ESTABLISHED 2010 - Beyond The Campfire was created to encourage readers to explore the great outdoors and to observe it close up. Get out and take a hike, go fishing or canoeing, or simply stretch out on a blanket under a summer sky...and take your camera along. We'll talk about combining outdoor activities with photography. We'll look at everything from improving your understanding of the basics of photography to more advanced techniques including things like how to see photographically and capturing the light. We'll explore the night sky, location shoots, using off camera speedlights along with nature and landscape. Grab your camera...strap on your hiking boots...and join me. I think you will enjoy the adventure.

Monday, July 18, 2016

Point of Greatest Potential

Some years ago I heard Dewitt Jones, a former National Geographic photographer say something that proved to become a life altering moment for me as a photographer. He simply said, "...be willing to place yourself at that point of greatest potential..." What he meant was, as a photographer in order to capture those iconic moments, you must be willing to do what you must do to place yourself in the best possible position to capture the most meaningful moments of light. We do not always know when those iconic moments will occur. We can only make a guess and see what happens, like what happened during this seasons wheat harvest.


Not a cloud broke the pale blue hue of the June sky. For a photographer, not so good. The sky needs clouds to add texture and interest. I kept hoping some would develop come sundown to create one of those legendary Kentucky sunsets, but as luck would have it what greated me was a bright, pale, flat pallet.

I had connected once again with my farmer friends James and Mark to photograph the wheat harvest. The idea was to shoot late in the day and into the early evening hoping to frame against the sunset the giant mechanical wonder they used to harvest the wheat. It was a large field and as the monster combine growled across the field clouds of dust and chaff filled the space behind it. As the sun settled behind the tree line I tried to make something happened, but there just wasn't any texture to the sky, just a bright glow that made it difficult to capture anything that looked interesting. Did manage to catch a few interesting shots with their running lights on, but what I wanted most just did not happen.


I have learned over the years that sometimes you need to turn around and look the other direction, just to see what is behind you. Doing so will often reveal an entirely new perspective. As luck would have it, from instinct I did turn around for a moment and noticed that a magnificent full moon was about to drift clear of the horizon. It was the first day of summer, and as I discovered later, this was to be the last full moon in our lifetime to occur on this day. No sunset worth capturing, so I adapted and began shooting in the other direction and concentrated on framing their operation against this amazing natural moment. It proved more difficult than I expected.

First of all I knew if I exposed for the combine and their lights, the moon would become a bright spot in the sky showing no texture at all, but if I exposed for the moon, the combine and fields would turn into a dark mass indistinguishable from the background. What I had to do was take two shots. The first was to capture the working equipment as it passed in front of the moon while it hovered low in the sky. The second was to expose for the moon. This second moon exposure was then cut and superimposed over the blown out moon from the first shot. Adding a bit of guasian blur to just the moon helped to blend it more evenly into the dark blue of the evening sky. Simple enough one might think, but it turned out to be an iconic photograph that could only occur on this first day of summer where the harvest coincided with the full moon.

Being there at that moment meant I was able to capture something that will not happen again in my lifetime.


Tuesday, July 12, 2016

Blending Two to Make One

I rarely use Photoshop Layers when I work up an image. On occasion I have, but most of the time the layers used were just a part of a plug-in software process that used them behind the scenes. However there is a simple way to use layers to create a new image from two separate images. The image shown below was made using this method.


First of all you need two images; the main background image, and the layered image that will be placed on top of the background image. In my example the background image is the wheat harvest farm equipment and the overlay image is the flag.

Using Photoshop Elements; First step is to open both the background image and the overlay image, then return to the background image.



Then, drag the overlay image, in this case the flag, into the background image. This will create a new PassThrough layer.


 Next grab the corners of the overlay image and expand it out to completely cover the background image and position the image the way you want it to line up.


Then using the Opacity slider, reduce the opacity of the layer down to something like 20% to 25% or to whatever looks good to you. Last step is to flatten the layer and save the new image.

It is that simple. This kind of operation can be used for a multitude of effects using a variety of image types.


Saturday, June 25, 2016

The Adventure Side of Photography

Photography is an adventure no matter how you approach it. In fact if you approach it as an adventure, it does not matter where you are or what you are doing, opportunities can appear out of no where. That's the adventure part of it; you never know what to expect. Being ready is the most difficult part because those opportunities can and do often quickly disappear. Actually, approaching photography from an adventure aspect increases its appeal all the more. What better way to experience the highs and lows associated with any given adventure than to be able to capture it as it happens. A few years ago my fishing partners and I managed to schedule a few days for a much anticipated and needed float trip that proved the merit of approaching the craft as an adventure.

If I remember correctly, that was the 'Legend of Skull Bluff' trip where I managed to tumble out of my canoe as I was pushed by a determined wind and strong current into a rather annoying sweeper that effectively lived up to its name. As a result, my camera gear was drenched which pretty well ended my picture taking for the remainder of the trip. (Fortunately it was insured so it proved more of an inconvenience than a disaster). Before the drenching I managed to take some good photos, one in particular proved to be rather exciting. It was another one of those adventure trips we had made many times before, most of which were uneventful. This one proved to be otherwise.

We were on a four or five day float trip, depending on how fast we decided to travel the 60 miles or so down to the take out at Gilbert on Arkansas' Buffalo National Scenic River. We experienced just about every kind of weather you can have, except snow, and it came close to doing that as well. From perfect blue sky upper 70's, to chilly 50's and blustery, to high winds, to a woolly bugger lightning storm that blew in with ominous clouds followed by a significant temperature drop into the upper 30's and rain, we endured it all during those few days.


The image shown above became one of those snap adventure moments. My floating partners were just ahead of me as I rounded a bend when the scene unfolded. The white bark of the river birch trees glowed silvery against the pale green background. Its gnarled and crooked branches pierced through the olive greenery and, combined with the overcast skies, to create an ancient Jurassic landscape appearance. My floating partners spun their canoe and began to cross over from left to right lining themselves up to cut through a shallow set if riffles. Their position in the composition became critical to the success of the image. I grabbed my camera and framed the image instinctively firing off the shot. The resulting image captured the essence of our multi-day float trip. That is what approaching photography as an adventure can do for you.

Sitting on a shelf inside a book case are several albums I prefer to call 'Bragging Books'. They are filled with hundreds of snapshot photos from fishing and hunting trips, to canoeing and hiking trips. Few if any of them possess any kind of quality to them, but the memories they capture speak of moments shared with friends across several decades. On those occasions when I was able to bring to bare my higher quality camera and lens, well some of the images stand apart as not only captured moments, but captured expressions of nature at its best.

Sometimes the composition simply appears in front of you. When that happens it becomes a scramble to extract the camera and proper lens, set the exposure, frame the composition, and catch the moment before it fades away. Talk about an adventure. It is perhaps one of the most difficult kinds of photography, capturing those snap moments you recognize as unique quality examples. Too often I have missed the moment. All it takes is for a cloud to drift to far in one direction, a beam of light hitting the trees just right to fade, or a too quick decision with the camera and you end up with a blurred product, to ruin your efforts. It is a challenge at times to remain alert to what spontaneously presents itself, but it makes you a better spontaneous photographer. Seeing is 90% of the battle when it comes to photography. Learning how to see spontaneously requires you practise at it. Approaching your photography from the aspect of it being an adventure will provide opportunities for plenty of such practise.