Cape Blanco Lighthouse stands on a piece of land that juts out into the Pacific Ocean one half of a mile, making it the western most lighthouse in Oregon. Erected in 1870, it is the oldest continually operated lighthouse in the state as well. In order to save money in construction cost, two kilns were erected on site to provide the bricks needed for the lighthouse and other structures.
The stairway up the lighthouse tower circles within a brick structure
The narrow, winding staircase mimics the logarithmic spiral of the golden rectangle when viewed from above. How could I not capture a perfect composition with these elements laid out before me?
The fresnel lens at the Cape Blanco Lighthouse is one of the largest and oldest in the nation. It magnifies a small light so that it can be seen up to 23 miles offshore.
The crown jewel of this lighthouse is not the structure itself, but rather the Fresnel lens it houses. Standing about six feet tall, the rotating lens encircles a small electric light. Before electricity was installed in the light house, this service was provided by a simple candle. Due to the lens’ magnifying power, the light can be seen up to 23 miles off shore.
Cape Blanco Lighthouse stands on a point that juts out a half mile into the ocean. Its light can be seen up to 23 miles out to sea.
This spring I made a trip with a friend to photograph the area around Bandon, Oregon. Bandon is a very popular golf destination, and in recent years has become a gathering point for many photographers. Mornings and evenings can see dozens of tripod wielding forms roaming up and down the beach, searching for that unique perspective. Here are a collection of sunset photographs I made over the course of several days.
The setting sun at Bandon Oregon turns the sky an orange pink and turns the sea stacks into silhouettes.
While I was there, I was blessed with some reasonable low tides at sunrise, but unfortunately, most sunsets coincided with higher tides, moving me further away from some of the spectacular sea stacks for which this area is known. However, you always have to work with what nature gives you, and I used the varied tides to give me a wider variety of images.
In the shot above, I worked with a lower tide, which allowed me to use a wide angle and get very close to the foreground rock. This gave the beach a lot of depth, and pulled the sea stacks farther into the background.
However, in the shot below, the tide was in much further. This allowed me to use a longer lens and compress the rocks together, giving much more weight to the background sea stacks.
The setting sun at Bandon Oregon turns the sky an orange pink and turns the sea stacks into silhouettes.
In the hour before sunset, I moved closer to one of the sea stacks and played with sun stars along the edge of its silhouette. The sinking sun forced me to constantly change my tripod position, but it helped to have a vertical line to play against. This gave me many more opportunities than if the sun sank behind a horiztonal-oriented object. To catch a good sun star, you have to use a stopped down aperture and catch a light source right on the edge of an obstruction.
The setting sun at Bandon Oregon turns the sky an orange pink and turns the sea stacks into silhouettes.
Unfortunately for much of the trip, we had clear skies in the evening. We did get the sunset glow over the horizon, but the color interest faded to dull grayish orange as you moved up in the sky. This kept most of my compositions low to the horizon, choosing instead to catch the color interplay of red and blues in the moving waves.
The sun sets behind the western horizon, casting the offshore sea stacks into shadow, Bandon, Oregon
It always helps to get a variety of lens lengths to capture a subject in different ways. In the shot above, I used a long telephoto to compress the waves and rocks together, creating a more graphical image. In the shot below, I went much wider, including more of the sky and much more of the incoming waves.
The sun sets behind the western horizon, casting the offshore sea stacks into shadow, Bandon, Oregon
In all this was a sometimes frustrating trip due to the weather. Many mornings were socked in with fog and the evenings saw blown out clear skies. But trying to pull variety out of the location is always a challenge I strive to overcome. I know I’ll be back to this location in the future, hoping for more changing conditions and weather variety.
Okay, so I’m REALLY behind on my photo editing. I try to keep up to date with important photo shoots, but that often means that my less important photos fall into my backlog for later processing. Here is a set of images I shot in Kauai in 2013. Like I said, I am very behind!
Clouds billow over the water at sunset, Kauai, Hawaii
Often when I’m shooting landscapes, I create images that has a foreground, middle ground and background, to create depth and lead the viewers eye into the frame. However when I was in Hawaii, I found myself simplifying ocean images into nothing but clouds, colors and water. These images are really all about the colors and texture of the clouds, and most are shot with longer lenses.
Pastels color the northern sky at sunrise, Kauai, Hawaii
While I was there, I had a mixture of dramatic sunrises and sunsets. As I was situated on the north shore of the island most of the time, I had similar side-lighting on each end of the day.
Clouds billow over the water at sunset, Kauai, Hawaii
However, sunrise gave me the most dramatic clouds and lighting. When shooting into the rising sun, I used silhouetted tree tops to give a sense of scale.
Dramatic shadows play across the thick clouds at sunrise, Kauai, Hawaii
Overall, the colors and lighting of the Kauai sea were spectacular enough to hold their own without a strong foreground. When seen together, they paint a picture of the drama that can play out between light, clouds and ocean.
I was fortunate enough to have an image selected for the cover of the upcoming issue of Bay Nature magazine. I shot this turkey vulture in soft diffused morning light out at Pescadero State Beach. Once I saw him, I dropped to my knees in the sand and slowly started making my way toward him, every few feet stopping to get a safety shot. Finally I was close enough to frame him in a portrait, and was able to get several head poses. It turned out that he was in no hurry to leave, so after I got the shots I wanted, I crept away from him so as not to disturb him.
While not the prettiest bird, when caught in the right light, you can bring out their feather detail as seen here. In bright sunlight, their dark feathers are usually rendered to an inky black, so it was nice to see some of the lightness of the feathers come through in this kind of light.
If you live in the San Francisco Bay Area, grab a copy. It is a great magazine and will introduce you to new places around the bay.
