Tag Archives: landscape

Bucket List – Delicate Arch

(Bill Ferris)

The summer sun sets over Arches National Park in Utah. (Bill Ferris)

Which landscapes do you dream of photographing? In a private moment, where do you see yourself standing, camera by your side, and a setting sun splashing earthy hues across the scene and sky. What’s on your bucket list?

Sports photographers fantasize about shooting the Olympics, a perfect game in the World Series or a Super Bowl. For portrait photographers, working with an A-list actor, the President of the United States or royalty is a dream assignment. Would being present to document the first encounter between humanity and alien intelligence be a bucket list item for a photojournalist? Is chocolate yummy?!

One of the advantages of choosing landscapes as your photographic passion, is that you don’t need a press pass, high level security clearance or connections with the right people to gain access. Many of the most amazing destinations on Earth are right here in America and accessible with an $80 National Park annual pass. Living in northern Arizona, I am truly blessed to be near several National Parks. Grand Canyon, Arches, Canyonlands, Zion and Bryce Canyon offer spectacular photographic opportunities and all are within a day’s drive of my front door. In addition, there are numerous Native American heritage sites in the Four Corners region of Arizona, Colorado, New Mexico and Utah.

With this blog, I am launching a new series titled, “Bucket List.” The idea is simple. Each article will focus on one of the many world class landscapes in the American Southwest. To be clear, my goal is not to tell you how to go about framing and photographing these natural gems. I will share my experiences shooting these bucket list items, including what did and did not work for me. The objective is to share information and tools you can use to capture your vision of a great landscape photo.

(Bill Ferris)

Delicate Arch catches the last light of day with the La Sal Mountains dotting the far horizon. This photo was taken from the popular spot with a Nikon D90 and 18-70mm mid-range zoom. (Bill Ferris)

So, let’s get started.

Deep within Arches National Park is an iconic land form. It is a gently curing natural arch appropriately named, Delicate Arch. Even if you’ve never heard of this land form, it’s very likely you’ve seen it. Delicate Arch is featured on Utah state license plates. A simple Google search returns over 3 million hits and limitless images. Interesting thing though, when you scroll through the photos, they all look the same…like the image on the license plate.

Arches National Park is in southeastern Utah near Moab, which makes a great home base for visits to both Arches and Canyonlands national parks. Some effort is required to get to the arch. Upon entering the park, follow Arches Scenic Dr to Delicate Arch Rd. Turn onto Delicate Arch Rd and drive to the first parking lot on your left. From this lot, you’ll follow a 1 1/2 mile trail – uphill in both directions – to Delicate Arch. Budget an hour for the hike, and bring water, sunscreen and snacks.

Delicate Arch rises from the south rim of a natural sandstone bowl. The trail leads from the parking lot to the north rim of the bowl and this is the vantage point from which most photos of the arch are taken. From this spot, Delicate Arch is silhouetted against a twilight sky at sunrise and bathed in golden hour hues at sunset. With lighting so favorable at sunset, that is the time of day when the largest crowds make the long hike to see and photograph Delicate Arch. Make no mistake, though, sunrise and nightfall also offer opportunities to make spectacular images of this land form.

I was one of the horde on my first visit to the park in June 2010. My visit started poorly when I made the classic mistake of getting to the trailhead late in the day. The light was already warming when I left the parking lot. By the time I arrived – sweating and out of breath – at Delicate Arch, a crowd of well over 100 people was already gathered awaiting the perfect light. I sat down in the first open spot I found, took a long swig of water and began setting up for a shot. It was a good image – the La Sal Mountains adorned the southeastern horizon beyond the arch – but it was vanilla.

It was in this moment that I made the best decision of the day. I stopped shooting and started surveying what was happening around me. The sun was still a handful of degrees above the western horizon so, there was time to identify and get into a good position for the money shot. Photographers were spread out around the rim of the bowl with the largest grouping being where I was sitting. This location was popular for two reasons: As the first vantage point one gets to offering a clear view of the arch, this spot is highly tempting to a winded photographer. It is also the vantage point from which most photos of Delicate Arch are taken. This results in something of a vicious cycle. People stop here to catch their breath and take a photo. Since most photos of the arch are made from this location, it must offer the best view..right?

(Bill Ferris)

Delicate Arch photographed from up close using a 12-24mm zoom lens. The sky isn’t terribly interesting and the contrast of the illuminated upper arch against the shaded major portion is more distracting than appealing. However, seen up close through a wide angle lens, Delicate Arch looks more impressive and imposing. (Bill Ferris)

Scanning the crowd, I noticed a small group of photographers gathered at the base of a stone outcrop near the arch and just out of frame. In ones or twos, they would make quick runs to get closer, capture a few frames and then just as quickly retreat back to the base of the outcrop. Being naturally curious, I decided to work my way around the rim to that location. Once I arrived, it didn’t take long to recognize the advantages of this spot.

From this location, one is looking to the southwest with Delicate Arch framed by golden light along the horizon and ruddy clouds overhead. I quickly changed lenses, mounting a 12-24mm Tokina wide angle zoom on my D90. Then I attached the camera to my tripod and adjusted the leg height to allow comfortable operation from a seated position. At 7:49 PM, I made my move, scooting to a favorable location near Delicate Arch. I sat down, set up the tripod, framed a shot and took a 3-exposure series. I then backed off a few feet, re-framed and took two 3-exposure sets. Finally, I moved another few feet, re-set, re-framed and snapped off two more 3-exposure sequences.

Three minutes after leaving the base of the stone outcrop, I was back and inspecting the exposures. Undoubtedly, the people back at the popular spot were not pleased to have me in their photos. Well, that’s easily fixed in Photoshop. If they could see what I was seeing on the LCD of my camera, they would have been more upset at themselves for traveling hundreds or thousands of miles to photograph Delicate Arch and not going the extra hundred feet to make a photo that stands out from the crowd.

Delicate Arch captures a warm twilight glow at sunset in Arches National Park. (Bill Ferris)

Delicate Arch captures a warm twilight glow at sunset in Arches National Park. (Bill Ferris)

Why does it stand out? It was taken from an uncommon angle. Being close to the arch allowed me to use a wide angle lens, which separates a subject from its background and makes it appear more imposing. Shooting from the east-northeast allows one to frame the arch with brilliantly hued clouds and a golden horizon. The result is the above image, my bucket list photo of Delicate Arch.

The lesson of this story is pretty simple. Traveling across a continent or around the world to get to arrive at a bucket list destination isn’t when the work ends. Arriving at your destination is when the work begins. Don’t settle for the first vantage point offering a nice view. Orient yourself to the environment, note the location of the sun and clouds, and look for opportunities to make a compelling image from a unique perspective. Do these things and your bucket list landscape will stand apart from the crowd.

Now, get out and shoot!

Bill Ferris | April 2014

Line and Composition

(Bill Ferris)

The last light of day washes O’Neill Butte in a golden glow as seen from Yaki Point on the South Rim. (Bill Ferris)

Every picture tells a story. So, in this blog post, I would invite to think back to your grade school days. Remember the short compositions you were assigned to write? What you did on your summer vacation, what makes your mom the best, why Abraham Lincoln was a great American president. These were (and remain) common themes in the stories written neatly in number-2 pencil in old school composition booklets. These stories can teach us something about photography.

Like a well-written story, a good photograph leads you on a journey. It takes you by the hand and walks with you from beginning to end. And at the end, there is a reward. How do you, the photographer, accomplish this? By employing good composition to take advantage of the natural lines in the subjects you photograph.

In the above image, your eye is drawn first to the lower-right corner by the strong contrast in color and brightness between the green junipers and the shadowed background. From there, your gaze follows the line of the ridge across the image. Near the left side you are redirected to follow Cedar Ridge toward O’Neill Butte. There lies the payoff, a tidal wave of light washes over the ridge and butte creating a dramatic mid-summer scene. By composing the image to play off the natural line of the ridges, I’ve taken you a journey through the photograph. Your eye follows this natural line from beginning to end. And where the line ends, a reward awaits.

A stream of cars scud across the iconic Golden Gate Bridge after dark. Fog shrouds San Francisco, a city aglow with light. (Bill Ferris)

A stream of cars scud across the iconic Golden Gate Bridge after dark. Fog shrouds San Francisco, a city aglow with light. (Bill Ferris)

This photograph of the Golden Gate Bridge also uses line and light to lead you on an adventure. The journey begins in the lower-left corner where the brightly-illuminated bridge emerges from out of frame. The large north tower grabs your attention and immediately identifies the iconic subject of the image. Your eye naturally follows the bright line of vehicle headlights across the bridge to the upper-right. Again, you are rewarded for taking this journey. The south tower, the sharp contrast of the bridge’s shadow against the glassy surface of the Pacific Ocean, and the hazy profile of San Francisco present a mysterious quality of this city by the bay.

By looking for and taking advantage of natural lines in the the scenes you photograph, you can lead your audience on a journey. Like all good journeys, yours should have a beginning and an end. And by delivering a reward to your audience at the end of the journey, you will transform the journey into a story, well-told. Use composition and line to allow your photography to tell great stories.

Get out and shoot!

Bill Ferris | September 2013

Unexpected

An August sun sets over the Lower Lake Mary wetland. (Bill Ferris)

An August sun sets over the Lower Lake Mary wetland. (Bill Ferris)

I left the house with the intention of finding and photographing elk. Lower Lake Mary, with its sweet grass, is a favorite grazing location for elk in northern Arizona. I’ve driven by when literally hundreds of bulls, cows and calves were spread across the broad expanse of the dry lake bottom. It is an awesome sight and I had a hunch there would be at least a few elk to be seen on this particular evening.

My hunch was wrong. There were no elk; at least, none within view. But the late afternoon monsoon clouds were starting to catch that golden light of sunset and water fowl were playing in a marshy area near the road. So, I pulled over, grabbed my gear and started to work the field. I circled the marsh in a counter-clockwise direction looking for an interesting subject to photograph. It wasn’t until I had almost completed the circle that I found the shot I was looking for; the image atop this post.

I worked this location a bit before moving on. There was a small rise to the east of me and it looked as though the top might offer a vantage point from which to compose a nice landscape. But en route to that destination, I found myself walking through a small sea of long grass. The tassels were similar to wheat in texture and their green, silvery hue captured the warm light in wonderful ways. It was completely unexpected.

Tall, tasseled grass waves in a light breeze at sunset on a summer day at Lower Lake Mary near Flagstaff, Arizona. (Bill Ferris)

Tall, tasseled grass waves in a light breeze at sunset on a summer day at Lower Lake Mary near Flagstaff, Arizona. (Bill Ferris)

Unexpected, however, is where a photographer often finds hidden treasure. These are the moments when you need to trust that internal voice whispering, “Ooh, that’s cool.” When a scene captures your eye and you stop, resist the temptation to give the scene a passing look before moving on. Pause a while. Study the scene. Give it consideration and ask yourself if this photograph could be a keeper.

After all, you’re a photographer – a visual artist – and your eye, your sense of composition, is your strongest asset. If you think it looks cool, trust that others will do the same. Or better yet, don’t care what anybody else will think. Take the photo because it pleases you to do so.

I left Lower Lake Mary with zero photographs of elk on that late summer evening. I captured several nice landscapes. The setting sun painting dramatic clouds with yellows and golds over lush green grass and water always makes for a lovely image. But the image I’m most pleased with from that shoot is the image of the long grass. It’s a wonderful combination of textures, tones and hues. The subtle abstract quality lends itself to a diverse set of interpretations. Everyone sees something different in this image and that is something that pleases me.

So, don’t let the absence of a specific plan or subject stop you from doing photography. Trust that, when you’re out and about with your kit, you’ll find an image worth taking. You’ll recognize opportunity when it knocks.

Now, get out and shoot.

Bill Ferris | September 2013

 

Chasing the Light

As sunset's golden light washes over Grand Canyon, a summer monsoon rumbles across the great chasm as seen from Cape Royal on the North Rim. (Bill Ferris)

As sunset’s golden light washes over Grand Canyon, a summer monsoon rumbles across the great chasm as seen from Cape Royal on the North Rim. (Bill Ferris)

A photograph is nothing without light. It is light that paints a landscape, creating the scene we hope to capture with the click of the shutter. And this is just the beginning. Light can do so much more.

Consider the intangible qualities of a photograph, those qualities which cannot be fully captured within the quantifiable aspects of an image. Consider mood, for example. What gives a photograph a joyous, somber, brooding, angry, celebratory or tense quality? In many instances, it is light which imbues a scene with its mood.

In the above image, the warm, golden light of sunset paints the horizon, storm clouds and stone to convey a wonderfully diverse – almost contradictory – collection of moods. On one hand, a dramatic, even subtly angry mood is present. But the gentle curve of the landscape softens the mood a bit, bringing out a feeling that is almost celebratory. This contrast gives the image a compelling quality that would not be present, if not for the quality of the light painting this landscape.

An early September sunset paints the inner Grand Canyon as seen from Lipan Point on the South Rim. (Bill Ferris)

An early September sunset paints the inner Grand Canyon as seen from Lipan Point on the South Rim. (Bill Ferris)

By comparison, this image carries a more subtle and inviting mood. A late-day glow catches just the tops of shrub and stone in the foreground, the ridges in the middle ground and the buttes in the distance. The remainder of the scene is subtly illuminated by a cooler, bluer twilight. Combined the scene has both a calm (cool, blue) and inviting (warm, red) quality that is slightly soothing.

Light is your most valuable, most important tool as a photographer. Whether you prefer working with the ambient, natural light of a scene or using strobes and other artificial light sources, understanding how light can be used to build an image and create a mood will allow you to take more dynamic, more compelling photographs.

So, get out there and shoot!

Bill Ferris | September 2013

Black & White

This dramatic black & white image presents a classical view of Yosemite National Park's Half Dome. (Bill Ferris)

This dramatic black & white image presents a classical view of Yosemite National Park’s Half Dome. (Bill Ferris)

The above HDR image of Yosemite National Park’s iconic Half Dome was originally shot in color but I prefer this black and white treatment. Black and white is sometimes better at conveying the timeless beauty of a landscape. This is one of those times.

Just about anyone who appreciates and enjoys landscape photography is familiar with Ansel Adams. Born in 1902, Adams’s creative eye and mastery of photographic technique allowed him to produce timeless images of the American west. Ansel Adams defined American landscape photography in the 20th Century. Many of his greatest works are black and white compositions of dramatic vistas. Adams’s, “Moon over Half Dome,” is an iconic American image.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not comparing myself to Ansel Adams. However, like many landscape photographers, I am inspired by his work. My black and white Half Dome image is my own small tribute to a great photographer who showed that a well-composed image captured in the right light has the power to touch a person’s soul. Adams made that magical one-on-one connection countless times during his career. Every day, it is my goal to do the same. Produce an image that connects at some level with another person.

Black and white photography as an homage to the pantheon of early great photographers is one reason the genre has a special ability to convey something timeless about a subject. Another reason, is the symbolic nature of this technique.

(Bill Ferris)

Years of neglect have stripped this ranch building to nothing but the frame. But that framework remains solid and strong, still resilient years after abandonment. (Bill Ferris)

Symbolism is a powerful thing. At least, it can be. This photo of an old ranch building is symbolic of issues related to the passage of time.

The building has been abandoned for years. The floor is pealing and disintegrated. Wall slats lie scattered about. It may have been well-used and central to ranching operations in years past. But today, this building stands forgotten and in disuse. In contrast–or possibly defiance–to its current state, the frame of the building appears to stand straight and strong. You almost get the impression the building is patiently waiting for a time when people will find value in and use of it, again.

This is representative of exactly what we feel as we age. We fear being abandoned, forgotten and lost in the shadows of history. We fear having a sound mind and stout heart, but being trapped in an aging shell that prevents us from being actively engaged with the world.

The abandoned building reflects reflects these themes. The structure was built for a purpose and, presumably, served that purpose, well, for some period of time. Like mortal man, no building lasts forever. Time and the forces of nature work on us. Just as a man can return to the earth from which he first arose, so too can a building disintegrate into nothing. However, to be abandoned is arguably worse than to be destroyed. If destroyed, there is at least a rationale for disuse. That which no longer exists cannot be used. However, to be capable of serving a useful purpose but to be abandoned, that is a terrible thing. It is the very definition of loneliness.

Black and white strips an image down to its bare essentials. Gone, are the aesthetic elements of color. Gone, is the photograph’s function as an objective document of the subject. All that remains are elemental qualities: brightness, contrast, tone, texture and composition. Black and white is elemental. It is symbolic…at least, it has that potential.

Get out and shoot.

Bill Ferris | August 2013

 

A, Is for Aperture Priority

I don’t recall exactly how long it took before I was able to look at the letters on the menu dial of my camera and see anything other than alphabet soup. It certainly wasn’t overnight after first getting the camera, weeks at a minimum but probably closer to months.

In part this was due to the ability of the modern DSLR camera to auto select settings that produce good photos. Another factor was the menu of scene modes on my Nikon D70. When taking pictures of people, I used the Portrait setting. I also used the Landscape, Sports and Night settings. The names said everything I needed to know about their function and made it easy to explore settings other than Auto. Yes, I was getting all radical with my camera and trying different menu dial positions just weeks after getting it.

But the real experimentation started when I took the leap of faith required to dive into the alphabet soup settings on the menu dial: A, M, P and S. In addition to being an anagram for, spam, those four letters tease and temp a new photographer with hints of the unknown and mysterious. What happens when you choose, A? Will the camera even function?

The Command Dial on most DSLR cameras allows you to choose between a variety of scene and other settings, including Aperture Priority (A)

The Command Dial on most DSLR cameras allows you to choose between a variety of scene and other settings, including Aperture Priority (A) (Graphic used courtesy Creative Commons)

A, is for Aperture Priority, a setting where you manually select the aperture and the camera fill in the other settings. An aperture is an opening that allows light to pass through the lens and fall on your camera’s sensor. If you’re framing a shot at high noon on a sunny day, there’s a lot of light hitting your subject. This abundance of ambient light means your camera’s aperture can be small and still allow enough light to hit the sensor to capture a beautiful image with a short exposure. This brings us to the concept of f-stop or f/ratio. These terms mean the same thing, the ratio of the focal length of your camera lens to the diameter of the lens opening (aperture) allowing light to fall on the camera sensor.

Suppose your shooting with the kit zoom lens that came with your camera and the focal length (zoom) is set to 50 mm (millimeters). Put the camera in auto and take a picture of something. Then, play the photo and look at the information about that exposure. In particular look for the f-number. The number next the f tells you the ratio of the aperture to lens focal length. A picture taken with a 50 mm lens at f/10 had a 5 mm (1/5-inch) aperture. A picture taken with a 50 mm lens at f/4 had a 12.5 mm (1/2-inch) aperture or opening.

So, the smaller the focal ratio or f-number, the larger the aperture. In short, when you shoot with a small f-number, you’re letting more light into the camera to fall on the sensor. Or at least, your camera is trying to let in more light. When we started this discussion, we began by imagining a scenario of taking a picture at high noon on a sunny day. Let’s change the time from high noon to the golden hour, that first hour after sunrise or last hour before sunset when natural light is soft, warm and dramatic. The light quality is better but there’s not as much of it. So, in order for your camera to allow the same quantity of light on its sensor as a shot taken at noon, the aperture needs to be larger.

The begs the question, so what? Why should you care that the aperture needs to be bigger during the golden hour than at high noon? Well, aperture determines the depth of field in a photo. Depth of field is the range of distance within which objects or people will be in focus in a photograph. When shooting portraits, it’s often more pleasing to have a shallow depth of field. In other words, the person who’s the subject of the photo is in focus but anything in the foreground or background will be out of focus. This quality of an out of focus foreground or background is called, bokeh. Bokeh is a Japanese term describing the portion of a photograph that is obviously out of focus. When shooting a portrait, obvious bokeh in the background is typically very pleasing to the eye. The way to create bokeh in your shot is to shoot using a small focal ratio or f-number, the smaller the better.

Northern Arizona's summer monsoon calls forth brilliant yellow wildflowers near Flagstaff, Arizona. (Bill Ferris)

Northern Arizona’s summer monsoon calls forth brilliant yellow wildflowers near Flagstaff, Arizona. (Bill Ferris)

Above, is an example of bokeh. The subject is in focus in the foreground and the background is obviously out of focus. This transforms the background flowers into a pleasingly abstract tapestry of hues and textures complimenting the subject of the photo.

Suppose you’re shooting a landscape at sunset. A wonderful, warm light is painting the temples and buttes of Grand Canyon. For this shot, you’ll probably want everything in your frame to be in focus. You’re not trying to capture just one temple or butte. Everything in your frame needs to be in focus. In this scenario, a shallow depth of field will put much of the frame out of focus. To put everything from the most distant butte to the blooming foreground wildflower in focus, you need to shoot using a large focal ratio. Typically, I shoot at f/9 when doing landscape photography.

(Bill Ferris)

The last light of day paints Desert View Watchtower on the South Rim of Grand Canyon a deep rusty red. Desert View overlooks the Palisades of the Desert and the Colorado River in eastern Grand Canyon National Park. (Bill Ferris)

This photo of Desert View Watchtower on the South Rim of Grand Canyon was taken at sunset. My Nikon D90 was mounted on a tripod. The camera was in aperture priority at f/9, ISO 500, a lens focal length of 19 mm and an exposure of 1/30-second.

This brings us to the final question of this blog entry. What impact, other than depth of field, will shooting at f/9 have on your photo? As we’ve discussed, the larger the f-number the smaller the aperture or lens opening. If shooting at sunset to capture a landscape illuminated by that gorgeous, soft light, you can compensate for the small aperture by boosting the ISO setting. The same scene that can be captured with an ISO of 200 at high noon, may require an ISO setting of 800 during that dusky time around sunset.

But there is a price to pay for taking this approach. Boosting the ISO to make your camera more sensitive to light adds digital noise to your photo. With higher end digital cameras, images shot at ISO 800 often look very good. But if you’re shooting with an entry-level camera or an older DSLR, an image shot at ISO 800 will often looking grainy and rough. Rest assured, however, there is another solution.

Use a tripod. For landscape photography or any photography where you want to capture sharp, detailed images with good depth-of-field, a tripod is essential gear. Mounting your camera on a tripod allows you to precisely frame the shot. It also allows you to shoot at low ISO’s of 400 or less during the golden hour and still capture great detail. The scene that was perfectly captured with a 1/500-second expose in bright sunlight may require a 1/10-second exposure at a time of day when the quality of the light is warmer, softer and more dramatic.

Now, 1/10-second may not seem slow but trust me, it is slow in photography. As a general rule when shooting handheld, you want exposure times to be no slower than the reciprocal of the lens focal length. OK, in English. Let’s say you’re shooting with a 50 mm lens. If you’re holding the camera in hand for the shot, the slowest shutter speed you’ll want to use is 1/50-second. Faster would be better. Any slower speed will allow the camera to capture the vibration or unsteadiness of your handhold. That vibration will soften details and produce an image that looks out of focus. If the camera is mounted on a tripod, that rock solid platform will allow you to take longer exposures producing crisp, focused photographs.

OK, I’ve rambled long enough. The next time you’re out with your camera, experiment with using the A or aperture priority setting. Shoot the same subject using different apertures. Compare the ISO settings and exposure times for the resulting photos. Most important, compare how the photos look. Which one looks best to you? Write down or make a mental note of those settings and spend the rest of the day shooting with them. You’ll learn a little more about your camera and you’ll get some great shots.

Get out and shoot!

Bill Ferris | August 2013

Psychedelic

Bryce Point in Bryce Canyon National Park basks in the warm glow of sunrise on a mid-summer morning. It is amazing to me that places such as this, with its deeply rich natural hues, can be found on this earth. (Bill Ferris)

Bryce Point in Bryce Canyon National Park basks in the warm glow of sunrise on a mid-summer morning. It is amazing to me that places such as this, with its deeply rich natural hues, can be found on this earth. (Bill Ferris)

Too loud. Garish. Unnatural.

These are words some critics use in lamenting the presentation of bright, bold colors in high dynamic range (HDR) photography. Personally, I like richly saturated hues in my photos. That said, I acknowledge and respect your right to enjoy and celebrate the photographic styles that touch you. After all, photography is deeply personal. There should be room for a wide variety of perspectives and a multitude of forms of expression within the medium.

If asked to describe my HDR photographic style, I suppose the phrase I would choose is, deeply natural. It’s a simple phrase, just two words, but conveys far more about my taste in photography than meets the eye. I’ll begin with the second word, natural. I like my photos to have a natural appearance to them. A natural-looking image is inviting. It’s a whisper saying, step a little closer and have a good look. Natural is something you want to touch, to linger over and sit with. Natural welcomes a long visit.

To preserve that natural quality, I tend to back off on the depth of the processing…just a touch. I mean, let’s not kid around, my HDR is clearly HDR. It’s got that look but it also retains enough of the subject’s inherent beauty to have a natural look. It’s not landscape porn. It’s the landscape next door.

Which brings us back to the first word, deeply. As mentioned at the outset, I like deep rich hues in my photos. These aren’t colors as they appear to my eye. Rather, they’re the colors seen by my soul. When a scene touches and inspires me to pull out the camera and tripod, it comes alive in a way that goes well beyond what can be seen with the eye. It reaches deep inside. The details get a little sharper, the sky a little bluer, the colors brighter and richer.

Bryce Point at sunrise in Bryce Canyon National Park
Bryce Point in Bryce Canyon National Park basks in the warm glow of sunrise on a mid-summer morning.

Bryce Canyon National Park is truly an American gem. What makes this place so magical are the amazing colors in the stone. They are both totally real and completely unnatural at the same time. For an HDR photographer, the unique quality of the color makes Bryce Canyon heaven on earth.

Occasionally, nature does the work for me. The gorgeous, slightly more intense than life quality comes baked into the scene. That above photograph is a perfect example. Those electric day glow colors are totally natural. Catching the early morning light, this is how Bryce Canyon looks. It’s more than the color of reflected light. It is as though the stone hoodoos and rock layers are powered by an inner rainbow glow.

Is it loud? Garish? Unnatural? Maybe so. But that is Bryce Canyon, one of the most unnatural looking wonders on the planet. Bryce Canyon is a place that has to be seen to be believed. It’s like candy to an HDR baby.

So, where is your naturally amazing wonder? Where do you go to find inspiration? Keep that thought in mind. Grab the car keys, and get out and shoot!

Bill Ferris | July 2013