A family of california ground squirrels lines up along a curb. Canon 800mm f/5.6L IS lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 1000. Evaluative metering +1/3 stop: 1/250 sec. at f/22
Byxbee Park (one of the local bird spots I visit occasionally) has seen a recent explosion in the california ground squirrel population. While I have always seen plenty of these squirrels running across the trails, or peeking their heads out of the tops of bushes, it has never been in these numbers. When this park was created from an old landfill conversion, small mounds were built to create habitat for these squirrels. I’m not sure what has caused the increase in population, but they have been thriving this fall and winter.
A healthy ground squirrel population is a sign of good things to come for birders (and bird photographers!) First and foremost, there have been an abundance of raptors, more than happy to contribute their part to squirrel population control. This park has always been a good place to see birds of prey in flight, but a high prey count can only help. Secondly, an increase in ground squirrels means an increase in burrows. The burrowing owl will take residence in existing homes (including those of the ground squirrel). While I have not seen any burrowing owls in this area yet, I am hopeful that one or two families might take up residence here. The main deterrent to burrowing owls here is that this park is also a popular dog walking area. Too often I see dog owners ignore all of the signs, and let their dogs roam off-lease, potentially disturbing sensitive habitat. For the burrowing owl, all we can do is wait and see.
Okay, so I like to cheat every once in a while. There are “purists” out there who would shake their head with shame at the image above, and I have to admit, I used to side with them more often then not. But I couldn’t help myself the other day playing around with some of my photos to see how I could create other successful photos just by cropping heavily.
The photo above is a head and shoulder crop of the photo below. My distance to this red-tailed hawk was limited by the height of the pole on which he was perched. I was already in pretty close, with an 800mm lens on a 1.6x crop sensor, giving me a 35mm equivalent focal length of 1280mm. If I’d walked any closer to pole, the angle of inclination would have been too severe, which was not the kind of shot I was going after. The photo was okay, but that pole really bothered me. I much prefer natural scenes without visible “hand-of-man” elements.
A red-tailed hawk perches on a tall pole, looking for prey
So, once I got the photo onto my computer, I decided to start playing with the crop, if only to see what my photo might have looked like if I’d had more lens reach. I was fully expecting a pixelated mess, but to my astonishment, the cropped image wasn’t that bad. I won’t be making a 30×40 inch print of it any time soon, but for small prints and web use, it works. Here, the win definitely goes to the massive 18 megapixel sensor and the amazing amount of detail it can capture. Of course, some credit should go to me for the technique required for the razor sharpness of the image!
There are many new opportunities for photographers to express their creativity as a direct result of improvements in technology. Five years ago, I could not have done what I did above. The image quality of the cropped photo would have been too poor to stand up on its own. It is truly amazing how far the world of digital photography has advanced in recent years. Who knows what the next ten years will bring?
Recently several people have asked me what alpenglow is, and what causes it. This term was probably popularized among photographers by Galen Rowell, who wrote about it and demonstrated it wonderfully through many of his fantastic landscapes. The term refers to the reddish pre-dawn and post-sunset lighting effects sometimes seen on mountain peaks. There is some debate as to whether it also refers to the light cast directly by the sun at the moment of sunrise or sunset, or if it only refers to an indirect red cast on the mountain top while the mountain is still in the earth’s shadow. Either way, it is a beautiful sight to behold.
Mt. Whitney glows red in pre-dawn light, Alabama Hills, CA
I got a chance to see intense alpenglow recently when I visited the Alabama Hills on the eastern side of the Sierra. In the photo above, you can see the intense red of alpenglow touching the peak of Mt. Whitney, the tallest mountain in the continental US.
Why is alpenglow red? The longest and slowest moving light waves in the visible spectrum are red. As light travels through our atmosphere, the faster wave lengths (blue) are absorbed – only the red penetrates. Alpenglow is an extreme version of this light absorption because of the increased amount of atmosphere light has to travel through at this time of day. Here we have the sun rising on one horizon (east), striking an object on the opposite horizon (west). The red wave length is the only end of the spectrum that makes it through all that atmosphere. The fact that there are no features obstructing the sun as it rises across the Nevada desert, combined with the fact that the peaks of the eastern Sierra rise over 10,000 feet straight up, make the Alabama Hills one of the best places on earth to view alpenglow.
Light from the rising sun creeps down the face of Mt. Whitney at dawn, Alabama Hills, CA
Here we have another shot of Whitney taken less than four minutes after the first photo. Here the darker purple of the earth shadow moved down the face, and the red color was more orange as the sun rose above the eastern horizon. Even though it was only four minutes later, there was less atmosphere for the sun light to traverse, shifting the color away from red and toward the shorter wavelengths.
A forest of pine covers the floor of Yosemite Valley, Yosemite National Park
It all started out well enough. My friend Steve and I headed out of town last Thursday night for what looked like a wonderfully scenic three-day backpacking trip. We were going to start in Sierra National Forest, loop into southern Yosemite, and then into Ansel Adams Wilderness. The drive went well, the 30 miles of dirt road were easier than we were expecting, and we found a nice spot to disperse camp at the trail head.
Then, sitting around the campfire before bed, my stomach started feeling pretty bad. I thought maybe it was the altitude, as we were camped above 8000 feet. I went to bed expecting to acclimatize over night and feel better in the morning. Wrong – I felt worse. I’ll spare you the details, but it soon became apparent that I couldn’t hold anything down, including water. My head was pounding with dehydration. Definitely no way to start a rigorous 15+ mile day!
From Glacier Point, the visitor is granted views of Yosemite Valley, Half Dome, and the Yosemite high country.
After much deliberation, we decided to skip the trip and pack it in. Thankfully, Steve is one of those easy-going guys who can be very flexible when plans need to change. We were both disappointed, but agreed to tackle the trip another time. Since we were close to Yosemite, we decided to pop into the park for some quick vistas before heading back to the Bay Area.
Trees grow out of rounded granite overlooking Nevada Falls from Glacier Point, Yosemite National Park
So, okay, the photographs I took weren’t “lousy”, but not really what I was expecting from a trip into the backcountry. I much prefer photographing areas with few or no people – preferably that are hard to get to. As it was, we were stuck with what is the hustle and bustle of a Yosemite vista point in mid-summer. In general, I tend to stay away from these spots for two reasons. First, they are frequently crowded to the point that it breaks my ability to connect with the nature that surrounds me. Getting out into the Sierra only to see people pushing and shoving to get a view (Glacier Point, anyone?) is not my idea of solitude! Second, from a photographic standpoint, I don’t like taking photos that have literally been taken millions of times before.
Although this landscape has been captured by cameras millions of times, it is still beautiful to behold
Needless to say, I was in a bad mood heading back last Friday. However, after getting home and processing the photos I took, I was reminded why all those people were there. Everyone can get to these spots, and they are among the most beautiful in the world. I remember the first time I saw Yosemite and how awe-struck I was. I would never want to deny anyone else that same experience, no matter how grumpy I get from a missed backpacking trip. After all, there is a reason they call these scenic vista points.
