Behind Tito’s Burritos. I oughta check out the inside of this place someday.
I don’t even know what those electrical thingies are called.
I didn’t like this photo so much when I initially took it, but it’s been growing on me.
Oh, and by the way: here’s the Wikipedia article about the Kearny Connection.
(“Rainbow Connection” has been going through my head while I’ve been pawing around the interwebs for info on the Kearny Connection. Arrrrgh.)
Fog is pretty!
About halfway through yesterday’s morning commute, I put down my book and stared out the window.
I didn’t see much. The fog was pretty dense, and visibility was maybe 100 yards. Barely anything I could take a picture of, if I’d wanted to.
We were lucky enough to pause directly under I-95. It’s one of my favorite scenes from NJ Transit anyway (I have low standards), but it looks awesome in fog.
At some point, I had aspirations of compiling a photo project titled “Scenes from New Jersey Transit.” It would be a collection of photos of New Jersey, all taken from the windows of New Jersey Transit cars. You’d behold the beauty of New Jersey! You’d enjoy the limitations of photos taken through smudgy green-tinted train windows! You’d laugh! You’d cry!
You’d… roll your eyes at another amateur trying to make her mark on the world with sub-par photography?
I don’t know that the project will ever be appealing to anyone but me, but it is a bit of ongoing self-indulgent fun.
This one, of Newark, shot from the North Jersey Coast Line, is from November 2011. I’m a little out-of-date, but I imagine the scenery hasn’t changed that much in the past year.
Just some kinda catwalk over the train tracks at Summit.
…I’ve really been overprocessing my photos lately. I’ll probably get bored of it soon, don’t worry.
…I guess this is as good a place as any to mention that my internet is nonexistent during the summer, so I can more-or-less only schedule posts and look at your blog(s) when I use the WiFi at my local public library. I can barely keep up with my own posts, and I apologize for being less polite/ social/ blog-visiting-y than usual.
You’re awesome for looking at this blog anyway. Thank you.
I was pretty intrigued by how to treat this shot. It would’ve been a perfect opportunity for HDR imaging… if my camera shot RAW, and if I had the software to process HDR, and if I’d had a tripod with me.
I ended up cutting and pasting and compositing these two images by hand, which required INCREDIBLE PATIENCE (I am not patient). If you get close to the final image, it doesn’t hold up at all at full resolution. But seriously, who cares?
The Campbell’s Pond pumping station has been neglected and gutted by fires for at least half a century, as far as I can tell.
Maybe these springs used to help support the roof; the springs are down, but the roof is still up (barely).
…For legal purposes, I only admit to having entered the pumping station once, in June, when the door was wide open. Currently, there’s a pesky fence around most of the building, so any goofball who breached this shiny new fence would not be able to use the innocent “but the door was open” excuse. Therefore, I must have taken these pictures in June.
This is outside of my New Providence radius, and it’s blurry and grainy and unprofessional, but it’s still New Jersey and I like it.
I wouldn’t want to live in the Meadowlands, but it’s interesting to watch the quiet stalemate between man and nature. It’s a very industrial area, since it’s right outside of New York City, but it’s very swampy and impossible to really develop. There are wide swaths of swampgrass and rivers and wildflowers, peppered with abandoned factories and smokestacks here and there. Most days, I see snowy egrets hanging out by the railroad tracks.
Every day when I take the train into Manhattan, I get to see some variation of this scene. I still think this area, where I-95 splits around the Hackensack River, is one of the most beautiful parts.
Maybe the local florists decided to wedge a plush crab between two air conditioners because the top one was dripping onto the metal surface of the bottom one, and the sound was driving them crazy, and the florists were like “look, I have this stuffed crab, it would be perfect for catching drips,” and Miss Yellow Crab ended up hanging out in an alley in Summit.
Or, more likely, Miss Yellow Crab was like “whoa, this is a totally comfortable spot, I think I am going to take up residence here for no obvious reason,” and that was that.