Panorama snow
412 creative works found
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Mist drifts through the ghostly shapes of the snow gums frame the delicate pink alpine flowers.
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Morning rainbow, Jokulsarlon, Iceland Iceland / Belgium / Italy / France / Hungary / Spain / Sri Lanka / USA / London / Portraits / Other Jokulsarlon is a glacial lake that meets the sea in Iceland. One of the most beautiful places i have been on our little planet Earth. The tragedy is that this beautiful photo would not be possible without global warming. When in a cafe at a petrol station i saw a postcard of Jokulsarlon. One single large iceberg floating in the centre. As you can see now the lake is full. Note: The size if this work was increased using Photoshop CS2. / Best size being around the 50cm wide.
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Taken from near Mt.Hotham, this panorama shows a lot of significant parts of the Victorian alpine region. The Razorback extending across the image to Mt.Feathertop just right of center. Mt.Buffalo in the distance on the far left under the rays of the late day sun, The Fainters in sunlight right of center, and Mt.Loch just behind the ski lifts. ~~ Show Image & Location On A Map / Browse Images by Category : Snow Landscape Nature
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The first light streaks down the snow covered summit ridge line of Mt Buller, a worthy reward for the hour walking in the snow to get there !
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A panorama I shot at the Silverstar ski resort in Canada. I’d love to go back there one day. Other images from Silverstar: Silverstar / Snow Shack / More winter images
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This is Moonlight Ridge at Mt Buller, some of our best out-of-bounds skiing and a magnificent view over the Howqua Valley. Other Landscapes ... More Mountains ... More Mt Buller ...
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A maze of snowgums in the Buller backcountry, stripped of their foliage by the bushfires last summer. Other Landscapes ... More Mountains ... More Mt Buller ...
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A 3 shot HDR Panorama of Lake Dillon, CO from the East side at sunset. It had snowed all the week before and the lake was iced over, reflecting the sunset beautifully.
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Since this is my most popular image I should say something about it… The location wasnt planned at all, I had just learned how to make these little planets from here: http://www.dpchallenge.com/image.php?IMAGE_ID=436459 and was in desperate need of something to photograph to try it out… so this is just the building across from my house and my parking lot :D
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X=pro info: Picture build by the orton-technique. and added blue layer and some blur.
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A winter panorama shot of the valley Valldal on the west coast of Norway, taken during the christmas holiday. Stitched together of 15 pictures. Post-processing: / Stitched some pictures together, obviously. Fixed the contrast with curves, added a lighter curve only on the lower part as the valley was pretty dark, and the mountain tops really light. Added two black and white layers set to hard light (140%), mainly on the sky and the mountain tops.
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BEST VIEWED LARGER / Australia is known for beaches,sand,heat deserts, but yes we do have snow. The season isnt long, but travel 3-4 south of Sydney or about the same north from Melboure you will come to the snowy mountains. Well they arent huge compared to other countries… but they do get cold. This is the land of The Man From Snowy River made famous in Australia by the Andrew Barton “Banjo” Patterson story…........ THERE was movement at the station, for the word had passed around / That the colt from old Regret had got away, / And had joined the wild bush horses — he was worth a thousand pound, / So all the cracks had gathered to the fray. / All the tried and noted riders from the stations near and far / Had mustered at the homestead overnight, / For the bushmen love hard riding where the wild bush horses are, / And the stock-horse snuffs the battle with delight. / There was Harrison, who made his pile when Pardon won the cup, / The old man with his hair as white as snow; / But few could ride beside him when his blood was fairly up— / He would go wherever horse and man could go. / And Clancy of the Overflow came down to lend a hand, / No better horseman ever held the reins; / For never horse could throw him while the saddle-girths would stand, / He learnt to ride while droving on the plains. And one was there, a stripling on a small and weedy beast, / He was something like a racehorse undersized, / With a touch of Timor pony—three parts thoroughbred at least— / And such as are by mountain horsemen prized. / He was hard and tough and wiry—just the sort that won’t say die— / There was courage in his quick impatient tread; / And he bore the badge of gameness in his bright and fiery eye, / And the proud and lofty carriage of his head. But still so slight and weedy, one would doubt his power to stay, / And the old man said, “That horse will never do / For a long and tiring gallop—lad, you’d better stop away, / Those hills are far too rough for such as you.” / So he waited sad and wistful—only Clancy stood his friend — / “I think we ought to let him come,” he said; / “I warrant he’ll be with us when he’s wanted at the end, / For both his horse and he are mountain bred. “He hails from Snowy River, up by Kosciusko’s side, / Where the hills are twice as steep and twice as rough, / Where a horse’s hoofs strike firelight from the flint stones every stride, / The man that holds his own is good enough. / And the Snowy River riders on the mountains make their home, / Where the river runs those giant hills between; / I have seen full many horsemen since I first commenced to roam, / But nowhere yet such horsemen have I seen.” So he went — they found the horses by the big mimosa clump — / They raced away towards the mountain’s brow, / And the old man gave his orders, ‘Boys, go at them from the jump, / No use to try for fancy riding now. / And, Clancy, you must wheel them, try and wheel them to the right. / Ride boldly, lad, and never fear the spills, / For never yet was rider that could keep the mob in sight, / If once they gain the shelter of those hills.’ So Clancy rode to wheel them—he was racing on the wing / Where the best and boldest riders take their place, / And he raced his stock-horse past them, and he made the ranges ring / With the stockwhip, as he met them face to face. / Then they halted for a moment, while he swung the dreaded lash, / But they saw their well-loved mountain full in view, / And they charged beneath the stockwhip with a sharp and sudden dash, / And off into the mountain scrub they flew. Then fast the horsemen followed, where the gorges deep and black / Resounded to the thunder of their tread, / And the stockwhips woke the echoes, and they fiercely answered back / From cliffs and crags that beetled overhead. / And upward, ever upward, the wild horses held their way, / Where mountain ash and kurrajong grew wide; / And the old man muttered fiercely, “We may bid the mob good day, / No man can hold them down the other side.” When they reached the mountain’s summit, even Clancy took a pull, / It well might make the boldest hold their breath, / The wild hop scrub grew thickly, and the hidden ground was full / Of wombat holes, and any slip was death. / But the man from Snowy River let the pony have his head, / And he swung his stockwhip round and gave a cheer, / And he raced him down the mountain like a torrent down its bed, / While the others stood and watched in very fear. He sent the flint stones flying, but the pony kept his feet, / He cleared the fallen timber in his stride, / And the man from Snowy River never shifted in his seat— / It was grand to see that mountain horseman ride. / Through the stringy barks and saplings, on the rough and broken ground, / Down the hillside at a racing pace he went; / And he never drew the bridle till he landed safe and sound, / At the bottom of that terrible descent. He was right among the horses as they climbed the further hill, / And the watchers on the mountain standing mute, / Saw him ply the stockwhip fiercely, he was right among them still, / As he raced across the clearing in pursuit. / Then they lost him for a moment, where two mountain gullies met / In the ranges, but a final glimpse reveals / On a dim and distant hillside the wild horses racing yet, / With the man from Snowy River at their heels. And he ran them single-handed till their sides were white with foam. / He followed like a bloodhound on their track, / Till they halted cowed and beaten, then he turned their heads for home, / And alone and unassisted brought them back. / But his hardy mountain pony he could scarcely raise a trot, / He was blood from hip to shoulder from the spur; / But his pluck was still undaunted, and his courage fiery hot, / For never yet was mountain horse a cur. And down by Kosciusko, where the pine-clad ridges raise / Their torn and rugged battlements on high, / Where the air is clear as crystal, and the white stars fairly blaze / At midnight in the cold and frosty sky, / And where around the Overflow the reedbeds sweep and sway / To the breezes, and the rolling plains are wide, / The man from Snowy River is a household word to-day, / And the stockmen tell the story of his ride
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What is it that I love about the mountains? Is it the shape, the one I remember I used to draw as a kid, the grandeur on such a scale that easily outsize anything ever made by man, or just the special kind of atmosphere that always seems to linger around these giants. This is a striking mountain. I couldn’t stop looking at it, and just like with a beautiful women, you seem to notice a new set of attractive details with each pass your eyes make. The light was soft, the sun generous but the clouds were restrictive, creating deep, strong and wide shadows. At the end it didn’t matter, only giving the whole sight a rich, painting like quality. Enough talking. Indulging in beauty is a hard job, I know that better than anyone, and the moment is perfect for a rest-stop. The usual muffin and a flat white would give me enough strength to push the release button until the day expires, but where? That’s an easy one – the mountain house on the slopes of the volcano, where else.
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A lone tree stands on the plains of Kiandra NSW
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Panorama – penguin colonies, cruise ship & tourists, Petermann Island, Antarctica
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From the high plains to the deserts – the Eucalyptus is botanically iconic to Australia. With over 700 species ranging from stunted shrubs in the arid regions to the tallest flowering plant on the planet, their diversity is as grand as their stature. Most species are not frost or cold tolerant (temps down to -5C) though there is one species that lives in the alps of the mainland affectionately known as the ’snow gum’. (Eucalyptus pauciflora ). Whilst three other cold tolerant species exist in the highlands of central Tasmania. Growing as woodlands or open woodlands from 1300m-1800m ASL in Tasmania,Victoria and New South Wales where they form the altitudinal limit of the tree line. The ’snow gum’ can become a gnarled old warrior as it eeks out an existance in poor soil with short growing seasons in harsh climates. Sometimes shedding bark revealing bright green,yellow or even orange-red under bark. It certainly makes for a brilliant dash of colour particularly in the snow. When in these alpine regions I often find it hard not to get ‘lost’ in their beauty and character and always find myself searching for those special individuals. Specimans with so much character that they speak for themselves. Available as large format fine art print or canvas for purchase HERE Fuji G617 – Velvia 50. / ©T.Middleton2008 bubblesite / photography blog / portfolio —-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—— / / see more of my TRUE panoramic photography by clicking on the image below / /
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A deep, yet bright blue glacial lake at the bottom of the valley topped by Mt Cook. Ebony 4×5 – 6×12 Back – 150mm Lens – Kodak E100GX
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Inspiration Point, Bryce Canyon National Park, Utah. / Pentax ist D Featured at the The Pentax Photo Gallery*
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Sunshine cannot bleach the snow, nor time unmake what poets know. Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882)
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Turn your face to the sun and the shadows fall behind you. Maori Proverb
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Hunter River, Newcastle, NSW, Oz.
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Beautiful ending of the day in my hometown… / —-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-——- / “End of the Day” is featured in the group – Natural Color and Light (04.03.2009) / “End of the Day” is featured in the group – Snow, Glorious Snow (12.03.2009) / “End of the Day” is voted as the winning entry of Winter Has Come challenge, Everyday Life group. / “End of the Day” is featured in the group – Colour and light (02.09.2009) / “End of the Day” is voted as the winning entry of the Great Outdoors challenge, JPG Cast-Offs group.
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Moonset at a winter morning, Bavaria, Germany. / (no manipulation – just contrast enhancements) / See the special formatted notecard /
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The Teton Range in autumn, captured in early morning from Signal Mountain at Grand Teton National Park in Wyoming. Gear/Settings : Nikon D300 – Nikkor 24-70 f2.8 ED lens – Circular Polarizer & Grad. ND Filter – Manfrotto Tripod and Ballhead with cable release. Settings: Manual Mode : 24mm – f16 at 1/8 second, ISO 100 All content & images © Stephen Vecchiotti. You may not use any images in any way without written consent from artist. All Rights Reserved.
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