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The sun wasn't even contemplating turning from its slumber when I set off to meet my brother-in-law at Strathalbyn on a rather chilly Easter Monday. We threw our barely awake bodies into the front of my all-purpose jallopy and continued the eastbound trek to wherever the road took us; the drive to any unknown destination can be frought with danger, but when placed into a context that any five-year-old could understand (THIS IS FRIKKIN SOUTH AUSTRALIA, MATE) we had a feeling the gun-toting, axe-wielding psychopaths of outback movies such as Wolf Creek were probably still in bed recovering from an overdose of chocolate. And maybe the fresh slaughter of a pygmy possum.
We went as far as the road took us: the ferry at Wellington was being prepared for what would no doubt be a sleepy day for the solitary worker manning the ferry's flight path. We back tracked in search of a better vantage point from which to photograph what we asserted would be a sensational sunrise; the shapes in the sky were already promoting a bountiful variation of form. Kitted in gumboots and all of our equipment, we trudged down the nearest no through road. The chap who owned the shack nearest the bank of the Murray River on the left side of the road seemed ready to pounce when eye contact, and perhaps the sight of a tripod-not-a-shotgun, averted any forseeable disagreement. Wrong place, we thought. He never said nuthin', not even, 'You ain't from round here, are ya boys?'
Several yards down the road we saw the sign that we had been hoping to see: A boat and a trailer and a ramp. A brilliant deduction by the driver resulted in us finding the boat ramp. The dickhead with the clapper board exclaimed, 'Take two!'
Several cars lined the boat ramp on each side; several swags, each with at least one body inside, lined the ground next to each car. Voices whispered something inaudible. I thought I heard the word 'shotgun' so I produced my tripod and ponced around with it to ward off any evil spirits that the soused Easter revellers may have been under duress from.
We sat up and shot the living shit out of the sunrise. Take a look at the previous two entries if you think I'm a liar.
Anyway, that was then and this shot was much later. We had finished at the river and were on our way back towards a semblance of civilsation when I glanced to my right. 'What did ya see, Sash?' The ruin you see before you, thanks for asking. The only problem, as the sun's glorious rays lit the ruin up like a birthday cake, was that we had approximately 800m to run across the soft earth of farming land in order to get 'The Money Shot'. We missed that by about 2 minutes, arriving at the spot where we ought to have been in order to crown ourselves in self adulation just as the sun was disappearing behind the clouds which were by then spread across the entire planet (it would seem).
Anyway, long story shortened, I managed to take this and had the clarity of mind to shoot it thricely in order to convert the result into HDR. I like it because it has drama written all over it. And as we all know, Drama is Johnny's nickname on Entourage.
For the record, in case anyone is interested, this is MY LAST POST AT A-3. I'll be directing my photographic energy in the direction of my soon-to-be-published WEB SITE and, hopefully, getting a few more gigs around town as a wedding and portraiture photographer. Let's face it: I'm not getting that brand new 16-35mm Canon lens without the occasional wedding shoot, am I? Answer not for I knoweth the answer.
Thanks for your patronage, if you have been a patron, and thanks for your interest, if you've been interested.
PS Amy, is that more to what you're accustomed to?
PPS I'm really looking forward to shooting Anna and Albert's wedding tomorrow. :D
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