There is something about manufactured landscapes that I find disturbingly compelling. They are usually striking, often beautiful, and – more often than not – toxic. Almost no matter what was there before; it was healthier before the transformation. Two of my favorite photographers often shoot manufactured landscapes. Edward Burtynsky often – actually, usually – shoots beautiful photographs of awful places:

Richard Misrach rarely shoots a pure landscape, usually his landscapes show the impact left by man. 

One of his latest series is (are?) huge – like 60" x 60" – pictures of people on a beach. 

In the mid-60's, there was a movie, Blowup, about a photographer in which the opening scene was all about admiring gorgeous pictures of homeless men. The point was to show the shallowness of the photographer; but it is what photographers try to do – take gorgeous or striking pictures. Pictures with with impact.

The Napa Valley is softer and less toxic than anything either of the masters might photograph; but it's wall to wall manufactured landscape qualifies as striking for me.

The valley floor is vineyards, as far as the eye can see. Punctuated by windmills operating in reverse – using power to move the wind. Protecting the vines from frost just like in the orange groves 50 years ago in Southern California.

In the background are the mountains (or hills if you prefer) kept at bay. Nature behind the trip wire.

I am not a big fan of golf and specifically Golf Courses. Golf courses are basically a mono-culture of grass maintained with a lot of chemicals and water. They are a very artificial environment that only looks natural – especially in California which is naturally a dry landscape. There are times, though, – late evening, say – when they can be magical.

OK…rains. California is one of those unusual places (there are others – the Succulent Karoo – isn't that a great name – in South Africa , the Mediterranean Sahara, parts of the Chilean coast to name some I know ) that have winter rains. That means winter is the growing season and summer is the dormant season. Winter is when the hills are green and summer is when they are straw brown or, as we like to say, golden. Having lived here my whole life, it seems normal, but I have been assured that it isn't.

Anyway, we had a huge (5") rain a couple of weeks ago and a light rain yesterday, so, in the grasslands around the Bay Area, all the natives are starting to come back to life. The first thing to show is the grass that is starting to peak through last year's dead grass.

I love the summers in California but late in the fall, when and if the rains come, the hills have a vibrancy and lushness – it is a time of coming back to life.