Tag Archives: California
It’s that time of year again to reflect on the year that was as a photographer: the lucky breaks, the missed opportunities, the long stretches of pulverizing boredom, the fleeting moments of ephemeral magic. That’s 2015, which is a pretty standard example of most years as a wildlife, travel, and nature photographer.
Looking over the choices of my personal favorites, I was somewhat surprised to see no verticals. I hope that’s not a trend and maybe it’s something to conciously consider as the calendar turns over to 2016. Aside from that, there are some very pleasant memories represented in these images. Good times. Good year. Enjoy.
14 degrees Fahrenheit on a cold, still February night in the Eastern Sierra mountain range of California. The 4.5-hour exposure was almost worth being sick the following 3 days. Canon EOS 5D Mark III, Canon EF16-35 f/2.8L II USM @ 28mm, about 4 1/2 hours (15,861 seconds) @ f/3.2, ISO 100. © Richard Bernabe/Earth and Light
The group of giraffes approached the water hole with great deliberation and caution – as they usually do – but this time with perfect sunset light reflected in the water. The symmetry, balance, and separation between each of the animals is what elevated this frame over the others, especially the giraffe on the right with its head and neck arched in the opposite direction from the group. I then flipped the image upside-down to give viewer a bit of a visual puzzle to work out. Canon EOS 7D Mark II, Canon EF24-70mm f/4L IS USM @ 64mm, 1/800 second @ f/4, ISO 2000. © Richard Bernabe/Earth and Light
I knew that one of my polar bear images would make the favorites list for 2015, I just didn’t know which it would be. I suppose I eventually picked this one over the others because of the cub’s quizzical head posture and expression as our boat slowly backed away from the shoreline. Canon EOS 5D Mark III, Canon EF200-400mm f/4L IS USM @ 371mm, 1/800 second @ f/4, ISO 1000. © Richard Bernabe/Earth and Light
Piazza San Marco in Venice is usually a raucous, crowded, noisy place. In the morning’s pre-dawn stillness, the only sound to be heard was the gentle rocking of the idle gondolas to the waves, which is captured as soft blurs in the long exposure. Canon EOS 5D Mark III, Canon EF EF16-35 f/4L USM @ 30mm, 13 seconds @ f/14, ISO 100. © Richard Bernabe/Earth and Light
This image is all about fortuitous timing and LIGHT! Canon EOS 7D Mark II, Canon EF200-400mm f/4L IS USM w/1.4x extender @ 448mm, 1/160 second @ f/6.3, ISO 500. © Richard Bernabe/Earth and Light
Iceland’s Reynisdranger basalt sea stacks are formidable and impressive from almost any angle you view them, but from the side – the angle you see here – they appear other-worldly if not dangerous. Still, without the rim light on the foreground rocks, I would have never even bothered to lift the camera to the tripod. This is one of those rare images where I knew it would be a black and white interpretation at the time I captured it. Canon EOS 5D Mark III, Canon EF24-70mm f/4L IS USM @ 55mm, 1/80 second @ f/16, ISO 500. © Richard Bernabe/Earth and Light
The warm light on the dead juniper tree was so visually striking, especially against the shadow which was cast along the wall of Skyline Arch. I simply used the shadow’s edge as a frame to the tree while leaving out any of the sky, which is just out of the image frame along the top. Canon EOS 5D Mark III, Canon EF24-70mm f/4L IS USM @ 70mm, 1/80 second @ f/11, ISO 500. © Richard Bernabe/Earth and Light
The title I gave this image, Generations, refers to the relative size and position of each elephant in the frame. Of course these elephants may not represent distinct “generations” but it’s a nice thought anyway. The light comes from a soft glow on the western horizon just after sunset. Canon 5D Mark III, Canon EF200-400mm f/4L IS USM @ 316mm, 1/500 second @ f/4, ISO 800. © Richard Bernabe/Earth and Light
While the tree was shaded by the mountain behind me, the river was getting some beautiful reflections from the illuminated forest on the other bank, giving the background a soft, lemony color wash. Canon EOS 5D Mark III, Canon EF70-200mm f/4L USM @ 126mm, 2 seconds @ f/20, ISO 100. © Richard Bernabe/Earth and Light
A stark and surreal landscape, Deadvlei never fails to inspire with an amazing array of compositional options. The best time is just after the pan falls to shadow and the surrounding dunes are lit from the low-angled sun. Canon EOS 5D Mark III, Canon EF70-200mm f/4L USM @ 168mm, 1/8 second @ f/18, ISO 250. © Richard Bernabe/Earth and Light
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It’s that time of year, once again, when we look back at the year that was and weigh our accomplishments. Well, you always hope that there are accomplishments worthy of looking back on. If nothing else, there’s always weighing the regrets.
Anyway, last year I posted my favorite images from 2011 – Eleven for ’11. Naturally, this year it’s 12 for ’12. They are all favorites of mine for a reason, although the reasons may not be so obvious to everyone else. Nonetheless, I’ll try to give some insight. So here they are listed in chronological order, starting this past January.
Just another brutal day in paradise, I posted earlier in the year. I think what I liked best about this image is that it was completely secluded. I didn’t have to clone out a single human.
One of my favorite things about this image is that it was taken from a very popular vantage point in Yosemite National Park. Still I was able to come away with something unique and original, thanks to the thickening fog in the valley.
The location, the light, and the effort to get there (I led three of my clients who opted for the backcountry extension to the Patagonia workshop up this steep, ice-covered trail to be here by sunrise) were all factors in this image making the cut.
The low-angled light sweeping over the textured sandstone, the dynamic leading lines, the cloud movement during this 30-second exposure make this a clear favorite of mine. I don’t practice many black and white conversions but I was surprised to find two in my favorites for 2012.
I love night photography and Arches National Park is one of my favorite places to “do it in the dark.” Ok, shameless plug here: Night photography, Arches National Park, November 6-9, 2013. Thanks for listening.
Amazing sunset. Paris, France. What else is there to say?
Persistance. I waited four nights in order to get light that I was looking for at this location. I was prepared for a 5th, if necessary.
The Decisive Moment, as Henri Cartier-Bresson might describe this image. This is only one image frame in an entire sequence I posted back in September: Life and Death in Katmai.
If I had a “home” national park, the Smokies would be it. This image captures the essence of the Great Smoky Mountains National Park perhaps better than any other I have taken in the past dozen years or so.
Rain, rain, and more rain with some impenetrable fog and gloomy skies – but for a brief 40-seconds of optimism. And I was ready.
This is as much sun and light as you will get in northern Iceland in December. But oh what lovely light it is…
I had never seen the northern lights before, despite two previous summer trips to Iceland and two summer trips to Alaska. The aurora is what brought me to Iceland in the depths of winter and I was not disappointed.
Thanks for sharing 2012 with me.
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This is the age of HDR, High Dynamic Range photography. Whether it’s specialized, automated HDR software or various exposure blending techniques in Photoshop, the current photographic trend is to extract every bit of detail from every last pixel from every scene. And although this can lead to some pretty alarming results, such as here and here and here, it’s not necessarily always a bad thing. I admit to rarely using automated HDR software, particularly with landscape and nature images, but I do use Photoshop for exposure blending when the narrow dynamic range of the camera’s sensor is inadequate for the scene I’m trying to capture.
Still, many new photographers don’t realize – or haven’t been told – that black is an acceptable color for digital photography. There’s no need to always pull details from shadows especially when those details don’t add anything to the message of the image. In many cases, such as the image of Lake Tahoe used in this post, those very details can detract from its effectiveness.
When I look at this image, I can’t help but reminisce on my days of Fuji Velvia 50 film transparencies – for better or worse. If I didn’t know any better, in fact, I would assume it was a scan from one of those old slides. It was Velvia’s deep, rich blacks that were missing from many of my first digital captures and crude processing efforts back in the day. Simply increasing the black threshold with a quick Levels adjustment was often the only thing required in transforming flat and muddy to sharp and vibrant.
The true black in this image also draws greater attention to the simple, geometric shape of the lake and its relationship to the shoreline. Allowing details to creep into the shadows would only take away from that compositional concept. Do we really need to see all the details in the foreground trees? Of course not, which is why I allowed those details to fade to black.
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Back in February, I traveled out to California to do some winter photography, first in Yosemite National Park with my friend Lance Warley (his impressive photography can be seen here on his website) then solo to Death Valley National Park and the Alabama Hills in the Eastern Sierras.
The prospect for any winter photography in Yosemite was looking rather grim. Like much of the United States in 2012, winter was nearly nonexistent in Yosemite and there had hardly been any snow up to that point. But we were lucky. On the day we arrived, six inches of new snow had fallen and they were calling for more later that week.
We were also completely unaware that we had arrived during the famous Horsetail Falls “firefall” event, the two-week span when the sun backlights the falls at sunset at just the right angle. I guess you could say we were lucky in that regard, except that there was no waterfall to photograph. No snowpack meant no snowmelt which meant no Horsetail Falls. But that didn’t stop the hundreds of photographers, who arrived for the express purpose of photographing the event, from lining up at sunset to photograph the non-waterfall, as if they could collectively will it to materialize before their eyes. Curious indeed: dozens of photographers lined up at sunset to shoot a wet rock. (I must add, however, that after we left, the new snow did begin to melt and there was a small amount of water falling from the back side of El Capitan, where Horsetail Falls should be.) For more information on Horsetail Falls, including how and when to photograph it, see Michael Frye’s excellent blog post on the subject.
So, here are just a few of the images from the trip. Many others, especially those from Death Valley, still need to be processed but I’ve been way too busy to complete. I’ll post them soon, I hope.
For those interested in visiting and photographing Yosemite National Park, I will be leading an instructional tour in September, in conjunction with the PSA International Conference in San Francisco where I will be a featured speaker. Click here for more information on this event.
Many people have asked me about how to make star trail images in general (it’s ridiculously easy) and how exactly “Eye of Cyclops” was created in particular. I promised I would do so, so here is that promise kept.
I am going to keep this as short and sweet as possible, straightforward, and direct. I’m not going to dumb it down too much but at the same time, I’ll keep it from becoming too esoteric as well. Some of you will think it’s far too technical and some will think that I didn’t give enough information. That’s a guarantee. I’m just trying to strike a balance here.
First, the location is in the Alabama Hills of California at the foot of the Sierra Nevada Mountains and in the shadow of the highest peak in the continental United States, Mount Whitney. The name of this particular arch is not important, yet it should be obvious to those who know the area. There was lots of pre-planning involved in order for this to work, including a visit during daylight to acquaint myself with the location and it’s surroundings as well as devising my strategy and imagining how the final image would look later. I got a bead on the north star, Polaris, using the iPhone application, Star Chart. I wanted the concentric star circles to revolve around a point that was located inside one of the arch windows. The two arches reveal themselves to the sky when oriented toward the north, so this was easy enough. I chose the desired height of the tripod, the lens (16 mm), composition, etc.
My strategy then was as follows: when it became dark enough, I would first make one exposure while “light painting” the inside of the arch. I could do this with a 30-second exposure and a high enough ISO to adequately record light in all areas of exposed rock, even the deeper crevices. My settings for this exposure were: 30 seconds, f4, ISO 640, Manual Exposure mode. To light paint, I used my headlamp wrapped in a red bandanna. The reasons for the bandana were twofold. First, I wanted to soften the light to avoid ghastly hotspots on the rock. Second, I wanted a reddish tone to the interior of the arch and the red bandana did the trick quite nicely. I could precisely adjust the color and balance the light and dark areas later in Photoshop, but I still wanted it as close as possible. Manual focus is also important so that the camera doesn’t start “hunting” for a focus point in the faint light. Focusing on the lip of the arch at f4 gave me all the depth of field I needed. The result of this first exposure can be seen below.
Then without moving or refocusing the camera, I changed the ISO from 640 to 100 and the exposure mode to “Bulb.” Ideally, I would have preferred to focus at infinity for this second exposure, but it would have created some problems later when I combined the two exposures and also I knew from experience that it wouldn’t have affected the look of the star trails too much anyway. Every other camera setting remained the same. With the Bulb setting, the shutter would remain open as long as the shutter release is being depressed, so a cable release with a locking mechanism is needed.
I then waited for the waxing crescent moon to dip over the horizon and for darkness to fall completely for the maximum number of stars to be revealed. When the time was right, I locked the shutter and left it exposed for just over an hour. The rotation of the Earth did all the work for me. I simply sat on a nearby rock, ate a sandwich and listened to some music. Beach Boys’ “Pet Sounds” if I recall. Settings: 64 minutes, f4, ISO 100, Bulb. The result you can see below.
The result you see above has some post editing work done, mostly subjective stuff such as adjusting the white balance to make the sky a dark blue tone, increasing contrast to make the star trails more noticeable, and removing most of the color from the stars as well. As I said, these are all my personal preferences and since it’s my little slice of fantasy, I can make it whatever the hell I want it to be. So there.
Next, I blended the two exposures in Photoshop. Since there was such a clear difference in dominant color tones from one exposure to the next – blue and red – I used the red channel as a mask for the first exposure and it nearly blended itself for me. After a little touching up on the mask, a slight crop, and some noise reduction applied to the sky, the resulting image you can see below.
I hope you found this hastily-written post to be of some help to you. It was a very fun, rewarding image to make and I hope you like it.
If this sort of photography appeals to you, we will be doing much more of this during my Arches and Canyonlands Photo Workshop in Moab, Utah this May. Be sure to check it out.