These images can be created with any regular digital camera. The images are stitched together in post processing to create large, wide angle views. All of the photos presented here are in the 40 to 100 megapixel range, which means they can be printed very large (at least 30×90 inches). For better appreciation for the detail captured in these photos, please be sure to click on the image to see a larger view.

The sun lights stormy clouds as sets behind the eastern Sierra range, north of Bishop. Canon 70-200mm f/4L lens with the EOS-5D MkII. ISO 640. Evaluative metering 0 EV: 1/400 sec. at f/8. Composed of 7 stitched photos, handheld.

The sun rises over Hot Creek, as the Sierra Nevada looms in the distance. Canon 24-70mm f/2.8L lens with the EOS-5D MkII. ISO 100. Evaluative metering 0 EV: 3.2 sec. at f/16. Composed of 4 stitched photos.

The wall of the eastern Sierra rises over ten thousand feet above the Alabama Hills at dawn. Canon 70-200mm f/4L lens with the EOS-5D MkII. ISO 200. Evaluative metering 0 EV: 1/4 sec. at f/16. Composed of 7 vertical stitched photos.

An ancient bristlecone pine crouches on a snowy slope, greeting morning's first rays of light, Ancient Bristlecone Pine Forest. Canon 70-200mm f/4L lens with the EOS-5D MkII. ISO 200. Evaluative metering 0 EV: 1/6 sec. at f/7.1. Composed of 7 stitched photos.

Moments before the sun rises, Hot Creek reflects the cool glow of snow covered peaks. Canon 24-70mm f/2.8L lens with the EOS-5D MkII. ISO 200. Evaluative metering 0 EV: 30 sec. at f/16.

One of my first sunrise shoots on my recent trip to the eastern Sierra was at Hot Creek. I wanted to catch some snow from the recent snow storm before it melted out of the mountains, and I knew this spot would work well with longer lenses to help emphasize the mountains.

The first shot was taken a half hour before sunrise. The scene was just starting to light up, but still maintained some of the cooler hues of night. Although there were no clouds to work with, there was some slight haze above the mountains, which reflected some of the deep purple of pre-dawn.

One of my biggest challenges in these early morning shoots is staying warm as I patiently wait behind my tripod for the light to change. For this location, the main foreground attraction was really the flowing creek, so I didn’t move around a lot. If you had been there that morning, you would have seen what looked like a crazy person jumping up and down and blowing on his hands to keep warm (yes, I forgot my gloves that morning).

Grass adorns the banks of Hot Creek as sun touches the mountains to the east. Canon 24-70mm f/2.8L lens with the EOS-5D MkII. ISO 100. Evaluative metering -1 EV: .3 sec. at f/16.

After the sun rose and I felt I captured that part of the creek in the best light of the morning, I explored with the camera a little trying out different foregrounds and lens lengths. I’m a sucker for near/far verticals, and that’s what my eye gravitated toward when I saw this long grass growing along the bank of the creek.

Soon enough the photo shoot was over, as the morning light faded and fishermen began to show up along the length of the creek.

Wild flowers adorn the creek that descends from the base of Latourell Falls, Columbia River Gorge, Oregon. Canon 17-40mm f/4L lens with the EOS-5D MkII. ISO 100. Evaluative metering -1/3 EV: 1 sec. at f/16.

Earlier this summer I spent a couple of mornings in the Columbia River Gorge, photographing just a few of the many waterfalls that line its cliffs. Luckily, I was blessed with Oregon’s trademark high overcast skies, which gave me the perfect diffused light with which to do forest photography. By cutting out all the scattered light beams filtering through the canopy, I was able to get even light across the entire scene, and reduce the dynamic range to something my camera could handle.

Latourell Falls drops straight down from an overhanging basalt cliff, Columbia River Gorge, Oregon. Canon 17-40mm f/4L lens with the EOS-5D MkII. ISO 100. Evaluative metering -1/3 EV: 1 sec. at f/16.

The two preceding images are of Latourell Falls, which seems to have endless foreground opportunities. While most of the falls in the Gorge cascade down rock faces, this waterfall plunges off an overhanging basalt cliff, allowing the water to fall straight down. Since there are never any true straight lines in nature, having a strong vertical line to work into the composition can be a lot of fun.

Ponytail Falls shoots outward from a cleft in a rock cliff, and cascades over large stones below, Columbia River Gorge, Oregon. Canon 17-40mm f/4L lens with the EOS-5D MkII. ISO 100. Evaluative metering -2/3 EV: 2.5 sec. at f/16.

Ponytail Falls sits upriver from Horsetail Falls, a much larger waterfall closer to the road. While Ponytail may be inferior to its companion in size, it makes up for it in beauty. This fall shoots out from a notch in the cliff, creating a pleasing arc of water. A hiking trail wraps around the base of the cliff behind the waterfall, giving hikers the added bonus of seeing the fall from a different perspective.

Shepperds Dell Falls empties into a narrow canyon overgrown with greenery, Columbia River Gorge, Oregon. Canon 17-40mm f/4L lens with the EOS-5D MkII. ISO 200. Evaluative metering -2/3 EV: .4 sec. at f/16.

Shepperd’s Dell Falls is absolutely covered with green. This is a nice tidy little waterfall that starts well below the trailhead, allowing views from high above looking down. Of course, shooting so much foliage makes using a polarizer a must. This will cut all reflections on the leaves, and really make the green color pop. This is an effect that cannot be replicated well in post processing.

The river below Wahkeena Falls cascades past a fern, Columbia River Gorge, Oregon. Canon 17-40mm f/4L lens with the EOS-5D MkII. ISO 500. Evaluative metering 0 EV: 1/6 sec. at f/16.

Just below Wakheena Falls is a beautiful cascade that runs past lush ferns and wild flowers. It is not as well visited, as it is tucked away below the road, and most visitors are drawn immediately to the waterfall.

Bridal Veil Falls empties into a small pool surrounded by dense forest, Columbia River Gorge, Oregon. Canon 24-70mm f/2.8L lens with the EOS-5D MkII. ISO 200. Evaluative metering -1 2/3 EV: .4 sec. at f/16.

The last waterfall I covered in this trip was Bridal Veil Falls. This is one of the more popular waterfalls along this stretch of road. Equally as popular is the Bridal Veil post office, which receives boxes of wedding invitations from all over the world, so that the invitations can be postmarked by the town of “Bridal Veil” and mailed out to potential wedding guests.

I have to admit, I had a little trouble with the aesthetics of this waterfall. The shot above is a straight-forward interpretation, shot from an (ahem) observation platform. Okay, let’s be honest – it is a vacation snapshot! I wasn’t very happy with this rendering, as I felt it lacked conveying the almost ethereal quality of the grotto that this waterfall plunged into. I worked the scene and settled on the more distant perspective below.

Bridal Veil Falls opens up into a creek that flows through dense forest, Columbia River Gorge, Oregon. Canon 24-70mm f/2.8L lens with the EOS-5D MkII. ISO 200. Evaluative metering -1 EV: 2 sec. at f/16.

The best part of this photo excursion is that I only scratched the surface of the multitude of waterfalls along the Gorge. With so much water flowing into the Columbia River, and so many overcast days (smile), this area really can be a photographer’s paradise.

Clouds hang over the tufa at sunset, Mono Lake, CA. Canon 24-70mm f/2.8L lens with the EOS-5D MkII. ISO 50. Evaluative metering 0 EV: 8 sec. at f/22

After a first evening of disappointing skies at Mono Lake, I went back later in the week on my recent trip to the eastern Sierra. Some clouds were building in the afternoon, and it looked like it would be a decent evening for sunset.

In my mind’s eye, I envisioned still waters, mirrored reflections of tufa, and a lightly clouded sunset sky. The sky was certainly shaping up, but late in the afternoon, the wind picked up and blew away any chance of tufa reflections. Because the wind was blowing the water into small waves hitting the shore, I decided instead to use a longer exposure to translate that lake motion into a quiet mist.

I knew that the tall tufa spires I had previsualized were out – I needed something smaller to use as a foreground to lead the eye into the lake. Whenever using a long exposure to create a water mist effect, I always juxtapose the water against razor sharp, highly detailed subjects. These usually end up being rocks, but in this case, tufa would work just as well. I walked along the shore until I found what I was looking for.

Trying to achieve a longer shutter speed, I added a circular polarizer and lowered my ISO to 50, giving me an 8 second exposure. This was plenty of time to soften the water, giving me the sought after effect. I moved back and forth, forward and backward, working the composition until I was happy with it.

After the sun had set, I walked back along the shore looking for subjects that would work well in twilight. The composition in the photo below caught my eye, and I made a quick photograph on my way back to the car.

A stillness descends on Mono Lake just after sunset. Canon 24-70mm f/2.8L lens with the EOS-5D MkII. ISO 200. Evaluative metering +1/3: 8 sec. at f/16

On my second visit to Mono Lake, I was much more satisfied with the weather, giving me clouds to add a little texture to the sky. But I had to remain nimble in my thinking to work with and accommodate the wind. Sometimes all the planning and thinking about a place must be thrown out the window, but what you get in return may be unexpected and a great reward.

The eclipse begins

The earth's shadow moves across the moon

The earth's shadow consumes more than half of the moon

The moon reflects a dull red from the shadow of the earth

The lunar eclipse at its peak

The last photo was taken at the peak of the eclipse, with the sun and the moon on exact opposite sides of the earth. To understand why the moon glows red when fully in the earth’s shadow, it is easier to think of what the earth would look like from the moon. From the moon’s perspective, at the peak of the eclipse, the earth would be ringed with red outline of the sun. It would be like watching all sunrises and sunsets all across the planet, all at the same time. This red wavelength is cast by the earth’s atmosphere into the earth’s shadow (the center of the silhouetted earth, ringed by the sun), which is then reflected by the moon back to us as a dull red glow. It was definitely a cool phenomenon to witness and photograph.

Silken water reflects the gold colors of fall, South Fork Bishop Creek, Inyo National Forest, CA

Water pours over rocks, South Fork Bishop Creek, Inyo National Forest, CA

I was photographing along Bishop Creek when I came across the scene in the first photo. I was attracted to the aesthetics of the small ripple in the creek, and thought it would make a strong foreground element. There were slight color reflections in the water, and I loved how the water poured over the top of the rocks. After taking the shot, I realized that my foreground element was strong enough to stand alone as more of an abstract. So I moved closer, recomposed, and took the second photo.

So, which is the better photo? Tell us which you like better and why in the comments below.

A crescent moon glows in the warm colors of sunset as it sets behind the crest of the Sierra.

This week’s shot was taken a few weeks ago from high atop the crest of the White Mountains, at about 11,500 feet elevation. The moon was setting about half an hour behind the sun, providing an opportunity for a nice crescent moon, lit up by the dramatic colors of sunset. My particular location allowed me to anchor the photo with the silhouetted crest of the eastern Sierra, giving the image weight and a sense of scale and perspective.

On the technical side, in order to achieve this photo, I had to pull out all the stops. In order to keep the shutter speed down, I bumped up my ISO to 200 (I try to shoot most of my landscape work at 100). I didn’t want to go any higher, so I could keep the dark, rich tones of the sunset relatively noise free. I used my 100-400L lens at 310mm, and locked it down onto my tripod. I also made sure to turn off the image stabilizer, because if it kicked in here, it would most likely lead to a blurrier photo than I’d get without it. Finally, I locked up the mirror and set the camera to a 2 second self-timer mode. Unlike Nikon, with the 2 second self-timer, Canon cameras will lock the mirror when you press the shutter release, wait two seconds, and then trip the shutter. This allows the camera itself 2 seconds to settle down after being rattled by the vibration of the mirror slap. Normally, none of this matters, but at this magnification along with the 1.3 second shutter speed I used, even small vibrations will degrade the photo. I framed my shot, held my breath, and pressed the shutter release. Two seconds later I had the photo I wanted.

A long exposure turns the flowing water of Eagle Creek to silk, Eagle Cap Wilderness, Oregon

On the last evening of my recent backpacking trip to Eagle Cap Wilderness, I had some time to photograph Eagle Creek, which was close to camp. Through a combination of the late hour of the day and my polarized filter, I was forced to use a slow shutter speed.

When photographing movement (especially water), a slow shutter is often desired, so I decided to accentuate the effect by setting the camera to ISO 50 (instead of my usual ISO 100 setting for landscapes). This gave me a shutter speed of 6 seconds at f/16, rendering to the rushing water into a smooth abstract. The polarized filter took all the reflective sheen off of the vegetation, allowing the green bushes to pop.

This image could have benefited from a slightly wider angle lens. Unfortunately, after much internal debate, I had decided not to bring by 17-40mm lens along on the trail (purely a weight issue). I use the 24-70mm lens for most of my backpacking work, but in the future, I will probably carry the wider lens with me for occasions like this.

Below are a couple more shots from the creek.

The surface of the water appears to be smooth, due to the long exposure. Eagle Cap Wilderness, Oregon

This shot was taken above Eagle Creek, looking down at the water, Eagle Cap Wilderness, Oregon

The day was overcast and drizzly – perfect for forest photography. The trail out to the falls meandered through a coastal redwood forest, with massive trees on either side of the trail.

The trail winds between massive redwood trees

Eventually the trail meets up with Berry Creek, which ultimately makes several drops on its way to the Pacific Ocean, creating a series of waterfalls, each with their own unique characteristics. The waterfall below is Golden Cascade, which is actually made up of two sections – upper and lower cascade. The upper cascade seemed to glow a dull orange in the soft filtered light of the forest.

The golden-orange color of upper golden cascade derives its name from the brown algae living on the sandstone

At the very bottom of the cascade was a small pool surrounded by a mud bank and the root system of a fallen giant. Water poured over the bark of a long-dead log. Because the mud bank surrounded the pool on all sides, in order to get this shot, I set up my tripod sideways, with the legs sticking into the soft bank behind me. I held the tripod against the slope so that the pressure kept if from moving. From this tight angle, my widest lens couldn’t cover the entire falls. In order to compose the picture, I used a panoramic stitching technique to combine five total vertical photos.

Green surrounds the lowest section of Golden Cascade along the Berry Creek Falls trail, Big Basin Redwoods State Park

Finally we came to Berry Creek Falls, the tallest (and most picturesque) waterfall along the loop. There is a nice observation deck about halfway up the falls that offers the hiker a good view.

Picturesque Berry Creek Falls plunges 40 feet, Big Basin Redwoods State Park

After this point the trail ascends up the other side of the ravine from the falls. There is a point at a bend in the trail that offers a great view of the falls through the forest. The shot below was another panoramic composite of about 7 photos. Once stitched together, it created a TIFF file of over 1 GB (an 81 megapixel image), which allowed me to make a 20 x 60 inch print.

Berry Creek Falls can be seen through the lush redwood forest, Big Basin Redwoods State Park

Finally, the trail connected up to Waddell Creek and followed it up-river. After witnessing the waterfalls, this creek bed was no less scenic. Lush green moss and ferns blanketed the rocks and soil along the creek as the trail wound back up the mountain.

Waddell Creek flows through a green forest along the Berry Creek Falls trail, Big Basin Redwoods State Park

As we climbed away from the creek, a soft rain came down and cooled us on our final ascent. Overall, it was a perfect time of year and a perfect day on which to experience the park. The weather kept most hikers away, giving us long stretches of this normally busy trail to ourselves.

Pescadero has three separate parking areas off of Highway 1. For photography, my favorite is the middle one because of the interesting rock formations just off the coast. For wide sandy beaches, either the northern or southern lots would be the best bet.

The following two images were taken of the surf swirling around some off-shore rock formations. Because of the very low ambient light, a long exposure was needed, which gives the water that misty smoke look.

Ambient light casts the scene in shades of blue, Pescadero State Beach, California

The movement of the tidal flow is captured by a long exposure in pre-dawn light along the California coast

At this time of the morning, the sun hadn’t yet risen above the horizon, but the eastern sky was reflecting some vibrant oranges and yellows. The image below was taken facing east, in the opposite direction of the previous two photos.

Morning light crests the horizon and is reflected in a shallow tidal estuary, Pescadero State Beach, California

Once the sun had peaked the horizon, the western sky finally was lit up in the reds and oranges of sunrise. The following image was taken just after sunrise, looking west. The light was dim enough to still require a long exposure (though not as long as the first two images), but now the sky and water were a completely different color.

A high tide moves in over off shore rocks at dawn, Pescadero State Beach, California

And looking south, the morning light was even more spectacular.

Pastel oranges and aquas emerge at sunrise, Pescadero State Beach, California

About 20 minutes after sunrise, the entire landscape was well lit. The truly special light of “magic hour” had gone, but with the sun still so low on the horizon, everything was bathed in soft warm light, with no harsh shadows. The following images was one of the last I took before I packed up my gear and headed home.

Morning light touches the orange sandstone cliffs at Pescadero State Beach, California