Clutching the remains of a fish he caught, an osprey takes off out of a nest after he delivered dinner to his nesting mate, Mono Lake, CA. Canon 800mm f/5.6L IS lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 1600. Evaluative metering 0 EV: 1/320 sec. at f/5.6
Last week I took a photography trip to the eastern Sierra to capture some spring time action over there. I went with a photographer friend to the south end of Mono Lake in hopes of a great sunset. Unfortunately, the skies were clear and the light was flat. Instead of a lasting sunset glow, it was as if someone just turned out the lights.
Fortunately, there were two pairs of osprey nesting near the shore in large nests built on top of two tufa towers. Just before dusk, the males came in close to the nests with fresh-caught fish. We had a brief show during which they perched on nearby tufa towers, enjoying their dinner, before they returned to the nests to deliver what was left to their respective mates.
An osprey clutches the remains of a fish in its talon as it perches on top of a tufa tower, Mono Lake, CA
During this time, the sun set and the light left. However, just before it got completely dark, I managed to get a shot of one of the males leaving the nest with the rest of the fish dinner. Because the sun was well over the horizon, it back lit the birds. I knew I could not get enough detail on the birds, so I underexposed and went with a full silhouette, emphasizing the graphical shape of the osprey taking off.
A greater yellowlegs stands in shallow water, reflecting the golden colors of sunset. Canon 800mm f/5.6L IS lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 800. Evaluative metering +1: 1/400 sec. at f/6.3
The photo this week features the greater yellowlegs. They are somewhat common in the Bay area throughout the winter, usually seen in ones or twos. On this day, I came across two yellowlegs foraging with a willet in a shallow, narrow slough. It was late afternoon and the sun was just starting to reach the horizon, so I knew I didn’t have much light left in which to shoot. Unfortunately, all three were in the deep shadow of the high bank of the slough, so I wasn’t getting that sweet sunset light that I was after.
Just then a runner appeared on the trail paralleling the slough, and decided to stop and watch these birds. Once he stopped, all three flushed and flew a hundred yards north to a spot where the bank lowered and the slough opened up. Lucky me! For once, I benefited from someone chasing away the birds I was photographing. I quickly (and much more carefully than the runner) repositioned myself to their new location, very happy to see that all three birds were now bathed in golden light. I had less than a minute of these lighting conditions before the sun finally dipped below the mountains.
A greater yellowlegs forages for food in shallow water. Canon 800mm f/5.6L IS lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 800. Evaluative metering +1: 1/400 sec. at f/6.3
An ancient bristlecone pine reflects the last rays of daylight, White Mountains, CA
On my recent trip to the eastern Sierra to photograph the fall colors, I visited the Ancient Bristlecone Pine Forest in the White Mountains, part of the Inyo National Forest. I had done some reading about the area from books such as David Muench’s classic Timberline Ancients (out of print), and several of Galen Rowell’s insightful essays from Vision and Inner Game of Outdoor Photography. But actually being there and walking among these trees was a spiritual experience, and one I will not soon forget.
We were blessed with a recent snow storm that blanketed the crest of the White Mountains – not enough to close the road, and just enough to provide a clean contrast to the rough, twisted texture of the bristlecone. We were working an exposed western-facing slope, and after taking a few establishing shots, I climbed to the top of the hill. I quickly remembered that I was at 11,500 feet in elevation, as I was out of breath after only a few steps! My goal in the photo above was to capture the vibrant colors of sunset reflected in the wood of the bristlecone, while also getting the colors in the opposite horizon, as well as the earth shadow as it crept across the eastern foothills and Nevada desert beyond. The warm pastels in the wood are continued in the sunset colors of the sky above.
All lengths of lens work here, depending on your personal style and vision – whether it is to shoot a distant mountain top grove with a telephoto, or to crawl up inside the gnarled spiral of a branch with a fish-eye. The challenge in shooting these trees is to try to decide what to include and what to leave out of the frame. One question I kept coming back to that helped me to focus was, “What is the main point of this photo?” If my answer was “the texture of this branch,” then why include the roots of the tree? If my answer was “to show the desolate environment in which these trees live,” then I knew to shoot wide and and treat an entire group of trees as the main subject.
Below are a few more photos I took while exploring the bristlecone forest.
A bristlecone log frames an upright tree, both of which have lived for thousands of years, White Mountains, CAA bristlecone pine grows from a desolate, snowy mountainside, White Mountains, CAFresh snows blankets the slopes of the White Mountains, framing the ancient bristlecone pines that live there
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.
