Don’t get me wrong – I love my big lens. My primary lens for bird photography is the Canon 800mm, which serves as a real workhorse. However, there are times while using that lens that I get frustrated. One of the lens’ limiting factors is its minimum focus distance. I can’t bring any subject closer than 16 feet into focus, which means that very small things (for example, hummingbirds) still appear fairly small in frame. What to do about this limitation? Enter the extension tube!
An anna’s hummingbird pauses from its rapid flight to warm itself in the sun
Recently I took an out of town colleague to some of my favorite local bird sites. We found an area rife with anna’s hummingbirds, zipping this way and that, and generally causing a ruckus as they battled each other over territory. I took some shots, but couldn’t get close enough to these little creatures to fill the frame. I resolved to come back the following day, this time armed with my full array of extension tubes.
Luckily the hummingbirds were still there, sparring and resting, and this time in beautiful light. I wanted to get as close as possible, so I stacked three tubes together and placed them in between my camera body and lens. This allowed me to get as close as about 10-12 feet away from the birds, finally filling my frame. Creeping closer yet, I wanted to push my extension tubes to their limit, and was able to get the image below.
An anna’s hummingbird perches on a small branch and opens its beak
Extension tubes have no optics in them, and can even be in the form of cardboard – no electronics required! My tubes happen to have small contacts that still allow me to use my lens’ autofocus system, albeit much slower than normal.
The principal of an extension tube is to move the rear focusing element of the lens further away from the focal point, which in today’s world means the camera’s digital sensor. The effect is that the lens’ minimum focus distance is reduced, allowing the entire rig to move closer to the subject while keeping it in focus. The downside is that with extension tubes attached, the lens will no longer be able to focus to infinity.
In comparison to most photography gear, extension tubes are relatively cheap. I have a set of Kenko tubes that stack together. If you ever want to dabble in macro photography, I recommend first getting a (cheap) set to tubes before spending bigger bucks on dedicated macro lens. Yes, the macro lens will give you better quality, but a set of extension tubes will allow you to bring your entire collection of lenses into the macro world.
Years ago, I wrote about how long lenses give the photographer the ability to completely change the background of the image they’re working on while still behind the camera. With a slight move left, right, up or down, you can change the angle of your shot, and sometimes change the background elements that appear behind your subject. Because long lenses help blur the background into solid colors, this can change the look and mood of your photo without changing the main subject.
I’m always looking for these opportunities while photographing wildlife. Photo editors constantly seek variety, so when I’m on a bird, I try to get as many poses, expressions, and backgrounds as possible. I think of it like an outdoor “studio” session, giving me the ability to come up with scene changes for my subject. (I still haven’t figured out how to do wardrobe changes, but that is a topic for another post!)
In the photos below, I first photographed the greater yellowlegs with the shoreline of a lake as the background. The background blurred to a nice tan-brown. I then changed my angle by swinging around to the left, and now the lake was behind the bird, coloring the background in a blue wash.
A greater yellowlegs stands on the railing of a dock. The background color comes from a distant shoreline behind the dock.
You can achieve similar color changes using reflection (and patience) as well. In the photos below, I didn’t change my position, but just waited for the bird to move instead. When I first photographed this pied-billed grebe, it was fishing and diving close to shore. The colors of the shoreline were reflected in the surface of the water, contributing dominant oranges to the photograph. I knew that this bird was likely to move away from the shore eventually, so I sat a waiting, hoping to capture that color variety. I didn’t have to wait long before this happened, with an added bonus of the grebe moving closer to me, filling my frame. The blue sky reflected off the water, giving the photo an entirely different look.
A pied-billed grebe is reflected in the still water near the shore of a lake. The color reflected in the water comes from the nearby shore.
The next time you’re out photographing with a longer lens (depending on your subject, anything over 100mm can work well), think about trying different backgrounds with your subject. This works great on people pictures as well!
It is once again that time of year where we assemble compilations of the best and worst of the previous 12 months. Here are the results of culling through my many photos from 2012. Looking back it was a nice mixture of birds, wildlife, and landscapes. I had great photo trips to Death Valley and Grand Teton National Parks, but didn’t spend quite as much time in the High Sierra as I would have liked. Please enjoy the gallery below. For best viewing (especially if viewing on a mobile device), please click on the following photo:
Click the photo above to see the top picks from 2012!
Or, just enjoy the gallery here on the page. To view larger photos in the embedded gallery below, be sure to click the icon in the lower right corner to enter full screen mode.
When we pulled up to the stand of aspen that Jack had scouted earlier, I could tell he was hopefully optimistic about the coming sunset. I was participating in a 5 day photo workshop with landscape legend Jack Dykinga, and this was our first field excursion of the workshop. We were in Grand Teton National Park and the weather had been less than optimal, with thick smoke sitting on the floor of the valley, extirpating any hope of a clear view of the mountains. However, earlier in the day, there had been a shift in the wind, and the weather forecast called for a storm moving through in the next couple of days.
“You know, we might just get a killer sunset,” Jack said to the eager group. The location certainly was beautiful. A colorful grove of fall aspen stood before us with the grandeur of the Tetons rising behind. But the clouds were building in the west and there was still a haze in the sky above the mountains. I just didn’t see it. Uninspired, I set about working with tight shots of the trees.
As it got later, I decided to move up the road a bit and get into a position that removed my foreground, composing just the trees and mountain. Just in case we have a sunset, I thought. A few minutes later, Jack appeared to my left and a little ways behind me. Apparently he had found his spot and was getting ready for the sunset he was anticipating. I could tell he was getting more excited as it got later. I still didn’t see anything special in the light, so I asked him what he thought was going to happen.
“We have just a trace of smoke in the sky, with clouds building above, that when the sun sets behind that notch,” he pointed to the right of the mountains, “we might just get God beams blasting up from behind.” Not sharing his optimism, I adjusted my composition anyway, including the notch he pointed to. Just in case. Eventually, the sun set behind the notch, just as he predicted, but no great light. “Just wait,” he called out to the group. “And be ready!” Moments later it all came together.
Dramatic light bursts from behind the Tetons at sunset. Thick smoke and haze from nearby forest fires create God beams as the sun drops behind the horizon, Grand Teton National Park
As he captured his images, Jack whooped into the air with joy. And he let out more than one of his trademark “Woof!” shouts. As amazed as I was about Jack’s ability to predict exactly what the light was going to do, I realized that what was happening here was not pure luck or voodoo magic. Certainly this ability to anticipate the light came from his years of experience working with 4×5 cameras. Working with large format film requires a far slower pace than what is possible with the run-and-gun potential of 35mm format. One of the requirements of this slow pace is the ability to anticipate and then patiently wait for the light to happen in front of you. Since he was a successful large format photographer for so many years, logic dictates that he must also be an expert light forecaster. It is a skill I greatly admire and will strive to hone in the future.
A few days later, Jack was giving one of his amazing photographic lectures. When a student asked how he “lucked” across a particular cactus with a perfect bloom, Jack said that this image was taken on something like his tenth trip to this spot in as many days, waiting for the bloom to become optimal. And he had previously visited this site close to a hundred times. In other words, Jack knew these cacti very well. After all, the best photographers are experts on their subjects.
After the workshop, I got a chance to put this lesson to practice. My friend Jerry Dodrill (and the workshop’s co-leader), suggested that although we had been to the same stand of aspen several times already (our group had revisited the first night’s location later in the week), he felt the location still had more to offer. “I’d love to see both the mountains and those trees side lit in the early morning,” he told me. And although this would make three visits in four days to the same spot, we awoke long before dawn and made the journey out to this secluded forest service road. I had my doubts as we watched the clouds in the pre-dawn light, streaking to the east, but I trusted Jerry’s experience, and knew that this was an opportunity to try out Jack’s suggestion that we revisit locations well known to us.
As I set up my composition and waited for the light, I became aware that each time I came here, I did know the area a little better, giving me a better idea of how to approach the subject. In fact, as I lined up my shot that morning, I felt I was in the best spot of all my previous attempts at this shot. Moving left and right, forward and backward, zooming in and out gave me infinite possibilities to compose this type of shot. It helped to understand the some of the subtleties of my subject and have a clear vision in my mind of exactly what I wanted to achieve.
The sun just lights the top of the Tetons as it rises behind a grove of aspen in their fall colors, Grand Teton National Park
As the top of the mountain began its alpenglow transition to day, the scene in front of me was beautiful. But I heard Jack’s voice in my mind – “Wait for it!” All at once the morning sun brushed the aspen with luminous side light. I clicked the shutter, appreciative for these lessons from Jack.
