McIver State Park foray

I usually start these out by saying "today's adventure takes us to...", but I probably shouldn't this time. I've gotten the distinct impression that basically everyone in town except me goes to McIver State Park all the time, and has done so for years. Ok, I might be exaggerating a little, and just everyone on the eastside has been going there for years. Here's a map -- the park is the V-shaped green bit just west of Estacada:

So apologies in advance if I'm going on about your home away from home here. I grew up in Aloha, and we didn't head out to Estacada all that often. Basically never, in fact. I vaguely knew there was this large green blob on the map next to the Clackamas River, but I'd never been there and didn't know anything about the place.

Ok, that's not strictly true, I did know the park had hosted the Vortex I hippie festival, I mean, "Biodegradable Festival of Life", back in 1970. Which I know because this city's thick with nostalgic boomer types who can't seem to STFU about the 60's, just like the way their parents go on and on about World War II every chance they get. I swear, if I'm 50 years old and you ever hear me waxing nostalgic about the early 90's, insisting they were the Golden Age of music and culture or whatever, you can just go ahead and slap me silly.

Of course there's a flip side to all of that. The only thing more tedious than people waxing nostalgic about the 60's are those prim bow-tie-wearing cultural-conservative twits on FoxNews whining about how the 60's ruined everything and must be "undone" somehow, at all costs. So don't get me wrong, I'm certainly not one of those people. It's just that poking fun at hippies is fun, easy, and mostly harmless. They probably won't even notice, much less care.

I think knowing about that festival colored my expectations of the park. I really didn't expect it to be scenic at all, I just figured it'd be a large open space where a few hundred thousand stupid hippies could squat in the mud and trip out to an endless procession of cheesy jam bands. I wouldn't have guessed there'd be high cliffs overlooking the Clackamas River. That doesn't seem very hippie-friendly if you ask me. Possibly that was the whole point. As the oldtimers love to remind us, the festival was organized by the state's Republican governor to lure the city's disaffected war-protesting youngsters away and keep 'em "sedated" while the American Legion convention was in town. If a few hippies decided gravity was a bummer, man, and tried to fly away off the cliffs, hey, even better. Oddly the festival seems to have gone off without any reported fatal incidents. Although it's entirely possible some random hippie just wandered off and disappeared and hasn't been missed by anyone for nearly 40 years. It wouldn't surprise me.

I've never been into the whole psychedelic thing, but I did take a couple of cool/weird infrared photos at the park. I think they're probably groovy enough for our present purposes.

A couple of links about Vortex I from out on the interwebs, before we move on:

• "Vortex I or why there was no Vortex II", from someone who was there.
  
• And a brief reminiscence by someone who lived nearby. Her reaction is mostly "ugh".
• The PSU Vanguard's book review of ""The Far Out Story of Vortex 1", a recent book about the festival.
• A recent post on the book's author's MySpace page noting that there's also a Vortex I documentary, and it's showing at the Clinton St. Theater this very evening (9/20/07). I don't believe in fate, but that's a rather amusing coincidence. Although I don't actually plan on attending.

So enough about hippies, dammit. At one overlook above the river there's a plaque honoring Milo McIver, once chairman of the state highway commission, the predecessor of today's ODOT. The plaque was executed by Avard Fairbanks, the same sculptor who did the Campbell Memorial plaque at Portland Firefighters' Park.

As fate would have it (if I believed in fate, that is), I was just down at Powell's Technical a couple of hours ago, and right there in the store's free bin was a book with Mr. McIver's name on it. I figured it was appropriate so I grabbed it, even though 90% of it consists of boring trigonometric tables. If that strikes your fancy, or you simply need to build yourself a standard highway spiral, ODOT has the current 2003 version of the book (or at least part of the book) here [PDF].

Heading up the state highway commission obviously commanded a great deal more honor and respect than it does now. Besides McIver, you might also recognize the name Glenn L. Jackson, as the I-205 bridge in east Portland is named in his honor.

So about the park itself. There's an upper area with the cliffs, a large picnic area, and such, and there's a lower part down by the river. There are actually two ways down to the river but I only checked out one of them; if you haven't noticed yet, this is not really a comprehensive post about the park's amenities. I didn't play any disc golf, or camp, or fish, or look for bats, or go horseback riding, or float down the Clackamas River on an inner tube, carrying a six-pack. Although I saw a few people doing that and it looked like fun. Fashionable Portlanders sneer at the practice, figuring that it's something trailer-trash people out in Clackamas do, so therefore it's bad and couldn't possibly be any fun. I hadn't really given it a lot of thought before, but it was a hot day, and the river was very cold, and I can see the attraction. Haven't actually tried it, I'm not real keen on the whole "getting plastered and falling in the river and drowning" thing, although I understand that's an optional part of the experience.

So basically I just wandered around with a camera for a couple of hours looking for photogenic stuff. I think I've mentioned before that the state parks department has started an annual photo contest, with the winning photos appearing in the next year's Oregon State Parks calendar. So I spent the day looking for material, here and at Bonnie Lure, the other state park near Estacada, with a side trip over to Fearless Brewing (which I mentioned before here). I later discovered my poor little camera doesn't have enough megapixels to qualify, and I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have used any of these pics even if they'd been eligible. But at least I'm getting a blog post out of the adventure, which I guess is something. And besides, there's always next year.

PS, here's a heron I saw down by the river. Besides loading up on additional megapixels, I think I'll need to look for a telephoto lens with a little more oomph to it. I know I've sung the praises of "digital zoom" before, but it's really no substitute for having a proper long, if rather Freudian-looking, lens at one's disposal.

still technically summer

...although you wouldn't know it by looking outside. Autumn is fine and all, don't get me wrong, I just wish it hadn't started back in early August. Well, that can't be helped now, so we might as well make the best of the new season. Which means another round of that September-November mainstay, photos of Leaves Changing Color and subsequently Fallen Leaves. If you find a good example of either and take a halfway-decent photo, people will read all sorts of things into it, like they do with flowers budding out. I'm not sure whether this is because the subject matter is inherently deep, or because it strikes a chord in the human psyche, or simply because it's cheating somehow. I'm inclined toward the latter explanation, because a.) I'm a cynic, and b.) it's just too easy for it to be transcendent, or deep, or meaningful. You just point the camera at the leaf and press the little button, and poof. Anyone who says there's anything more complicated going on is trying to sell you something.



Every year about this time I find myself feeling oddly energized and restless, as if I ought to be out frantically gathering acorns, or chopping firewood, or filling the cellar with hearty root vegetables. Mmmm.... potatoes.... tater tots.... But I digress.



It's possible this humble blog will metamorphose again in the near future, as it tends to do every so often when I get to feeling restless. I have this nagging feeling I've been too carefree and frivolous for the past, oh, I'm not sure quite how long it's been, but the last few months have been pretty heavy with the flowers and waterfalls and so forth, and I feel as though I'm creating the wrong impression. In my heart of hearts, I know this is quite the serious, intellectual blog I've got here, but I admit that fact has rarely been in evidence of late. So we'll have to see. I may try another Logical Week of Monomedia, seven consecutive posts with no photos, videos or whatnot; the previous one wasn't entirely successful, so it looks like a challenge. I like a challenge, now and then, but I've never been very good at living within arbitrary restrictions, even self-imposed ones.



However, the semi-promised metamorphosis isn't happening just yet. Energized or not, I'm still too lazy to take up that particular challenge at the moment. This is the point in this post where I search around for filler material, since I have more photos than I have paragraphs. And this time I really don't have very many photos, by recent standards. So to stretch the material a little, why don't we call it a paragraph and move on to the next? How about it?



Ok, here's that next paragraph I promised you, and I have high hopes for it. The above & below photos are of leaves gnawed by... something. They aren't precisely Leaves Changing Color, much less Fallen Leaves, but I thought they had a certain appeal about them, and here they are. Well, that's about it for this paragraph, and I really think it turned out well, all things considered. So I think we can call it a day after a few brief closing remarks or something.



... hmm... Safari locked up on me while finishing the last paragraph, and I had to kill -9 it, and now I've lost my train of thought, and I no longer have any idea whatsoever about what kind of closing remarks I had in mind earlier. So I think I'll end this like a art French film, since I'm trying to elevate the tone of this humble blog and all:

FIN

Somewhere Near Dalton Falls

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Today's scenic adventure takes us to Dalton Falls, out in the Columbia Gorge yet again [map]. Or at least I think this is Dalton Falls. I could be wrong. It's a highly obscure waterfall that doesn't show up on most maps, and there's no road sign announcing it, even though its base is almost right next to the scenic highway. Oh, and did I mention the falls dry up in the summer? Thus driving out to go search for them isn't foolproof either. In short, what you're reading is what I've been able to piece together and deduce so far. Think of it as a progress report. I'm pretty sure I found the right place, or at least the immediate vicinity of the right place, but I always strive for accuracy here and I'd hate to get the facts wrong. So all I'm claiming right now is that I was somewhere near the falls, and "near" is a very flexible word, you know.

The map link above takes you to WikiMapia this time instead of the usual Google Map. WikiMapia be the only map on the interwebs that gives even a rough idea of where the falls are, and the only reason WikiMapia has them is because I added them. I figured out the location with the slick USGS Topo maps at BackCountryMaps. The USGS maps indicate the falls are at "roughly" 45.57088383381129 latitude, -122.14350700378418 longitude. (I don't know how many of those digits are actually significant.) Before anyone complains, yes, the box on the map includes the parking lot, and the lower cascade, but the main falls are just outside the box. I fat-fingered the box when I drew it and now I can't figure out how to resize the damn thing.

So here's essentially all the useful info I found on the net about Dalton Falls, and there isn't much of it:

>

• The page about Dalton Falls from the Northwest Waterfall Survey is the best source of info I've run across. I'd never even heard of them before running across this page.
• Here's a fantastic photo of the falls. The same photographer has a large collection of nice waterfall photos here. I know I tend to apologize for the quality of photos here a lot. Sometimes I'm just being modest and I'm secretly kind of proud of them. But this time I really do have to apologize. How about we all agree today's photos serve a purely documentary purpose, since they aren't very artistic, or even all that visually interesting. And this is after going over them with GIMP, trying to mitigate various exposure and color issues and not always succeeding. You'd think it'd be really hard to take a third-rate photo of a frozen waterfall. In my defense, I'm pretty sure there was shivering involved. Taking a nice photo is great, but taking a mediocre photo really fast and getting back inside the warm toasty car is even better, or at least I was quite certain it was at the time.
• A great page about the Gorge, which includes pics of some "unnamed seasonal waterfalls" in the Gorge. I think some of them are of Dalton Falls, or at least of the place I've rightly or wrongly concluded is Dalton Falls. Others are of Mist Falls, and the falls near the Vista House (which I've seen called "Crown Point Falls" before -- here for example -- although I think it's an unofficial name.)
• The falls get a quick mention in this excerpt from the 1954 book History of Wasco County, Oregon, by William H. McNeal. McNeal raves on and on about the Gorge.
  
  

  
  SHEPHERD'S DELL [sic] was called "the playground of the fairies!" Bridal Veil Falls has no comparison! Coopey and Dalton Falls would be outstanding in any place as would Eagle's Rest! Waukeena Falls and Multnomah Falls are internationally known! Simon Benson gave them to the state as a park! Multnomah Falls is called "the Queen of all American cataracts;" its drop is 870 feet! Some say, "its too beautiful to be real," others say, "a dream garden falls".
  

• OregonWaterfalls.net has a mislabelled photo that's actually of nearby Mist Falls. I'm sure it's Mist Falls, because I've been there, and this is what it looks like. The confusion is understandable, since both falls are very, very obscure, and are just down the road from one another.

There's a gravel parking area at the falls. There's no sign saying what the parking is for, so in the summer you tend to get curious people stopping to look around and getting confused. When the falls aren't running you have some high mossy cliffs next to the scenic highway and that's about it. In my Mist Falls piece, I mentioned there was a larger parking lot a short distance west of the tiny one at Mist Falls, and I didn't know what it was for at the time. Then I saw the Waterfalls Northwest piece, and went back through the archives and found a few instances where I took pics of the falls (I think) without knowing they had a name. Or at least, looking back, I'm pretty sure I took the photos in the general vicinity of Dalton Falls. It's been a while, and I could be wrong in a couple of cases. They basically look right, though, so if I'm wrong, I'm not all that wrong.

Getting there is like getting to Mist Falls. If you're going east and get to Wahkeena Falls (or Mist Falls for that matter, if you can recognize it), you've gone too far east. If you're going west and see the Angels Rest trailhead parking lot, you're too far east. There's some sort of silver box containing railroad equipment at the parking lot, across the street from where the falls are. I don't know how common these boxes are, there may be others all over as far as I know -- so regard this as a necessary but not sufficient condition for finding the place. I'm afraid I didn't get a pic of the parking lot this time, but you might not need one. Either the falls are flowing, in which case you ought to be able to see 'em from the road, or they aren't flowing, in which case there's really no reason to stop at all, that I'm aware of.

As far as I know, the parking lot only gets you access to the base of the falls, which is practically right next to the road. I haven't heard of of any trails going further uphill. If they exist they'd have to be quite steep and thrilling, since you'd likely be hiking them in the winter or spring while the falls are flowing.

Updated 1/9/2021: A couple of addenda to this very old post:

• As I mentioned in a nearly-as-old post in 2008, Dalton Falls is also right next to the old highway's milepost 31 (the post includes a photo of the falls and the milepost, so there's no mistaking it.). So that ought to be a more specific clue than the ones I mentioned above.
• The Northwest Waterfall Survey page I mentioned earlier (link updated) now explains that the name "Dalton Falls" seems to have originally been applied to a different waterfall on the creek immediately east of Angels Rest, which has since picked up the unofficial name "Foxglove Falls", named after a couple of nearby trails. One possible clue in favor of this theory is that the alluvial fan from that creek extends out into the Columbia as Dalton Point, which we visited back in 2018.
• Recreating the HCRH expands on that discussion at length and proposes calling the falls shown in this post "New Dalton Falls".
• A March 2020 WyEast Blog post digs even further into this situation, and proposes names for all the other seasonal falls between Angels Rest and Wahkeena Falls (with included aerial photos of most of them), I guess on the theory that names don't hop around as much if there isn't a vacuum that seems to need filling. The author keeps Dalton Falls on the present-day creek, but splits it into two, Dalton Falls being the tall falls you can see from a distance, and Lower Dalton Falls being the shorter one right up next to the old highway.
• Per the map from the previous item, I think the creek that's home to "Cordial Falls" (the next one west of Dalton) is the same one ODOT called "Mosquito Springs Creek" in a recent press release about a landslide. And west of there by a watershed or two, I think one of the more minor spots he just called "Falls" may be the canyoneering location known as "Devil's Whisper".
• Complicating matters slightly more, there is actually an officially-named Dalton Creek nearby, but it's a minor tributary of Young Creek, which then flows northwest and forms the falls at Shepperds Dell. The USGS coordinates for the creek are due south of the east-of-Angels-Rest creek, so my personal theory is that a data entry error may have crept into the USGS database, either for the 1986 database entry or the 1964 state map it's based on. Just changing the latitude of the official 'source' coordinates from 45.525N to 45.565N moves that point to almost right on the rim of the watershed for that creek. On the other hand, the mysterious "W. Dalton" who's believed to be the namesake of all these places might have been enough of a local bigwig at the time that several unconnected places were named for him or her.
• The naming situation is much clearer for the rocky overhang the falls go over, as it turns out this is a popular local rock climbing spot known as "The Rat Cave". So if you can't find the milepost for whatever reason, like maybe someone stole it to sell on eBay or something, but you do see the overhang, and there's climbing hardware attached to the underside of the overhang (like in this OregonHikers thread), that could be yet another a clue that you're in the right place.

...wherein I raid the archives again...

Not much to say about this collection. I was scratching my head about a weird bug, and switched over to rifling through old(ish) photos for a bit. I found a few I'd never posted but liked enough to post, so here they are, for good or ill. Some are old, others are recent, many are of old standbys -- which probably explains why they weren't posted before, I mean, how many Lovejoy Fountain photos do I really need, for example? The answer, apparently, is "more".





More Lovejoy Fountain, like I said. The first one's recent, taken with that wide-angle doodad I keep going on about. Oh, and did I mention it was a long exposure at night? The other one's from last fall, I think, taken without any add-ons or other gimmickry at all. Either I hadn't got into experimenting yet, or I just hadn't gotten jaded. Take your pick.



My metallic nemesis, Rusting Chunks No. 5, this time done wide-angle style. This was taken from right in the middle of the thing. It's cramped quarters there, with no way to take a step back, so without the new widget there's no way I could've fit all this stuff in the frame. For whatever that's worth.



In a pinch, a car sunroof makes an interesting filter.





A couple more photos from Tanner Springs.



The future site of "Vera Katz Park", a fancy name for the little strip of land on the north side of the Armory Theater. It's a fitting name in many ways. It's a minor adjunct to the grand dreams of a well-connected developer, and it's been delayed greatly due to cost overruns and general mismanagement.



A photo of the sky from the Stumptown Coffee downtown. I'm not sure why I like this one, exactly, but I do.



More sky, from somewhere downtown, probably. I don't recall anymore.





A narrow alley somewhere in the Pearl.





More Tanner Springs.



A decaying plaster wall, somewhere in the Pearl, I think.



Another pic of the Chimney Fountain.

photo friday, rattled edition

So here are a few photos I took earlier today while I was wandering around Lake Oswego, wearing a suit and sipping some kind of fruity mango smoothie. That's all highly out of character for me, but I was on my way to a funeral and was pretty rattled about it, so I thought I'd stop and chill out for a bit.

Most of the flowers you see here are at George Rogers Park on the Willamette, and all the water & sculpture ones are at or near Millennium Plaza Park, right on the lake in downtown Lake Oswego. Well, "right on the lake" is a bit misleading. The lake itself (which is a reservoir, actually) has a unique legal status: It's privately owned, and lakefront property owners own shares in the company and pay dues to maintain the thing. If you aren't part of this elite club, no lake for you. You aren't supposed to even touch the water here. No doubt something unimaginably terrible and gruesome will happen to you if you do, more than likely involving an ancient Egyptian curse, or a radioactive monster, at the very least lawyers.

Quite frankly I didn't need any convincing to stay out of their precious lake. I'm told the thing stagnates and gets really icky algae problems in the summer (not that we've had much of a summer this year). I'm sure it's the better sort of algae, the ultra-upscale imported kind, not the tacky stuff they have at Blue Lake out toward Gresham. Or at least that's what the locals probably tell themselves over and over again, so that they don't feel they're getting a raw deal. I guess it's sort of the aquatic equivalent of a stinky French cheese, one that only a true connoisseur can appreciate.

You might have gathered that I don't really feel like talking about the funeral itself. That shouldn't be surprising, as I've always said this isn't the most personal of personal blogs, and deliberately so. For the same reason, I'm not going to get overly detailed about why I've been heading out to the Columbia Gorge so much lately, but I will say it's been therapeutic. Oh, you thought I was doing all that just so I could blog about it? Well, no, no I wasn't, not exactly. Although the blogging part was kind of therapeutic as well.

When you work in an obsessively casual industry like mine (software), you tend to forget how people react when you wear a suit, versus the usual shorts + t-shirt. I could probably have gotten away with just about anything (other than jumping in the lake). People see the suit and assume you're authorized to do whatever you're doing. I'm not sure why, certainly not after Enron, but a suit still grants you the benefit of the doubt. Mass quantities of benefit of the doubt. It depends a lot on where you are, though; just try walking down Mississippi Avenue in Brooks Brothers, or Men's Wearhouse for that matter. You might as well be wearing a Klan robe so far as the hipster contingent's concerned. They'll figure you're a greedy developer, trying to put in a condo tower or a Starbucks or something. They'll probably assume you drive a gigantic SUV that runs on kittens.

And they'd have a good point. The first couple of minutes when people start acting all deferential toward you it just seems weird. Then you realize it's the suit, and for another five minutes you feel like you've acquired magic powers of thought control, and it feels kind of good. Then -- at least if you're me -- you get alarmed by the whole idea. People will apparently do just about anything to make you happy, just because you're wearing the right clothes. It doesn't speak well for the human race, if you ask me.

The other, far less likely, possibility is that it had nothing to do with the suit. People were recognizing me, realizing I was an Important Local Blogger Of Note, and bowing and scraping because of that, hoping I'd put in a good word for them out here on the Interwebs.

As I said, far less likely.

a new toy, and beer

A few pics, mostly of beer, taken with a cheap wide angle converter I picked up at Fry's the other day. The thing's supposed to fit onto the front of your camera via a little adhesive-backed magnetic ring that sticks on around the lens. I haven't attached the ring yet, since I think I need to file it down in a couple spots so it doesn't block any light in the corners of the frame. So for now I'm just holding the adapter up to the lens with one hand, taking the photo with the other. Results so far are mixed, but interesting. I could probably get rid of the vignetting (the dark rounded-off corners) by zooming in a little, at the expense of some of that wide-angley goodness. On the other hand, the vignetted look's been kind of trendy of late. I don't know if it's due to the Holga craze or what, but you see it around quite a bit.

The main reason I got this new thingy is because the last couple of times I was out in the Columbia Gorge, there were times where it just wasn't possible to get the picture I wanted to take. I just couldn't fit everything into the frame, and taking a few steps back would've meant falling off a high cliff. Suffering for art is fine and all, but one has to draw the line somewhere, and I have a firm, longstanding anti-plummeting policy.

A $30 adapter is obviously no match for a "real" camera with a dedicated wide angle lens on it. Gentle Reader(s) of this humble blog might've noticed I've been doing a bit of handwringing about digital SLRs lately, and there's a reason for that. I keep going back and forth on whether I ought to get one, a process that's devolved into endless handwringing. My usual policy on gadget upgrades of any kind is that you only do it when you've hit the wall with your existing gear, and there are things you simply can't do to your satisfaction. Not because you think swanky new widgetry will be the magic dust that makes you "better" at whatever it is you're doing, without you having to practice or study or anything. It might, but finding out can get expensive, and to me it just feels like cheating somehow. I'm not entirely immune to the lure of bright shiny objects, but I try to stay on guard; like most traditionally male-dominated hobbies, you can pretty much pour all your spare disposable income into cameras if you choose to, as if there was no law of diminishing returns. And then, quite often, go around being a pompous know-it-all jerk about it, making sure everyone knows exactly how much you spent, and how much your new status symbols enhance your manliness. Possibly you can tell that kind of behavior doesn't overly impress me. I try to ask myself, "Would you still buy it if you couldn't tell anyone about it?" I think the answer's yes in this case, and I think I'm running up against the outer limits of what my little point-n-shoot can do. But that still hasn't convinced me to open my wallet just yet. I mean, there's always a new and improved model just around the corner, so it's quite easy to sit back and wait and see.

My other issue with DSLRs, besides spending money, is the sheer size of the things. I realize sensor size is important and everything, but smallness is a virtue as well. I think what I'd really like to see would be a point-and-shoot sized camera that takes C-mount interchangeable lenses, like those you find on 16mm movie cameras, security cameras, machine vision systems, and some microscopes. As far as I can tell, though, there's no such thing on the market. I've been doing a little research to see if it'd be practical to homebrew something instead, ideally a modular arrangement where you could swap out sensors as well as lenses. You wouldn't have to replace the whole camera every time a better sensor hits the market, and you could swap out the usual sensor for a monochrome one, say, or even a thermal imaging sensor if you can afford it. Even if you could only swap the lenses out, there's a huge range of C-mount lenses out there, including unusual beasties like telecentric, anamorphic, and f-theta lenses, among other things.

So far I haven't found any cameras that quite fit the bill (ignoring for right now the option of adapting an existing digicam.) 16mm cameras aren't digital, and aren't exactly handheld size. Security cameras usually don't have enough resolution to be interesting, and often just output analog NTSC, or at best the digital equivalent. You'd think customers would want a camera that could also take high-res stills as needed, but that doesn't seem to have happened yet. Microscope and industrial cameras are expensive, low volume items, and both they and security cams need to be tethered to an external computer and power source, which defeats the point if you're aiming for smallness. You might be able to get around that with something like a UMPC, or Nokia's N800, or a PDA that supports USB host mode if you can find one. Then you'd need to write or adapt some software to get your chosen gadget talking to the camera. Once you've sorted that out, you're in business. It might not be any smaller, or lighter, or less expensive, or higher performance, but if it's sheer homebrew hack value you're looking for, this could be a fun project. I'm still researching right now, so I'll let you know if this ever amounts to anything.



About the beer: This is a nice tasty glass of the IPA down at Tugboat, the Official Center of the Universe. I always seem to end up in a brewpub whenever I get a new toy. It's not an official policy of mine, but somehow it always seems to work out that way. ( Like this, for example.)



I think I mentioned the photos were only mostly of beer. Here are a couple of the Burnside Bridge from Waterfront Park, just to illustrate the effect of the wide angle converter. First photo is without, second is with, taken from the same spot, all other conditions the same.