Yosemite Cloudscapes

Clouds build over the northern mountains of Yosemite National Park. In the summer, afternoon thunder storms are common, often lasting less than an hour.
Clouds build over the northern mountains of Yosemite National Park. In the summer, afternoon thunder storms are common, often lasting less than an hour.

Recently I made a short overnight backpacking trip to the Ten Lakes region of Yosemite National Park. The trail to Ten Lakes starts at Highway 120 and heads north, into the Yosemite high country. Unfortunately, the sunrise and sunset weather conditions were not optimal for my particular location. With a large cliff to the west of my camp site, I was more or less blocked from the setting sun. Sunrise came with blue bird skies – definitely not what a landscape photographer is hoping for!

However, some of the best atmospheric drama came from the typical afternoon cloud buildup over the high peaks. As my group reached Ten Lakes Pass, we were greeted with a large cumulus buildup, and distant showers, providing a dramatic topper to a never ending mountain range to the north.

There was such detail in the cloud textures that I began thinking instantly of Ansel Adams, and the magnificent work he created on similar afternoons in the high country. I began thinking in black and white, centering my composition on the clouds, and using the mountains as nothing more than to give the photo a sense of place. The stark blue sky above the clouds was turned black by applying a strong orange filter (in post processing of course!), which rendered the isolated cloud bursts below the clouds in lighter grays.

Storm clouds are bottom lit from the setting sun
Storm clouds are bottom lit from the setting sun

That evening, I watched the sun settle with bland ambivalence behind the ridge line to the west. It was not quite yet true sunset, but my world was thrust into shadow. Dark, colorless clouds spotted the sky, but I couldn’t tell if the western horizon was free of cloud cover or not. Just as I was about to give up and pack the camera, the bottom of the clouds lit up in a surreal magenta. With nothing to anchor the shot, I began creating cloud abstracts, loving the way the sun colored the bottoms of the clouds, leaving the upper clouds dark and mysterious.

Although I took many other landscapes on the trip, nothing spoke to me like these two cloud images. I was satisfied returning with these two images and happy memories of being out in the wilderness.

Shooting the Ends of the Day

Stillness envelops the landscape of Mono Lake just after sunset
Stillness envelops the landscape of Mono Lake just after sunset

One of my favorite times of day to shoot is either just before sunrise or just after sunset. The sky casts the entire scene in deep blues and purple hues, and the light becomes very soft. It is actually a great time to shoot because all harsh contrast is removed, and the photo captures all the details in the shadows.

The photo above was taken about 45 minutes after sunset, just after the typical “magic hour” light had left the sky. For post-sunset photography, it helps to scout your intended shots earlier in the day, as it can quickly get quite dark, and it is harder to compose the photograph. There is only about half an hour with this type of light before it becomes night photography.

Additional benefits include lack of crowds (even most photographers leave after the sunset light goes away), and (usually) any wind will die down, allowing for reflections and keeping grass and plants from moving in those long exposures. Here it is helpful to have an intervalometer to help time really long exposures, as most cameras stop their auto exposure shutter timings at 30 seconds. A stopwatch can also work in a pinch, but that can become more fiddly, especially in the waning light.

Moments before the sun rises, Hot Creek reflects the cool glow of snow covered peaks
Moments before the sun rises, Hot Creek reflects the cool glow of snow covered peaks

This photo was taken at the other end of the day, about a half hour before sunrise. Again, there is little contrast difference between the foreground and the distant mountains due to the soft, even light. I had been to this location before, and had pre-visualized this shot in this kind of light. This helped me greatly in knowing where to go and how I wanted to compose this shot, so that I didn’t have to wander around in the dark (and cold!) of the early morning. I find it also helps with my early morning motivation to know exactly what I want to accomplish. Without a clear plan, it is far too easy to glance out the window and then roll over and go back to sleep!

Oregon Coast Sunset

The tide washes through a sea arch, allowing a view to the ocean beyond, Harris State Beach
The tide washes through a sea arch, allowing a view to the ocean beyond, Harris State Beach

On my recent trip up the California coast to the redwoods, I had an opportunity to pop up into Oregon to visit Harris State Beach, home of a very interesting sea arch. The arch is carved into a rock wall just offshore, with plenty of interesting boulders along the beach, giving enterprising photographers many options for compositions. As the sun was setting, I settled for a more centered approach to my composition, centering the arch directly above a centered rock. Usually I avoid such centering, choosing instead to lead the viewer’s eye out of one of the lower corners, but in this case I think it works. Simple, yet strong.

The sun sets behind offshore sea stacks, Harris Beach State Park
The sun sets behind offshore sea stacks, Harris Beach State Park

After settling on a composition I was happy with, I had a few minutes to run north in order to catch the sun as it set behind a large sea stack. In order to get into a position where the sun would set behind the rock, I scrambled up onto another rock and perched precariously at the top, while trying to give my tripod enough room. Let’s just say that I was relieved when I got the shot and could climb back down, by body and camera gear still in tact.

Large flat rocks lead through the rising tide to a dark sea arch in a rock wall, Harris State Beach
Large flat rocks lead through the rising tide to a dark sea arch in a rock wall, Harris State Beach

After the sun dropped below the horizon, I went back to the sea arch and really explored the foreground rocks. I fell in love with these ones, but from their vantage point, you could not see all the way through the arch. In this case, I chose to crop the top of the photo, as the rock wall really wasn’t that interesting and instead focus the photo on the foreground rocks themselves. The low light allowed for a slow shutter speed, turning the rushing waves into a calm mist.

The sun sets behind a bank of offshore clouds, silhouetting the sea stacks at Harris State Beach, Oregon
The sun sets behind a bank of offshore clouds, silhouetting the sea stacks at Harris State Beach, Oregon

The parking area at Harris Beach offers commanding views down onto the beach below, and just before I left, I spent some time with the very last of the sunset light. Here there was a nice stream forming an s-curve into the photo. Overall I found this a pretty photogenic beach, and I know I’ll be back in the future, especially to shoot that arch in different types of light.

A Counter-intuitive Tip To Tack Sharp Photos With A Long Lens

The hues of twilight cast offshore sea stacks in a blue glow as waves wash around them, Crescent City, CA
The hues of twilight cast offshore sea stacks in a blue glow as waves wash around them, Crescent City, CA

On my recent trip north up the California coast to photograph redwoods and rhododendrons, I also had an opportunity to shoot sea stacks just offshore in Crescent City, CA. After shooting a bit with my 70-200mm, I really wanted to go for a unique perspective of these rocks and stack them on top of one another. So I grabbed my go-to bird lens, the 800mm f/5.6. Using a Canon 7D with a cropped sensor gave me an equivalent focal length of 1280mm.

I waited until the sun set, giving me photos with the cool blue of dusk, and allowing me to slow my shutter speed to turn the crashing waves into a calming mist. This is the effect I was after – hard, sharp rocks shrouded in a blue fog of moving water. However, as soon as my shutter speed got longer than 1/100th of a second and started creeping toward the 1 and 2 second mark, the results on the back of my LCD were horribly blurry.

In normal shooting conditions with this lens, I never like to let the shutter speed drop below 1/250th of a second, and only if I have a stationary subject do I lock down the gimbal head on my tripod and go for something slower. But usually 1/100th of a second is my slowest usable shutter speed. What to do in this situation? Even by bumping the ISO very high I couldn’t achieve a fast enough shutter speed in these darkening conditions, and doing so would also counteract the effect of the moving water.

The solution seemed counter-intuitive at first. I found that by greatly lengthening my exposures, I was able to achieve much sharper results! The initial blurriness I was seeing was caused by the shutter vibration, amplified by the extremely long focal length (and yes, I was using mirror lockup). When I increased the exposure time, the percentage of time that the mirror shake impacted the overall exposure time was reduced, thus creating a sharper image. Using this principal, I found that by exposing for 30 seconds, I was able to achieve the sharpest results.

A couple things to keep in mind. First, this technique will only work if there is no wind. Even a slight breeze will blow a huge lens like that back and forth, ruining any chance of a long exposure. Second, make sure to check sharpness by zooming in to your resulting photo on the camera’s LCD. Never trust sharpness from a photo displayed 3 inches across – everything looks sharp when it is that small!

So next time you’re out with a giant lens trying to do landscape work (really not a very common combo!), remember to experiment with the slower shutter speeds. You might just find some sharpness in there.

Copyright 2017 Hank Christensen