Monthly Archives: December 2014

Dedication

Warm early morning light casts a golden glow on the canyon floor visible through Mesa Arch in Canyonlands National Monument. (Bill Ferris)

Warm early morning light casts a golden glow on the canyon floor visible through Mesa Arch in Canyonlands National Park. (Bill Ferris)

Photography is a democratizing pursuit. How so? Well, it is often said that the camera is not the most critical element of a great photograph. The most critical element is the photographer, the person who makes the image. An eye for composition, an understanding of the role light plays in transforming a nice view into a stunning scene, and a knowledge of how to manipulate a camera’s controls and settings to achieve the envisioned photo are the most important tools a photographer brings to the craft.

The unsung and often ignored quality all great photographers bring to the table is dedication. In a nutshell, dedication can be defined as your willingness to give up something of value in order to achieve something of equal or greater value. The above photograph of Mesa Arch in Canyonlands National Park illustrates the matter.

July 27, 2014 was hot and muggy in southern Utah. I had begun the day photographing sunrise in Monument Valley Navajo Tribal Park in northern Arizona. Afterwards, I enjoyed breakfast at The View Hotel along with a number of guests just beginning their respective days. The drive north along state highways 163 and 191 delivered me to Moab, Utah at lunchtime. Moab is the gateway community to Arches and Canyonlands national parks. After lunch, the balance of my day was devoted to driving into Arches to the Delicate Arch parking area, making the 1.5-mile hike to the arch and waiting for a golden hour that never really materialized.

July happens to be the heart of the summer monsoon in the Southwest US. This seasonal weather patterned is defined by hot, muggy conditions, increasing cloudiness during the day and afternoon thunderstorms. The afternoon clouds were so thick on this day that they blocked the sweet, warm late-day light from painting Delicate Arch. The most dramatic thunderstorm activity was well off to the north. As a result, conditions just didn’t come together to make for a compelling photographic opportunity on this day.

After sunset, I made the return hike to my vehicle and, along the way, considered the available options. The issue occupying my thinking was, how should I spend the next morning? Should I find a place to photograph sunrise or just hit the road? July 28, I needed to drive 5 1/2 hours to Denver, where I would pick up my wife and son at the airport. They were flying in from New York. I was in the midst of the drive up from Flagstaff. After connecting, the three of us were going to spend a week in Estes Park exploring Rocky Mountain National Park.

There were plenty of good reasons to skip the sunrise photo expedition: the monsoon would probably play havoc with the early morning light; I had a long drive ahead and the rest would do me, well; there was almost always a crowd at Mesa Arch competing for the best locations. In the end, there was just one reason to follow through on my plan to photograph sunrise at Mesa Arch: it might be spectacular. That being reason enough, I left Arches National Park and – rather than heading back to Moab to find a hotel – turned north to make the drive to Canyonlands.

The decision grew less wise and more foolish as I drove through the darkening evening hours. Thunderstorm activity increased the further north I drove. Setting up my tent at a campground a few miles outside the entrance to Canyonlands, rain began to fall. I hurried to finish making camp and climbed into my sleeping bag just as the first deluge of the night began. I never slept more than an hour at a stretch, the occasional thunderclaps and constant patter of rain teaming to interrupt any semblance of restful sleep. When my watch alarm went off at 3:30 AM, I gave serious thought to just staying in the tent and getting more sleep.

But sunrise at Mesa Arch might – despite clouds, thunderclaps and rain – be spectacular.

So, I unzipped the sleeping bag and began to pack up. Leaving the campground, I drove through the darkness and into Canyonlands National Park. Through the windshield, it appeared the rain clouds were breaking up. Or was that just wishful thinking? Pulling into the parking lot for Mesa Arch trailhead, mine was the first vehicle on the scene. “Well,” I thought, “If it does clear, at least I’ll have my pick of spots to set up for the shot.”

Clear, it did. My dedication – however wishful or foolish in its origin – was rewarded with a fine sunrise at Mesa Arch. To be sure, this wasn’t the most dramatic of sunrises. Though warm and red, the intensity of the dawn light was muted by lingering clouds. But it was still beautiful. It was worth the worry, the sacrifice and the effort to awaken in darkness, eat a cold breakfast, remain optimistic in the face of bad weather, hike through the mist, choose my spot and to wait in hope that something magical would emerge from this monsoon morning. I could have taken the easy path. I could have driven into Moab, gotten a hotel room and slept in comfort through the night and the sunrise.

If I had, I would have missed sunrise at Mesa Arch. Now, get out there and shoot.

Bill Ferris | December 2014

Shallow

A lone juniper tree clings to life on a stony outcrop overlooking Grand Canyon. (Lipan Point, South Rim) (Bill Ferris)

A lone juniper tree clings to life on a stony outcrop overlooking Grand Canyon. This photograph was made with a Nikon D610, Tamron 24-70 mm, f/2.8 VC lens at 60 mm, f/2.8, ISO 100, 1/800-second. (Lipan Point, South Rim) (Bill Ferris)

Depth of field is as important to photography as lighting and composition. Normally when doing landscape photography, I use focal ratios in the f/9 to f/16 range. Large focal ratios deliver images with great depth of field where objects in the fore-, mid- and background are all in focus. On a recent trip to the South Rim of Grand Canyon, I decided to experiment with using shallow depth of field and the above photograph is the result.

I was at Lipan Point, one of my favorite overlooks on the South Rim. From Lipan Point, you are treated to a fine view of Desert View and Palisades of the Desert to the east, and of Wotans Throne and Angels Gate to the west. I followed a social trail from the parking lot to a stone outcrop offering an unobstructed view of the canyon. Even on days when the light isn’t good for photography, the view from this little perch is still worth the 90-minute drive. In the truest sense of the phrase, the view from this vantage point is awe-inspiring.

The sun was low in the southwest sky and painted the surrounding landscape with a slightly warm hue. A small juniper tree clinging to its perch atop the Kaibab limestone was bathed in a wonderful rim light. As I set up my tripod and Nikon D610 to frame the shot, it occurred to me that this photograph should be a portrait of the tenacious tree.

In portraiture, wide open apertures and the associated small focal ratios produce shallow depths of field. This blurs everything not in the focal plane and helps to create separation between the subject, and anything in the foreground or background.

For the above portrait, I used the Tamron 24-70 mm, f/2.8 VC lens. I chose a composition that would include the distant South Rim, inner canyon temples and buttes, a short section of the Colorado River and the creamy late-day light streaming into Grand Canyon. This context clearly identifies the location of the portrait as being Grand Canyon. blurring the background allows the tiny juniper tree to be the subject of the photograph, the star of the show so to speak.

The tenacity of life in a desert environment is on full display, here. The tree clings to a rocky outcrop, a place where you might think a plant would have no chance of survival. But life is determined and defiant in such places. Water can pool in the small rough divots atop the limestone. And where water collects, life is almost always found.

The next time you head out with your camera, why not try something you don’t normally do? If you usually shoot with long focal lengths, try using a wide angle lens. If you often shoot with wide open apertures, make it a point to use a small aperture. Wherever your comfort zone may be, step outside it and try something new.

Now, get out there and shoot.

Bill Ferris | December 2014