On my recent trip to the Owens Valley, I tried to look for good panorama opportunities. These situations arise when there is an expansive vista that lends well to an image that is three to six times wider than it is high. As with any photograph, one thing to keep in mind is to make sure the entire contents of the frame supports the photograph. There should be no large empty areas, unless those areas purposefully support the image with negative space.
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.
On my trip to the Owens Valley last month, I spent a night up in the Ancient Bristlecone Pine Forest with some friends. This forest runs across the ridge of the White Mountains in Inyo National Forest. It is an inhospitable environment, with a barren landscape, freezing weather, and frequent gale-force winds blasting across exposed rock. It is also one of my favorite places on earth.
This was the first time that I was in that area for both sunset and the following sunrise. A few small clouds moved in at sunset (above), providing some texture to the sky.
At sunrise, I had unobstructed views of the sun rising over the eastern horizon, across the Nevada desert. Similar to the intense alpenglow of the eastern Sierra peaks, at this elevation the trees turn an unworldly red glow at dawn. From a distance, these bare, twisted branches can transform into the wild licking flames of a campfire.
The early tree-glow gave way to direct sun on the bark. This was prime time to capture the morning light, and the race was on to photograph as much as possible before it faded. Of course, working along a steep slope at 11,500 in deep snow is not easy! Soon I was panting for breath and my heart was racing out of my chest. In these types of environments, it is better to pick a spot with several morning light opportunities and stay there.
Photographing these trees in the right way is not an easy task. I learned this the hard way when I first visited the forest. Having seen many amazing photographs from Galen Rowell and David Meunch taken in this area, I was expecting a lot. But I came away with less than desirable photographs, and a deeper appreciation for the difficulty in photographing these trees well. The key is to take it slow and spend some time with the trees. Not to get too metaphysical, but it helps to sit with a tree, and listen. Each time I go back, I feel as though I understand the trees a little better, and my photos improve just a little more. Some day, I may just do them justice.
After waiting all summer for the snow to melt out of the high country, I finally ventured north of Tioga Road with some friends from college for a weekend backpacking trip. Instead of my usual high mileage days, our focus was on leisure time in the backcountry, which gave me plenty of time for photography. We hiked into the Ten Lakes region – an area featuring a chain of lakes with forested streams in between them, all draining into the Tuolumne River far below.
We found a campsite at the far end of a small lake. The site was situated atop a thirty foot cliff, giving us a commanding view of the lake and surrounding cliffs. Behind us rose an unnamed granite peak, offering the camp a nice backdrop. Best of all however, was the nearby stream dropping from an upper lake into the lake below. There was an endless variety of small pools and cascades, giving me plenty of material to work with.
Just before sunset on our first night, the clouds started moving in. While other campers might have cast a worrisome eye to the skies, I was elated. I knew that the chance for a dramatic sunset was greatly increased with the changing weather conditions, and thankfully I was rewarded with one. The best part – I only had to walk about ten yards from our campsite to get the view I wanted. Given it required almost no work on my part, I almost felt guilty.
The next morning was bright and clear. I woke up early to explore the area, and see what the morning had to offer. Our little lake looked quite different in the morning, and I took advantage of the still air to get a nice reflection in the background of a camp-side stream photo. I can never get enough of Sierra Nevada granite.
This day was a rest day – full of fishing and exploring some of the other lakes in the chain. Working our way up to a higher lake, we saw there were still huge slabs of snow right at the shoreline. Going higher still, we found a lake with no fish, but a perfect spot for a mid day swim. There is something very special about having an entire lake to yourself in the most populated state in the nation. Of course, along the way, I also had plenty more opportunities for photos.
After exhausting ourselves and getting a great night of sleep, it was time to head back to the real world. It was a great trip, with beautiful landscape and only seven miles of hiking each way. While the location was not as remote as most of my Sierra trips, I enjoyed the slower pace and additional time for photography. I’ll definitely have to work in more trips like this in the future!
I took this photo last week of a local burrowing owl, whose burrow I had discovered the week before when out scouting with a couple of local birders. Since the light was poor that day, I returned later to get the bird in the nice warm light of sunrise.
I found the owl sitting upright in the burrow, not crouched low as I’ve seen other owls. He seemed quite comfortable with my presence. He was situated on the edge of a golf course, and I was able to photograph him while standing on a paved road, so I’m guessing that he is quite used to people being in the vicinity. I was careful not to approach too closely however, as the too much human contact with a burrow has been known to displace owls permanently. As much as I liked the lighting and the photos, he never did pop out of his hole, and I wanted to try to get photos of him up out of the ground.
I returned two mornings later, this time a half hour earlier, so I could be there for day break. As I approached, I was excited to see the owl perched on a low branch of a nearby tree. I photographed the owl as the sun rose behind me, lighting the bird like a spotlight, while leaving the background dark. In order to compensate for a much brighter bird than the background, I had to dial down my exposure compensation to -2/3 of a stop, so as not to blow out the highlights of the owl.
In order to keep the ISO as low as possible, I opened up to the lens’ maximum aperture (5.6), knowing that with the owl’s fairly flat features, I could still get its entire face sharp at that depth of field. The shutter speed was just fast enough to photograph without needing to lock down the gimbal head of my tripod. However, because my subject wasn’t moving, I didn’t have to pan the lens with the bird, so I locked it down anyway, eliminating any chance of lens shake.
Soon after the photo above was taken, the sun rose higher in the sky and was casting small shadows into the owl’s large eyes. Sometimes the lighting is perfect for a given situation only for a few moments. While the owl was still in the tree at the time I left that morning, I knew it would only be a matter of time before it returned to its burrow for the day.