For Having Done So - More to Photography Than Taking Pictures

As I have grown older through the years spending time afield fishing, I’ve learned to adhere to a wise old axiom:  There is more to fishing than catching fish.  One could read a lot into that statement or even look right past it.  But, if you were to truly read between the lines I’m sure most people would understand that the act of fishing is more important than the act of catching fish.  I suppose a tournament fisherman might argue otherwise…but, for most of us who do not rely on the sport of fishing to earn our keep, I suppose it makes more sense.

I went fishing once with a guy some years ago who for the most part just held the front end of my canoe down and grumbled the whole day about how bad the fishing was. By the time we pulled out…early I might add…his attitude was one of a wasted day and effort.  Between the two of us I don’t recollect that we caught a single fish…oddly enough, we came away from the trip with two different perspectives;  I loved just getting out…he complained about not catching anything and considered the time a waste.  Seems he missed the point completely and allowed a narrow perspective to ruin what could have otherwise been a great day.  Can’t rightly say that I ever went fishing with that guy again after that…it’s been a long time ago, even so, I’d venture a guess there was a good reason for not having done so.

In recent weeks as I’ve spent time canoe fishing and taking a few photos along the way, I began to reflect on that axiom again…seems my ability to catch fish hasn’t improved much over the years, so I tend to reflect more on the aesthetic values of fishing while casting a line.   Certainly catching a bass or two on any given trip adds to the flavor of the moment, but what’s more important is simply the journey…a journey that really has no end point, just a continuous reaffirmation of the emotional connection to what really matters in life.

One recent Saturday morning, I managed to climb out of bed early and make it over to my fishing spot before the sun came up.  As I paddled across the mirror smooth lake, I spent most of the first hour or so just taking pictures in the soft pre-dawn light.  It was an amazing morning in many ways and when I arrived I had some hopes that the light, and fishing, would be great...but mostly I just wanted to reconnect with one of my favorite pastimes.  As the morning progressed, the light changed with every tick of the clock, and I kept framing photo after photo and between shots simply sat and enjoyed the morning show.  As soon as I would think the best light had come and gone…the light would change again and an entirely new moment would appear.  The colors spanned a range from pale blues and lavenders to bold reds and oranges…thru subtle wispy fog…across bold apparitions and silhouettes…through perfect lake reflections as the sun broke free of the ridge. 

I ended up with some decent images having worked the camera pretty hard during that golden stretch of early light.  When it was finally over, I sat the camera aside and started fishing in earnest again…By then my visions were not so much of catching big bass, they were of remarkable moments of having experienced a special part of God’s world at a time when 
most people are still fast asleep.

Photographs capture a single moment in time…being there at those remarkable times to experience a new day from its first moments of life generates a prolonged feeling that lingers well past the actual event. Every similar outing provides for a new experience…a new understanding of what is important. Being able to capture a few moments afield  photographically…well, it’s sort of like catching a bass while fishing...fun and rewarding, yet, that’s not the main reason why I traveled that journey...it’s simply the bonus for having done so.

Keith

Photograph What You Feel

I was the only person on the lake...somewhat of a surprise being it was Saturday.  The sun was a good thirty minutes from rising so the soft first light of morning outlined the treeline that undulated across the top of the ridge.  There was an ever so slight breeze...just enough to move the wispy fog that clung to the surface of the lake into ever changing forms and ghost like apparitions.  For August, the cool morning air seemed out of place...I didn't complain.  The only sound was the gentle report of the paddle as it propelled my Old Town canoe across the surface.  Two...three strokes on one side...then the other...and back again...someday I will actually learn how to do the J-stroke...but on this morning I simple zigged and zagged a crooked line toward the upper end of the lake.

A couple hundred yards from the put in, I slowed to a stop and turned to my right just a bit.  As I drifted and looked up at the last of the stars still shining I noticed hovering above the eastern ridge was a crescent moon glowing bright white against the blue of the morning light.  This was certainly one of those photo moments worth taking.  I knew it would require a long exposure in the low light...so I moved toward the west bank and found a slippery, but level spot to get out and setup the tripod attaching the camera in the darkness as I ducked below an overhanging limb.  Several long exposures and I shoved off again...no time to over evaluate the images...I needed to close the gap between me and the upper end of the lake before the sun climbed too high.

My fishing rod lay stretched across the starboard (right) side of the canoe.  Around me I could see bait fish jumping as predators hunted for a meal.  No time to cast a line...the morning was growing brighter.  Previous excursions taught me that the best perspective for morning shots on this little lake would be found on the upper end looking back to the east.  To my right I noticed the 'Big Rock' glowing in the dim light and reflecting off the perfectly calm surface...I had to give it a try...No time or place for a tripod...just have to bump the ISO and hold it steady...two quick shots (which turned out to be a bit too soft)...and I continued toward my morning rendezvous.

A few minutes later I rounded the point that stretched toward the earthen dam...connected a deep diving lure to my fishing line and made a few tentative casts as I kept one eye on the eastern ridge.  First light of the morning changes so rapidly that sometimes by the time you get the camera out of the bag (or waterproof box in this case) what was there a moment before is gone.   I put the fishing rod down and simply drifted and watched the performance reflect off the mirrored surface of the lake.

The wispy fog grew thicker as the air cooled and the gentle currents of air launched them into a splendid choreographed swirling dance set to the symphony of the sounds of dawn.  The horizon grew brighter and the glow began to build...pastels...reds...grays...blues...oranges...yellow subtle this time...not as bold as on previous trips.  It was a feast for eyes hungry for reflective moments afield.  True to its nature, what played out on this morning served to calm a tired spirit.

Over the next thirty minutes, I snapped about a 150 images...all the while keeping in mind what I wanted to capture was what I was feeling...less so what I actually saw...which was amazing in its own right.  To accomplish this I worked the exposure compensation button almost as much as I did the shutter release...applied the use of a graduated neutral density filter to bring the sky and reflections closer to the same exposure value and, most importantly I waited for that defining moment...a moment that can sometimes be elusive and chameleon like...constantly changing...ever moving...always calling and stirring the emotions.  The morning did not disappoint.

By the time the sun climbed above the ridge...the shoot was all but over save for a few random shots here and there.  The next couple of hours was spent mostly fishing and simply enjoying what I enjoy doing most...managed to catch a couple of bass in the process.  Not only did I manage to capture another amazing Shanty Hollow morning...I managed to rekindle that sense of adventure...ever so brief as it was...and when I find time to review the images from that morning...I'll always remember the emotion of the moment...because, after all...that was my mission all along.

Keith

The Golden Hour - Plan Ahead

Chasing the light can wear out a photographer, and it can get a bit expensive with near $4.00 / gal gasoline prices.  It's better to do less chasing and more planning.  A few years ago I watched a video by legendary National Geographic photographer Dewitt Jones where he advocated one very important piece of advise that has stuck with me ever since.  What he spoke about was not just for photographers...but for everyday living really, and it makes a lot sense.  What he said was...be willing to place yourself at that point of greatest potential.


Think about that for a minute and break it down...Point of greatest potential...be willing....place yourself.  When it comes to photography a simple philosophy such as this can make the difference between capturing ordinary photographs...or capturing ordinary things in an extraordinary way.  Visualize if you will some of the greatest images you've ever seen.  What was it about those images that captured your imagination?  The location...perhaps...the subject...maybe.  Odds are if you really thought about it, what really captured your imagination was how the photographer placed himself in the very best position to capture that particular moment in time.  In essence he was willing to do what was necessary to be in a position to capture the absolutely best light of the day.  Doing so requires planning ahead...doing your homework...anticipating the potential of a location and recognizing what kind of lighting conditions will best fulfill capturing the vision you have for your photography.

One of the very best times is what is known as The Golden Hour.  This can be defined several ways...but the way I define it is a combination of the first fifteen minutes before and after sunrise and the last fifteen minutes before and after sundown.  Together that gives you a full hour of the best light of the day.  I'm not necessarily talking about sunrises and sunsets...although most of us are naturally attracted to them for obvious reasons.  Try not to get mesmerized by the boldness of those moments, instead, look around and see what kind of effect that light has on the things around you.  That soft light...blue light...golden light...pastel light will often give a location or an object a uniquely different look and appeal.

Take for instance this photograph taken a couple winters ago in Kentucky.  It was very cold and the night before a winter storm had covered the landscape with a beautiful pristine layer of snow.  The clouds had cleared, the sky was brilliant, and a full moon was hovering over the western horizon not long from setting.  I was up before dawn and drove to a location I had tried to photograph several times before with little success.  Even so, I knew that location had potential...it was just a matter of being ready when the opportunity presented itself.  The sun was a good fifteen maybe twenty minutes from rising, but the pre-dawn sky carried a lavender glow which was reflected in the snow.  This was the moment I had hoped for...and it was rapidly moving toward its finality. Using a tripod, I made several exposures over the course of several minutes before the amazing light evaporated and the sky became too bright.  It wasn't until after I had downloaded the images that I realized just how amazing this photographic moment was.

Being at that place of greatest potential, being prepared, and using the first light of the golden hour all combined to created a wonderfully simply, yet powerful winter scene.  It was the glow in the sky that created the amazing light...the snow simply enhanced the moment.  Planning ahead...being prepared...understanding the impact the light of the golden hour has and then being willing to place yourself at that point of greatest potential will more often than not result in great opportunities.

Keith