles; with a spotless ceiling or overcast skies.

And, of course, on days when the northwestern wind rules, Avythos becomes a huge canvas for the "god among winds" to have a field day painting it in all shades of blue.
Blue in tiers and strips, in blotches and swirls.

And offshore, Dias Islet serves as a pivot point around which colors and shapes are formed.

But the most dependable and adorable given on Avythos are the cats that actually live there year-round. They are well-fed by beach regulars and are true extroverts.
They'll nudge and cajole, in the most imaginative ways, till they turn you into a regular meal provider.

 I know because I've become a subscriber to their charm!

Avythos beauty, in the landscape and on four legs!

The cats of Avythos Beach, Kefalonia

Cats rule... any objections?

Our Honored Guest, Mr. Roy G. Biv

Rainbow over Kokkylia, Kefalonia

 Few natural phenomena are as universally admired as rainbows.

Those unbelievable arches of color-tinted light, filling up the sky after a rainfall, are the material legends and fairy tales are made of.

Hope, optimism, good tidings, and luck are just some of the words frequently attached to any description of rainbows.

Of course, the prerequisite conditions for the formation of rainbows are better left to be explained by those more scientifically inclined than yours truly. (Something to do with the interaction of light, raindrops and sun rays, but physics was never my strong suit).

There are seven spectacular colors distinctly visible to the human eye, and they appear in a specific order (reversed on the top rainbow, if there are two).

Remembering the order of the colors is easy thanks to an ingenious mnemonic device. All you have to do is remember the name of a most respectable gentleman: Roy G. Biv. 
(RedOrangeYellow Green BlueIndigoViolet).

Rumor has it that his permanent residence is ...over the rainbow. Though he is of undeclared profession, I'd say that he is eternally committed to carrying that pot of gold from one side of his residence to the other with such speed as to confuse the seekers and, thus, perpetuate the search!

Rainbow over St. George's Fortress, Kefalonia

Shifting Positions to Catch a Sunrise

If I ran a poll on which part of the day people find most attractive, there's no doubt that the results would come back with a predictable answer: "but the sunset, of course."

That said, I will not run such a poll, at least not before I attempt to persuade you that the crown jewel of the day is the Almighty Sunrise!

Sunrise viewed from Mt. Aenos, Kefalonia

Sunrise reflected on the sea of Lourdas Bay, Kefalonia

Sunrise on the Hills

❝ I stood upon the hills, when heaven's wide arch
Was glorious with the sun's returning march,
And woods were brightened, and soft gales
Went forth to kiss the sun-clad vales.
The clouds were far beneath me; bathed in light,
They gathered mid-way round the wooded height,
And, in their fading glory, shone
Like hosts in battle overthrown. ❞

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Note: the campaign of persuasion has just begun.

Be Quiet, There's a Full Moon Arising

Full moon over Mt. Aenos, Kefalonia - St. George's Fortress in the foreground

It is one of those moments when silence is clearly indicated...

Improving the Effectiveness of Adjectives

Cloudy sky @Poros, Kefalonia

The adjective is a fascinating part of speech—a descriptive word used to "qualify" the dull nature of nouns. It is usually efficient in sentence formation and completeness, though not always effective.

What do I mean?
Take, for example, the adjective in the phrase "a cloudy sky."  It is efficient in qualifying the sky as having clouds. But, how effective is that qualification in actually visualizing the sky? Would you go out of your way to view a cloudy sky? Would you enjoy it if you did? Well, it all depends...
Take a chance.  

After all, it may even help your syntax as you'll learn to use more effective, double-adjective sentences.

A storm gathering over Poros, Kefalonia

After the storm @Poros, Kefalonia

Poros, Kefalonia

Vessels of varying sizes but equal significance at Poros, Kefalonia

'Twas the Day Before Christmas and the Wind Blew from the North

View from Kefalonia to the Peloponnese

Few days are as clear, crisp, and colorful as those "blessed" by a northern wind. Minute details come into sharp focus and the muted winter horizon becomes clearly defined.

Neighboring islands, conveniently blurred by the seasonal mist, come out of hiding. On days like these, part of mainland Peloponnese pops up and is easily mistaken as the northern part of Zakynthos (Zante), our island neighbor to the south.

Quick changing cloud formations provide interesting backgrounds for otherwise depressing, bare trees. The sun's rays peek and pierce grey clouds to reach the sea surface as bright strobe lights.

Yes, all looks picture perfect, but is it?
Yes, there is a catch to this scenario.

The same northern winds that paint the sky and sea so creatively do not arrive without baggage. Their load is white, fluffy, and cold.
If you turn around and look at the backbone of Kefalonia, Mt. Aenos, you can see it "unpacking" with mischievous intent.

Then you know that this is going to be a white Christmas.
(And, it was!)

(to be continued)

One of Kefalonia's crisp winter days

It's snowing on Mt. Aenos, Kefalonia

Mt. Aenos, Kefalonia

Kefalonia in Winter Mode: Slate Skies and Foamy Seas

Stormy Seas at Trapezaki, Kefalonia

It doesn't happen too often, but it does...
Writer's Block...
Fortunately, I can always rely on the Master to bail me out...

❝ Blow, blow, thou winter wind
Thou art not so unkind
As man's ingratitude;
Thy tooth is not so keen,
Because thou art not seen,
Although thy breath be rude. ❞

Blow, Blow, Thou Winter Wind  (William Shakespeare)

 

Winter sunset at Trapezaki, Kefalonia

Lourdas Bay, Kefalonia

Solar Tug-o-War

The sunset over Argostoli, Kefalonia

On opposite sides of the bay, each town does its best to perpetuate the legendary rivalry. And if Argostoli seems to have a tangible advantage—being the capital, and all—Lixouri has the absolute last word each and every day of the year.

The sun certainly does drench the capital with golden light as it goes down, but it is over Lixouri that it lingers and shows off before calling it a day.

That is the "western advantage."

The sunset over Lixouri, Kefalonia

Pursuit of Happiness in Turbulent Times

There are no two ways about it. The "Greek Crisis" lurks on everyone's mind, both in the country and abroad. 
Sheltered as we are here on the island—mainly due to the distance from Athens—it nevertheless weighs on our minds and daily life. 

November sunset at Avythos Beach, Kefalonia

It isn't within the scope of this blog to analyze the situation or offer an opinion on the turmoil that Greece is going through.
Of course we feel the strain.
Yes, it is depressing.
Sure, there is uncertainty—fear even—in contemplating the future.

But we truly are luckier than people in the rest of the country. At least, I feel that way. Blessed with so much beauty around me, I never fail to find a spot of total serenity, a place where I can let my worries dissolve like the gentle wave that breaks into soft white foam on the beach. Even if it's only for an instant.

Going back to basics, to the land, to reconnecting with friends, to reestablishing social bonds, to participating in traditional activities— that is all part of the plan to get from here to there in troubled times.

Who knows, maybe we will come out of this stronger, friendlier, healthier, and, happier in having discovered the substance of things and having reordered our priorities.

Though reserved, I'm optimistic.


Note:  I spent the last two days with friends at an olive grove (it's olive picking season). There was more genuine laughter, camaraderie and all around good fun than I've experienced in years. In coming posts, I'll share my little endeavors in the quest of bliss amidst troubled times.)

Location Plus Time, Give or Take 45 Minutes

The phases and colors of an early October sunset.
Geography and a 45 min. span make all the difference!

Skala at sundown

 Photo above:  Skala Beach at 5:51 pm.

October sunset

Photo above: Leaving Skala and heading towards Ratzakli at 6:05 pm.

Sundown over Katelios

At 6:15 pm: As the sun has just set, the soft twilight colors that precede dusk, wrap Katelios in purple and violet ambience. True serenity. (photo above)

Kefalonia dressed in golden orange hues as twilight transitions to dusk

At 6:34 pm:  Roadside, over Sissia Monastery, overlooking Lourdas Bay and St. George's Fortress to the rear right. Orange rules! (photo above)

The soft colors of another day gone  (Sissia Intersection)

At 6:36 pm: Roadside, over Sissia Monastery, looking to the left, everything is in its right place—the shrine, the moon, the clouds, the purples, the reds, the gold...
(photo above)

September's Warm Summer Sun

Argostoli Bay with St. George's Fortress in the background

The calm after the storm...
All "systems" are restored...

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯Warm Summer Sun⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Warm summer sun,
Shine kindly here,
Warm southern wind,
Blow softly here.
Green sod above,
Lie light, lie light.
Good night, dear heart,
Good night, good night.
⎯⎯⎯MARK TWAIN⎯⎯⎯

Illusion is Reality in Kefalonia Sunsets

Dias Islet, Kefalonia

While true to my fundamental principle of "uncut and unedited" photos, sometimes I like to play around with camera settings and software. 

On this occasion, either the top photo had its sunset orange cast removed, or the bottom photo was "enriched" with saturated hues and taken with a polarizing lens. 

I won't tell, you decide which is illusion and which is reality! 

Or, better yet, choose the setting you'd prefer to be reality if you happened to be the one daydreaming at day's end at Avythos Beach...

Dias Islet, Kefalonia

Hint: if you are familiar with wind conditions, all you have to do is look at the cloud formations and the cresting wave... But, why take the fun out of it?

To Every Thing There is a Season, With or Without a Reason

September Sunrise

❝ September morn
We danced until the night became a brand new day— ❞

There is a delusional continuity that bridges August into September, Summer into Fall, carefree days into routine-laden weeks and months.

Nothing is obvious about this transition—not in the temperature, the sky, nor the sea.

Were it not for some subtle changes in the tale-telling horizon, September would creep up on us without further ado.

But subtle as they may be, the signs are there.
Dawn is a bit more hazy, the sun rises crowned by indecisive clouds, and the sky takes on a warmer hue for the occasion.

No, Summer is by no means over.
But Fall is here, nevertheless...

I Must Go, and You Should Also

Shrine overlooking Paliolinos, Kefalonia

Paliolinos, Kefalonia

Sea Fever
❝ I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky—

I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying. ❞

John Masefield

(written when he was 22!)

Kefalonia Sky Art (cont'd)

Kefalonia Sunsets

Shapes and colors in place of words...

The Old Man and the Sea, Revisited

Fishing near Dias Islet, Kefalonia

His name is not Santiago, I'm sure of that.
Yiannis, Niko, Makis, Giorgos, or Andreas are more sensible possibilities.

His companion is probably his wife, and she is certainly not named Manolin.

On this outing, he will, with some luck, pull in some sea bass, not a marlin.

No sharks will follow him to claim his catch, so he will not have to fend them off with the oar.

And, he is definitely not out paddling on the choppy waters of the Gulf Stream. No, these are the deep but familiar waters of the tiny, by comparison, Ionian Sea—in the vicinity of Dias Islet, off the southern coast of Kefalonia.

But sitting on the wet sand of Avythos Beach in late November, waiting for the sunset to paint the sky, I cannot but make the far-fetched connection.
Taking it a step further, I can even "see" the determination on his face.

And then, reality checks in.

Hemingway's classic novel

When he notices the lone figure on the beach—and the long zoom lens pointed at him—he nudges his companion to turn around and see the invader. They both look to the shore, take a bow, and wave.
I wave back and return to the task at hand.

So much for Hemingway today.