Vote for your Favorite in 2009 Photo Contest

The photos in my second ANNUAL PHOTO CONTEST are all worthy and represent distinctly different types of photography. Please take a moment to view them all and then cast a vote for your favorite using the quick and simple poll feature in the lefthand column of this blog. Remember this contest is different from most since you, my blog readers, act as judges instead of an industry expert. Pass the word to every photo lover you know. Good luck everyone!

2009 Photo Contest

It's time to comb through your photos and pick the best one to enter in Molly Ahearn's 2009 Photo Contest. Remember, it's not judged in the usual way by a photography professional, but is selected by popular vote of my blog readers. Last year there were many, many beautiful images making the vote a very close one. For complete rules and instructions, check my website.

Last year's winning photograph was taken by Nadine Robbins.

The second place winner was: Dave Clarke of Scotland with an outstanding black-and-white image.


The third place winner was: Tracy Sofka of Poughkeepsie. Gorgeous blue jewels.

Insider's Look: Jumper

My Photo Stories
Swimming in the crystal-clear lake was strictly forbidden, but after a 5-mile run Anna didn’t care.
Or…
After losing his job and then his wife all in one day, Alexander wondered if a belly flop off the 60-foot drop would put him out of his misery.
Or…
Upon awakening from a sun nap on the warm October rocks, Sally saw the line of fire ants marching into her shirt.
Or…what are your story ideas?

Behind the Photo
The water in the lake at Minnewaska State Park is crystal clear. Some strange chemical combination prevents any life from enjoying its beauty. Once, I took a photograph half below the water here and half above for the cover of a publication printed by the Cary Institute of Ecosystem Studies.

Be the first to buy a Jumper print and get a 50% discount on the size of your choice. This is my August 2009 home page photo, part of my Truths, Lies and Legends collection.

Insider's Look: New Beginnings

My Photo Stories
Richard chased Susannah laughing through the field below the orchard; unable to wait, he ripped off her dress.
Or…
She thought of him leaving with that young woman as she angrily threw every object in the house reminding her of their 30-year marriage into the back field.
Or…
After her last daughter chose not to wear the silk wedding gown she’d so lovingly saved, Esther gave it to her granddaughter to wear around the house.Or…what are your story ideas?

Behind the Photo
My friend Nadine Robbins loaned me her wedding dress for this shot. The orchard is very close to my home and I always enjoy the burst of flowering trees early in the spring. They should be blooming soon!

Be the first to buy a New Beginnings print and get a 50% discount on the size of your choice. This is my March 2009 home page photo, part of my Truths, Lies and Legends collection.

Insider's Look: Prayer for Minnewaska

My Photo Stories
The sky, gray in sympathy, looked on as Indian maiden Minnewaska laid down mountain laurel in memory of her lost child.
Or…
As part of a full moon, equinox ceremony, the group of seven witches conducted a purification spell to purge the land of negative energy.
Or…
His first day on the job, Park Ranger Rob Gaston was horrified to see flames consuming the trees like matchsticks.
Or…what are your story ideas?

Behind the Photo
Last April a brush fire burned more than 3000 acres of forest in Minnewaska State Park. It has been one of my favorite places to hike and photograph since moving to this area. I was greatly saddened to see the charred remains of old growth forest.

Be the first to buy a Prayer for Minnewaska print and get a 50% discount on the size of your choice. This is my February 2009 home page photo, part of my Truths, Lies and Legends collection.

Insider's Look: Color Boxes

My Photo Stories
To Sarah’s complete delight, Santa left her the slim and sleek flip video camera she’d longed to receive for Christmas.

Or…

After sitting on the window seat in the Walkers’ living room, their interior decorator sketched a color palette for their newborn son’s room.

Or…

Andrew, diagnosed with autism at age two, feels better when things are organized.

Or…what are your story ideas?

Behind the Photo
Fall in the Hudson Valley bursts with crisp color. From this clearing on Sunset Hill in Clinton, you can just make out the Catskills in the distance.

Be the first to buy a Color Boxes print and get a 50% discount on the size of your choice. This is my January 2009 home page photo, part of my Truths, Lies and Legends collection.

2008 Photo Contest Winner

As a way to highlight the work of other photographers, I started a photo contest on my website this year. Instead of being judged in the traditional way by one judge, the winner of my contest was selected by visitors to my site, blog and anyone else who heard about it. The work was of a very high caliber and extremely varied. Congratulations to all 20 photographers! It's not too early to start thinking about the 2009 contest. Keep checking my site for details.

The winning photograph was taken by Nadine Robbins! A Tribute to Norman Rockwell.

The second place winner was: Dave Clarke of Scotland with an outstanding black-and-white image.


The third place winner was: Tracy Sofka of Poughkeepsie! Gorgeous blue jewels.

Vote on Best Photo of 2008

As a way to spotlight other photographers, I started a photo competition on my web site this year. Twenty submitted images. All of them are contenders. Instead of asking a professional photographer to judge, I'm asking all of you to vote on the best of 2008. Simply follow the instructions. You will have a chance to see all of the images from inside the survey.

Insider's Look: First Move

My Photo Stories
A dapper young Irving awoke after death amidst the ruins of the Overlook Mountain House with nothing but the memory of chess to amuse him.

Or…

Webelos scout Brian had no regard for the nature around him, nor his leaders, sullenly setting up his pocket chess set, when all of a sudden…

Or…

The perfect crime is a debatable achievement, but chess champion Ivan Ropovich was looking for a challenge.

Or…what are your story ideas?

Behind the Photo
The ruins of this hotel are slowly crumbling near the top of Overlook Mountain in Woodstock. Hikers who can withstand the 2-mile-or-so steep uphill climb can wander through its main hall and peer into the depths of the once splendid guest rooms. The Miss Haversham in me sees the fountain spouting ice-cold mountain water and lush gardens welcoming tourists. An unfortunate fate met all three hotels on this site. The first two burned to the ground; one on April Fool’s Day. As a result, an enterprising businessman decided to use concrete for the third, the one pictured in my photo. He ran out of money before completing it.

Be the first to buy a First Move print and get a 50% discount on the size of your choice. This is my December home page photo, part of my Truths, Lies and Legends collection

Last Chance to Enter Photo Contest

Procrastinators, listen up! The deadline for my online photo contest is fast approaching. You need to email your images to me by midnight on November 30 to be eligible. Check my web site for complete instructions. Don't put it off any longer—send your image today!

Insider's Look: Table for One—Steak Anybody?

Readers of my blog get the first look at my new home page photo every month. This photo is part of my Truths, Lies and Legends collection. I begin with a spectacular natural setting. Then, I interfere. I place something in the frame giving the impression that a person has been there recently. My interfering in this way transforms a photographic landscape into the set of an unfolding story. My intention is to involve the viewer as storyteller. To get ideas flowing, I offer a few storylines of my own.

My Story Offerings:
Upon reading of how the cow, Emily (the Vegetarian Activist), escaped from a slaughterhouse, Marissa set up a roadside display to make passersby think twice about steak for dinner.
Or…
A line of curious Angus proved their true nature to be carnivorous as they strained their necks through the fence to taste the raw meat.
Or…
After retirement, Bob developed an odd friendship with his neighbor’s cow Bessie.
Or…what are your story ideas?

Story Behind the Shot
The craziest thing happened while I was doing this shot. I live across from this farm where they raise both Angus cattle (beef) and dairy cows. At least 3 times a week I walk by both kinds of cows and have noticed that the dairy cows are always curious about people and the Angus flee as soon as you approach. Who says cows are dumb? Anyway, when I set up the table with the steak, the Angus cows overcame their fear. They formed a tentative line (that you see in the photo) and then slowly and carefully walked right up to the fence—with me standing right there—and tried to eat that steak!

Be the first to buy a Table for One print and get a 50% discount on the size of your choice.

Insider's Look: Space Shuttle

Readers of my blog get the first look at my new home page photo every month. This is another in my Americana collection.

The space race was on at full tilt when I was in Mrs. Clark’s sixth grade class. I remember her wheeling in a television to watch one of the launches. So much promise, so much pride. Where has all that American ambition gone?

Be the first to buy a Space Shuttle print and get a 50% discount on the size of your choice.

Rodeo Cowgirl Show at Millbrook Vineyards

The Dutchess County Arts Council selects artists to participate in the Art in the Loft series at Millbrook Vineyards. I’m proud and honored to let you know that I was chosen to be part of a two-person show in the fall. The other artist, Jose Acosta, is an oil painter who paints with the spectacular palette of his Cuban background. I’ll be mostly showing black-and-white photos from my rodeo cowgirls collection, although I’m sneaking in a few color shots from my Americana series. The exhibit runs from September 1 through November 10.

Don’t miss the opening reception Saturday, September 13 from 4:30 to 6:30 pm. Award-winning Millbrook wine and hors d'oeuvres will be served. The winery sits atop a hill with its fields of grapes below, a stunning view of the nearby hills all around. It’s a beautiful spot to be on a fall afternoon. The Millbrook Vineyard is located at 26 Wing Road in Millbrook, NY.

Mark your calendars now. If you want to stay overnight, make a
reservation soon because September is a busy time in the valley.

See you there!

Insider's Look: Super Hero Tank

Readers of my blog get the first look at my new home page photo every month. This is another in my Americana collection.

I shot this photo during the 1991 Desert Storm parade. A belated salute to
the men and women who served, the parade was a serious affair. That's what
puzzled me even then. What in the world is a super hero doing on the back of this
tank?

Be the first to buy a Super Hero Tank print and get a 50% discount on the size of your choice.

Send Your Best Photo

Whatever you see this summer—a painted sunset of the dock on the bay, morning dew on a delicate orchid, out-of control white water rafting on the Colorado, or barbecuing ribs on your backyard grill, frosted beer in hand—keep my photo contest in mind. I want you to enter the best of your best. Entries due by November 30, winners to be judged by visitors to my blog during the month of December. Check my site for full details.

Denali: Killer Peak or Gentle Giant?

As I was looking through images to send to Photoshelter.com, I relived our flight over Mt. McKinley last summer and thought I'd share another day from my Alaska journal.

August 10, 2007. A good night’s sleep, a shower, couple loads of laundry were medicine for the soul. My original plan for coming to the South side of Denali National Park was to participate in some of the commercial activities—whitewater rafting, flightseeing, airboat rides. At the tour desk they told us there is no whitewater only flat, slow rivers which never interest Bill. The flightseeing prices are steep. We hemmed and hawed. The sky was as clear and blue as a fall day in New England. If we were going to fly, today was the day to do it.

I interviewed by phone every tour company and got a good feeling from Alaska Bush Air. They fly float planes from a picturesque lake we’d seen on the Talkeetna Spur Road. The woman’s name was Molly and compared to all the others her prices were reasonable for a two-hour tour of Denali with a landing on a glacier lake.

The office is a log cabin with a roof made of grass. Molly showed us the flight plan on a topo map. It took Bill and I two seconds to decide to go for the full two-hour ride. We grabbed coats, binos and cameras. Molly introduced us to Jason, our pilot. The takeoff was so smooth we didn’t notice we were off the ground. Bill was delighted to ride ‘right seat.’ Ryley and I were cozy in back, looking out over-sized windows. Ryley loved talking into the mic on his yellow headset. In season Talkeetna is the busiest private airport in the United States, but there is no control tower to keep track of all the traffic. Pilots calmly announce flight plans and key location marks to each other.



First, we flew over the Susitna River valley, its silty waters still high from yesterday’s torrential rain, its banks lined with spruce trees. We saw many lakes and wetlands. From the back seat we couldn’t track our approach to the mountains, so we didn’t realize we were there until the Tokositnas were beneath us and all around us. We followed the Ruth Glacier straight into Denali’s belly. Our steady craft travelled only a couple hundred feet above craggy peaks and glaciers, crevice-filled with the late summer heat. Little pools of aquamarine glistened like rock candy. This is a vast, desolate and intimidating place. Denali means the Great One in the Athabasca language. Seeing it from this vantage point, it is easy to understand why they deem it holy. We banked so close to a granite wall Ryley exclaimed, “I can see the texture of the rock!” Don Sheldon’s amphitheater is the bowl-like base camp. Climbing season over, it was abandoned, only the faintest human prints showing. Jason pointed out the climber’s route along a ridge to the summit. Base camp in the amphitheater is at 7,500’. On this sunny, cloudless, windless day, the climb looked possible from up here.

In order to climb McKinley, mountaineers pay $200 for a National Park permit. From mid-May to mid-July they’re on the mountain. This year about 1200 set out, only half succeeded; two died on Denali and three others died on Foraker and Mt. Hunter. Park Rangers monitor climbers from the 7,500’ base camp as well as a 14,000’ base camp. Altitude negatively affects decision-making so rangers stay at the 14,000’ camp for two-week periods. All human waste is containerized and flown off the mountain. Climbers must eat 4-5,000 calories
a day until they reach the last section when they eat very little. Tax dollars pay for rescue teams and vessels.

Cruising across Tokositna Glacier, we look down its 35-mile length. It looks river-like and gray with gravel, not smooth white ice. I imagined a swirling wind spinning like a dervish through the glacier valley whipping dust, gravel and ice particles all over everything. Jason warned us to clear our ears frequently for the descent to Chelatna Lake. This was my favorite part of the flight. The plane banked hard at every curve of the river below. As we descended below the treeline, we couldn’t help but gasp at the beauty of the turquoise lake below. We glided smooth as ducks onto its smooth surface and parked on a white sandy beach. Jason and Ryley tossed perfectly flat skimming stones. Ryley spotted fresh bear tracks. Mama grizz and two cubs had been fishing here recently. You can never let your guard down in Alaska. Another float plane landed giving its Anchorage passengers a chance to pee before continuing into the bush somewhere.



Time to go. We took off and I was trying to get a shot of the lake and the mountains and saw an aluminum canoe-looking boat submerged, only one paddle aboard. I said so into my mic. Then I spied people on shore waving frantically. I said so. Jason said nothing and for a minute didn’t change direction, leaving us to wonder. Then, he banked and landed near the boat. The men were frantically calling because they didn’t hear Jason’s calls to them. Deftly he maneuvered the plane to the shipwrecked vessel—a portable fishing boat, its motor fully submerged. He tied it to the back of one of the floats, piling the backpack, fly rod and paddle on top of the float. We drove over to the other paddle. Bill asked if these are the fishermen he dropped off in the morning and he confessed, yes. The ultimate man of few words, it was much later we learned that the sunken boat was his! The dry fisherman with all the stuff hanging from his waders was panicky. The other guy was in the boat solo when it capsized in the middle of the lake. The dry one thought his friend had hypothermia, but the guy seemed okay when he came over; shivering but lucid. Jason asked if the motor was running when it capsized—yes, they answered. Jason wasn’t pleased. The wet guy should have ridden with us, but wouldn’t leave his buddy. They agreed that Jason would fly us back and return for them right away. They were lucky; the sun saved their lives. We didn’t mention the grizzly tracks.

Airborne again we crossed back over the river valley to Fish Creek. Jason greased another landing. Float planes can land on water, snow, ice, even grass—the ideal way to get around back country Alaska. Molly showed us a pair of sockeye battling the current in the stream to the lake. They were red and when Bill watched closely, he realized they were spawning. The female turned sideways to clear a space with her tailfin, laying eggs that the exhausted male would fertilize before dying. Afterwards, she would cover the eggs as best she could to hide them from hungry trout.


Since it was raining when we were last in Talkeetna, I didn’t have any pictures and wanted to return. It’s such an odd place. We fed leaves to two captive caribou. Bill and Ryley touched their velvety antlers. A naked, obnoxious guy baited tourists for attention on the Talkeetna River beach. “Welcome to Talkeetna,” he sang strumming his guitar. Almost 80 degrees, we attributed his attire to a dose of spring fever; his mouth deserved a dose of Ivory. “Keep your eyes on the prize,” he called to a passing raft holding his penis.

Ryley and I split a pie at the well-recommended Mile High Pizza while Bill ate BBQ. At the hotel, Ryley and I soaked in the hot tub, a view of the snowy mountain peaks in the distance. Back in the lower 48, Barry Bonds hit his 756th. Ugh.

I Love Baseball

Anyone who knows me will tell you. I love the slow rhythm, the simplicity of the rules, the fact that any player can be a hero one day and a goat the next. When I lived in NYC, I often went to Yankee stadium for two out of every three home games. Back then, the Yankees stank, so I could buy a ticket to the cheap seats and slip an usher a five and sit right up against the dugout. (Unfortunately, this was before I owned a camera.) My husband is a Braves fan. On the two occasions the Yankees played the Braves in the World Series, we had to watch in separate rooms.

Natural then, that when our son was old enough, we signed him up for teeball. He promptly told his coach he liked soccer better. Coach John accepted the challenge. When Ryley got his first hit from a pitched ball, John picked him up and ran him around the bases. At the end of the season, the team had the opportunity to run out on the field with the minor league Renegades. Each teeballer had his name announced to the crowd, each tipped his cap in reply. Ryley’s love for baseball was born that season. Thanks Coach!

This is my homepage photo for the month of June. Sorry this one’s not for sale.

Insider’s Look: Karate 4th, May Americana Photo

July 4th is my favorite holiday. There are no presents to buy, no fancy turkey meals for dozens, no travel, no stress. I like to start the day at the Hyde Park parade on Route 9. Organizers annually decide on a theme for all the floats. They invite a nice mix of marchers—cub scouts, marching bands, fire trucks, veterans, politicians, dancers, clowns. Many throw candy to the kids lining the street. This one boy, Sonny Neville, took the responsibility of representing his karate club very seriously.

Be the first to buy a Karate 4th print online and get a 50% discount on the size of your choice.

Genessee Sunset

Beer is at least as old as the Egyptians. People take their beer seriously. Germans frown on French beer, Brits pooh pooh cold beer, not many but the Irish can stomach Guinness, and everyone makes fun of mass-mixed American beer. From PBR to Milwaukee’s Best, old-time American breweries are known for outputting quantity not quality. Gone are the days when a man worked a 10-hour shift and came home to a 12-pack of Schlitz and an episode of Archie Bunker. Microbreweries with clever names like Pete’s Wicked Ale, The Flying Dog, Gilded Otter and 21st Amendment are today’s rage. People want their meister to brew custom blends in quaint copper keg-lined shops, not windowless cinderblock factories. This Genessee brewery sits atop a bluff overlooking the Genessee River in Rochester, NY. The golden lager hues of the sun setting on its industrial façade are metaphor for its waning popularity; the beauty of the light a reminder of what once was. Bottoms up.

Genessee Sunset is my April home page photo and a new addition to my Americana collection. Be the first to buy a print online and get a 50% discount on the size of your choice.

Insider’s Look: McDonald’s, March Americana Photo

On a road trip to visit the University of Rochester with our niece, we overnighted in Utica, New York. This vintage McDonald’s made me remember how they used to look before 42 oz. Cokes and super-sizing. I remember the first golden arches opening near us in the early ‘60s. We didn’t go, mind you, my mother didn’t approve of fast food. But it was a novelty to look at and to watch the number of burgers sold swell to ‘over 1 million,’ a number beyond my comprehension at the time. The first McDonald’s opened in Des Plaines, Illinois in 1955. Ronald McDonald, played by Willard Scott, was born in 1963.

Be the first to buy a McDonald’s print online, one of my Americana Collection, and get a 50% discount on the print size of your choice.