Early morning light peeks around the cliff, lighting the coastal vegetation with a soft glow
Winter and early spring is a great time to shoot sunrise out at the coast – there are fewer mornings of the dense fog common in the summer. It can be quite frustrating to get out of bed 1 to 1 1/2 hours before sunrise (it is best to be in place at least 30 minutes before sunrise), drive out to the coast, only to find a thick marine layer obscuring your view and all of the good light. However, those special mornings when everything seems to click make it all worth the effort.
Realistically, many people only shoot sunsets, and usually only serendipitously. It can be a great way to capture being in a special place at a special time. The next time you see a beautiful sunset, take a few moments to point your lens at your surroundings, especially if the western horizon is clear of clouds. Sometimes the most glorious (reflected) light will be directly behind you.
The moon sets behind off-shore fog, cast in a purple hue from the rising sun
On a recent morning out at the coast, I was lucky enough to have the conditions of a clear sky, a full moon, and a moonset close to the moment of sunrise. My goal had been to use my longest telephoto lens to zoom in on the moon and capture it setting over the horizon, or behind on offshore rock formation. By using my long lens, the moon would have appeared huge.
However, as soon as I got to my desired location (in the dark of course), I saw that the morning also brought with it the typical fog bank looming just off shore. Once the moon set behind this layer of cloud, it would be gone – long before ever reaching the horizon.
I now had to quickly decide what kind of image this new challenge would allow me. With the rising sun behind me, I was sure to get some interesting colors off of the fog. The telephoto lens would no longer work for this composure because with no strong elements (only moon and fog), the photo might lack interest. I looked around and saw and old fence that could serve well as a silhouetted foreground. I set up my tripod with my 24-70mm zoom just in time to capture the moon before it disappeared behind the fog.
A harbor seal glances up after a rising tide awakens him from his slumber
I took this photo last week in Moss Beach, just north of Half Moon Bay. At low tide, harbor seals can sometimes be seen lounging on the exposed rocks, far away from the beach. However, I was here at dawn, and it was still about an hour away from high tide. I knew the rocks would be covered, and I was hoping I might see some along the beach. Unfortunately, the tide was in much further than I thought it would, leaving only about 20 feet between the sea cliff and the pounding surf.
Not seeing any seals, I decided to focus instead on landscapes. I set up my tripod at the base on the path going down to the beach. As I was setting up a shot, far in the distance down the beach I saw movement. This had to be the seals. I re-evaluated the tide situation, and figured if I gave myself a strict time limit, I should be able to make it down the beach and back before the tide rose to the bottom of the cliff (kids don’t try this at home). Not wanting to get stranded against a cliff and sucked out to sea, I gave myself 10 minutes to get a shot and get out.
I preset the camera controls and got my long lens ready, then did my fastest “stealth” walk I could muster. As I got closer, I saw there was one seal left on the beach, the others having gone into the ocean (I believe this was the movement I had seen when I was down the beach). He appeared fast asleep. Just then, a large wave came in and broke just below him, sending water underneath him, and waking him up. He only looked up once, but I was ready. I got the shot, and knew it was time to get out of there.
Have you ever gone out with a particular type of photography in mind (birds, landscapes, macro, etc), only to find a perfect opportunity for something complete different? The problem is that usually when this occurs, you have the wrong equipment. However, it is better to improvise with what you have with you than to miss that opportunity altogether. Below are two examples of when I ran into this exact situation.
Although I did not have my telephoto lens, using stalking techniques, I was able to get close enough with my wide angle to capture this egret and some habitat
The photo above was taken along 17-mile drive near Carmel, California. My wife and I were out for the day with nothing in mind – just being touristy. I had my SLR and a wide/mid range zoom with me – a decent walking around lens that could work for landscapes if needed. As we were driving along the coast, we saw this great egret very close to the road in beautiful light. Immediately I cursed myself for not bringing a longer lens, but I figured I’d try to see what I could do with what I had with me. We drove past the bird and I got out and slowly stalked back along the road toward it, trying to get as close as possible. Luckily the traffic was light this early in the morning. Obviously, I wouldn’t come away with a head portrait, but maybe I could get a decent habitat shot.
I slowly crept forward, hoping to intercept the bird if it kept moving in the same direction. Every few steps I’d stop and stand still, hoping the egret would not get spooked and fly off. Ultimately it payed off – the egret ended up walking very close to my position. I fired off a few shots of the bird with the ocean in the background. Through careful stalking technique, and by not giving up because I didn’t have the “perfect” equipment with me, I was able to capture one of my favorite shots of the trip.
This panorama of Mt. Lassen was composed of 26 separate shots using a long telephoto lens
Recently I was up at Lassen Volcanic National Park and I decided to take a walk around Summit Lake, hoping to get some shots of some forest birds. As a result, I had only my long telephoto with me (not a great walking around lens, as the lens alone weighs 3 pounds!) As I came around to the side of the lake furthest from Mt. Lassen, I found myself in almost the exact opposite situation as with the great egret shot above. I had a long telephoto, but I really needed a wide angle lens to capture the mountain, trees and lake.
At first I tried several compositions with my lens, but it was no good – only a small portion of the mountain was in frame at one time. Then an idea hit me – by combining many zoomed-in photos of the mountain and the surrounding scenery, I could combine them into a single panorama, mimicking the angle of view of a wide angle lens. I had shot panos before, but I was still too close in for my regular panning left to right method. However, if I created several rows of images, and I used a steady hand, it might work. I metered off the sky, set manual exposure and focus, and then spot metered several different areas of my scene to make sure I would stay within the dynamic range possible with the camera.
Starting at the upper left area of the scene I wanted to capture, I started taking photos (hand held), overlapping each by about 30%. Once I got to about the same distance from the mountain on the right that I started with on the left, I moved the composition back to the left, but slightly lower than my previous row of photos. The result was two rows of 13 photos each, creating a single panorama of 26 photos, and a 140 megapixel image. Thanks to Photoshop’s fantastic Photomerge technology, creating the final image was a snap (though my machine took a little time to crunch through the processing).
If I had planned for a panorama of the mountain from the offset, I would have used a much wider angle (and a tripod). However, I was quite happy with what could be done in a pinch with a little improvising.
