Fish, Friends, and Photography

SunsetSomeone told me years ago, “If you want to catch a lot of fish, you have to go fishing a lot.”  That’s true for the most part, unless you have friends that call to tell you when the fish are biting.  It’s also true for landscape photography.  It’s a good thing I have a few good friends.

The great landscape photographer, Galen Rowell, said, “There are only a certain number of sunrises and sunsets in a person’s life.  A good landscape photographer understands this.”  His words haunt me because there are too many I never see.  Now for real, not every sunrise or sunset contributes to the making of a good image.  Good ones don’t always happen just like fish aren’t always biting.  In truth, I miss too many of the good ones.  And my friends let me know when I do; “Oh, did you see the sunrise this morning?; Wow, I hope you got that sunset last night. It was fantastic!”  I love my friends!  They are few, but they are special!

Yesterday evening, I’m doing nothing in particular when one of these good friends calls me up.  The conversation begins like this:

“Hello”

“Well, I’m going to tell you right now, I can’t go.  I hate it, but I’m just not able to go.  I’m on my way to Elgin to meet family for supper.  But there are some clouds out here that look like they might make for a pretty good sunset.  You ought to go if you can.  If you get something good, send it to me.”

Well, what do you do?  Good friends hold you accountable.  I grabbed my bag, pulled a bottle of water out of the fridge and I’m out the door.  And, as it turned out it was pretty good and I had a great time just being out there.  Yes, the catch isn’t big enough for a company fish fry, but it’s big enough to keep.  I sent it to my friend earlier this morning.

Fish, Friends, and Photography?  I need all three, and sometimes, it takes all three.

Carl Ray

Patience: Not Easy

Patience Pays Off
Daylight Spills Across the Refuge

Patience:  Not So Much

In my youth, personal projects were marred because I lacked patience to wait for the first coat of varnish to dry completely before I applied a second coat.  I stopped fishing years ago.  I just couldn’t sit and wait patiently for a bite.  Unless I must, I don’t stand in lines.  I switch lines during checkout only to watch the one I vacated move faster than the one in which, impatiently, I now wait.  Grilling with charcoal takes patience to wait for the coals to get just right.  Now, I grill with propane.  It’s a good thing I like my steak medium rare.  I’m just sayin’.

My lack of patience extends to my photography.  I hunt for scenes that are materializing at the moment.  If it doesn’t, I’m off and running, again.  I’m kinda like a storm chaser only I chase images.  Lighting conditions change so quickly, countless times I have packed away my gear and driven off only to see the picture coming together in my rear view mirror.  Ansel Adams once said, “Sometimes I do get to places just when God’s ready to have somebody click the shutter.”  Aha, that’s what I’m after.  Every time.  The reality is that it rarely ever happens.  Adams was better known for arriving at a destination, setting up his tripod and camera, composing a shot, focusing, setting the camera and then sometimes, waiting for hours for the light he envisioned.  That’s patience I don’t have, but I’m working on it.  Age and retirement are making it easier, somewhat.  I offer the picture above as an example of improved patience.

Before going to bed the night before, I made a commitment to go to the Wichita Mountains Wildlife Refuge for a sunrise picture.  That meant leaving for the Refuge at dark-thirty.  Even as I was pulling out of my driveway, I had thoughts about calling it off; In the darkness I could tell the sky was heavily overcast and I thought to myself, “What’s the use?  The sunrise won’t be visible, anyway.  I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.  There are things I could be doing at home.”  Reasons not to go.  Then, the thought about Ansel propelled me out of the driveway, down the street and on my way.

Being familiar with an area helps.  Upon entering the Refuge via the Cache gate, I drove to an area of promise should light begin to break through the clouds and before the light became too harsh.  With civil twilight barely creating enough light to avoid tripping over a cobblestone protruding from the ground (I rarely use a flashlight), I made my way, backpack filled with equipment, tripod in hand, to a position of best potential. Once there, I set up my tripod and camera, composed the scene, set the camera and focus to achieve the greatest depth of field and began to wait.  My impatience, clicked the shutter a few times in spite of not seeing anything worthwhile.  It wasn’t long before I spied a spot with better potential.  I moved and set up again.  I took a few more pictures as light began to break through the clouds.  After a few minutes, I spied a third spot even better.  I moved again and set up, again.  Things were beginning to work out.  The light was breaking through, highlighting some interesting points of interest.  I was happy and having fun.  Until I noticed a fourth spot, even better than the first three.  This perch required some boulder hopping, precarious foot placement, and some pretty nifty balancing to get all set up for the image you see above.  I must tell you, the best light, at each of the other places, came after I had moved.  This, I determined would be my last move; I was going to exercise patience and stay there until the good light had ended.  And I did!  Yea!  This isn’t a spectacular image.  It has some good points and some that could be better.  However, this was more about developing my patience than anything else.  In that regard I made some progress, but, I still have a good ways to go.

Carl

Time to Stop Planning and Start Doing

cre_150602_02582_3_4_es-1A couple dozen times a year for over a decade I have driven passed this elm tree, and the farmer’s field in which it’s stood for several decades.  I have driven by during different seasons, with different sunrises and sunsets in the background, different crops growing in the field, different weather conditions, e.g., rain, snow, drought, different times of the day, in different moods, and for different reasons.  Visions of a hundred different images have popped-up in my head, but I never stopped to capture any of them on film or sensor.  This time was no different.  I didn’t stop in passing.  No, on this particular morning, this was my destination, and perhaps my destiny.

Before retiring to bed the night before this was taken, I spoke to myself and said, “If you wake up on your own, not alarm clock assisted, anytime between 4:00 AM and 4:30 AM, you are going to get out of bed and drive to this elm tree in the hope of capturing an image worth the trouble”.  When I finally crawled into bed, my camera gear was loaded and ready to go.  What I was going to wear was already laid out.  The coffee maker was filled with coffee makings and waiting only to have the start button pushed at whatever time I should walk into the kitchen.  Yep, you can guess what happened; Yes, it really did!

Sixty minutes, three gallons gasoline, and $6.50 in tolls later, I found myself pulling off the turnpike, driving across the right-of-way, and parking alongside the fence separating the farmer’s private land from the public’s “hurry up and get their toll road.  Yes, I finally did it!  I’m glad I did it!

What…are you…waiting on?  Hmm?  Stop planning and go do it!  You’ll be glad you did.