Earlier this month I made a trip to Bishop, CA and the surrounding areas to see what the autumn colors had to offer this year. I knew it would be unpredictable, given the huge snowfall of the previous winter, combined with this year’s short summer. The weather played one final card as an early snow storm moved in right before my trip, dumping snow in the mountains. Unfortunately, this snow killed off the trademark fall color of the eastern Sierra, turning those golden Aspen leaves to brown and black. However, I was treated to a pristine white mountain backdrop, at least for a few days.
When I got into town, I met up with photographer friend Dan Canfield, and set out to the Chalk Bluffs north of Bishop for the first sunset of the trip. As dusk approached, it looked like the sunset would be a dud. One small wispy cloud mocked our photographic anticipation.
However, as the sun crept toward the eastern mountains, dramatic clouds began building up and materializing above the horizon. Once the sun set behind the range, we were treated to twenty minutes of pure (and frantic) delight. The colors played across the ever-changing clouds, which congealed and dissipated with casual acquaintance. Soon it was all over, as the sun slipped away yet again.
These moments always pass too quickly, but that’s part of what makes them so special. I felt blessed to witness such a powerful display of natural forces in one of our earth’s special places. Stay tuned for much more from this trip – I’m processing the photos as quickly as time allows!
A couple of weeks ago my friend Steve and I finally headed into the Sierra high country for a long-overdue back-country excursion. Due to the heavy snow pack this year and busy schedules, this turned out to be our only trip of the summer. To make the most of it, we chose to visit the Ansel Adams Wilderness, arguably one of the most scenic regions of the Sierra.
Hiking out of June Lakes and up Rush Creek, we hit less than ideal weather. The climb was a brutal slog (4200 ft of gain), and thunder clouds began to congregate in the western sky. A biting wind whipped us from all sides, making even the flat spots (of which there were few) seem like a chore.
Finally we reached our destination – Thousand Island Lake. Rising above the lake was the impressive Banner Peak, but most of it was obscured by thick clouds. This is a very scenic and popular spot. Sitting next to both the Pacific Crest Trail and the John Muir Trail, it receives an enormous number of visitors each summer. Even though it was after Labor Day, and the weather was no good, there were still quite a few backpackers settling in for the night along the north shore of the lake. I’d hate to see this place on a mid-August weekend!
We set up camp and soon the weather was too cold to even wait for darkness to fall. We were in our tents by 7pm.
Dawn brought clear weather and introduced me to an entirely new landscape. The wind was gone, and Banner Peak was reflected like a mirror in all its morning glory. I finally got out my camera and began to hunt for shots. The day before I took only four photos the entire day.
After finally warming up, we packed up camp and decided to get away from the crowds. We headed north off trail. We only had one ridge to climb before descending into Davis Lakes. It was our shortest hiking day on record, but given the beautiful scenery we were surrounded by, we couldn’t complain.
We spent a leisurely afternoon by lower Davis Lake, and I scouted the area so that I would be prepared when the evening’s magic hour arrived. I was not disappointed, with views to the south (above) and to the north (below).
After another long night in our tents, I woke long before dawn and watched the world slowly light up around me while I was hunkered behind my lens. It was our last morning out, and it didn’t disappoint. The landscape had a wholly different feel than in the sunset light the night before.
The lake shore had many interesting boulders and grass features to position in the foreground. This helped to keep the shots varied and gave me plenty to work with in terms of composition.
Soon the morning’s sweetest light was gone, but I was confident that I had captured at least a little of the beauty around me. It was time to pack up and start the long hike out.
Despite the problematic weather at the beginning of our trip, I thought it turned out very well. I was glad to have visited this area, and know that I’ll be back to photograph it more in depth.
This week’s photo involved nothing more than setting up my camera and walking out my front door. The cherry tree in my front yard is a welcome perch for birds flying in to survey the feeding station. However, they usually only stay still for a brief few seconds before moving to the bird feeders. Here, patience and a quick trigger finger save the day.
When I’m photographing birds in the front yard with my long lens, I always use an extension tube to decrease the minimum focus distance of the lens. Otherwise, even standing all the way across the yard, I’m too close and can’t get a focus lock on anything in the yard. This closer distance allows small birds to fill the frame, but makes photographing large birds impossible, unless I’m just going for a head shot or head and shoulders portrait (and how many mourning dove portraits do you really need?)
This week’s photo features a popular favorite – the burrowing owl. This species exists throughout the Bay Area (if you know where to look), but every year their habitat is either destroyed or urbanized. Instead of living in a natural grassland habitat, they are now more often found on golf courses or other large landscaped areas (such as corporate campuses). Fortunately burrowing owl advocates tend to be passionate and active, which may yet give this species a fighting chance.
The burrowing owl is one of the more photographed species of owl in the Bay Area, mostly due to the fact that they are non-nocturnal, and burrow away from trees in more open areas. That is not to say they are easy to find, however. I’ve located an owl in its burrow with my long lens before, then looked up and was unable to locate it with my naked eye. Their camouflage is so good sometimes, that people almost step on them before they see them.
I found this owl in the Alviso area of San Jose. There were high overcast skies, which can be very good for bird photography. The shadows are softened so you can shoot all day. In the lower image I used a fill flash to introduce a catch-light to the bird’s eye. Neither images are cropped – a testament to the power of the 800mm lens.