I took this photograph in February, but just now had a chance to process it and get it up on my site. With the spring migration ending, and way too much snow still in the high Sierra, I’ve been biding my time photographically by culling through some older shots that I was too busy to attend to when I took them.
This photo features one of several white-faced ibises that make an annual appearance at Palo Alto Baylands every winter. Seemingly out of place in the Bay Area, there are always at least one or two that stop by for a couple of weeks. Usually, they hang out far into the marshes, but occasionally they come closer within camera distance. Then it becomes a game of patience.
I was watching this ibis for about an hour and a half as the sun was creeping toward the horizon behind me. With each passing minute, the light got sweeter, but my opportunity for getting a shot that stood out was vanishing. Then, just before the light started to fade, he made a quick thrust into the shallow water, and up came a small fish. He seemed quite proud of himself, and actually strutted around a bit with the fish before consuming it. All the while my shutter clicked away. This was my favorite photo from the day – a proud ibis with his fresh catch.
Last week I spent the evening in Arastradero Preserve in Palo Alto in order to photograph Lazuli Buntings as they returned to the Bay Area for the summer. I hiked for a while through grassy hills spotted with oak trees, past wet marshy areas, and through dark oak woodland, still not seeing any of the buntings. I stopped and played their call on my iPhone. From every direction, dozens of voices answered my call. I then realized that I had been surrounded by buntings all day, I just had not recognized their bird song.
It was as though a veil had been lifted, and I started seeing them everywhere. As the sun started to drop to the west, I saw many buntings move to the treetops, hoping to sing out to the world in those last rays of the day.
Earlier this month I had the pleasure of attending a short three-day workshop with David Muench, one of this country’s preeminent landscape photographers. Assisting him was Jerry Dodrill, who spend his early professional photography career working for Galen Rowel. It was great to catch up with both of them, and see some of the best that the eastern Sierra has to offer in the spring. It was a busy three days, during which I averaged about four hours of sleep per night. I spent a few days on either end of the workshop to meet up with friends and do a little exploring on my own. Here are a few photographs from the trip.
The photo above and directly below were taken in early morning in the Alabama Hills, just outside of Lone Pine. It is an area famous not only for the sheer face of the eastern Sierra and the multitude of arches that frame them, but also for the many movies made here. Recent films include Iron Man, Gladiator, and Gone In 60 Seconds. Driving out on the dusty dirt road after sunrise, we saw two women walking along the road. I did a double take as I saw one of them was Penny Marshall. Really weird place to see a Hollywood celebrity!
I love the barrel cactus growing in this area, and wanted to feature one using the backdrop of Mt. Whitney and Mt. Langley.
This photograph is a more straight-forward interpretation, using the layering of rock bands to lead up to Mt. Langley. The area offers infinite patterns of boulders and rocks, many of which can be composed into very strong photographs. This is one of many areas for which David Meunch is famous.
The mountains to the west of Bishop provide a dramatic backdrop for a variety of foreground locations and environments. The above photo used a small pond in a flooded field to create a reflection of Mt. Humphreys, Basin Mountain, and Mt. Tom (from left to right). The morning was clear with not a cloud in the sky (not a photographer’s best conditions for shooting!) The lack of wind was great for reflections, but the lack of clouds reduced the drama of the morning significantly. This is one of those examples of a great location with imperfect conditions. It is definitely a spot I hope to revisit and capture with more dramatic skies.
Our last evening brought a special sunset treat – a long line of lenticular clouds that formed above the Sierra crest had blown out over the Owen’s Valley. With strong winds out of the west, there was no cloud buildup in that direction, allowing the sun to light up the underside of the lenticulars at sunset. This phenomenon can happen regularly in the area due to the local topography, and has come to be know as the “Sierra wave”.
It was a great trip – I got to spend time with friends and meet some new ones. Although nature photography tends to be a “solo sport”, it can be great fun meeting up with like-minded people.
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.
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.