Elwha River, Mills Bed
The Olympic Peninsula is almost devoid of color in winter. Not so much drained as diluted, like plastic flower dye from a seldom-visited grave. But the color in this scene was startling, like witnessing the very instance of color quitting the landscape. The iron-rich seep was an altogether magnificent orange color, a thin neon glow of mining tailings or mafic lava flow. By comparison these b&w versions feel like an Ishihara test, rare geologic signatures lost in the adjacent mud pie tones.