The Story Behind The Photograph - Wild White Indigo Sunrise

Every photograph contains two stories. The first one being the visual message you the photographer are attempting to show. The other one being the story behind the image, or what it took to capture the photograph. In many ways the second story can often be the more intriguing of the two but because of its nature, it is almost always known only to the photographer.

Great photographs rarely happen because of random chance. Most are captured only through perseverance, planning, and vision.  Capturing something truly unique is as much about how you manage to place yourself at that point of best potential as it is understanding the fundamentals of photography. Sometimes luck does play a roll, yet simply being there requires a choice. Seeing the opportunity requires you look beyond the ordinary. Capturing it requires the ability to command the moment both technically and artistically.

Over the next several posts we will take a closer look at what it took to capture a specific image. Let's begin with one of my favorites; Wild White Indigo Sunrise.

The damp, prairie grass closely hugged the full length of my legs as I walked in the predawn light into this Oklahoma landscape. Even though it was late spring, the morning air was cooled by a whispering, but stiff breeze as it caressed the upper reaches of the blue stems and the myriad other prairie grasses. With each step I felt my soul move closer to heaven and at once I was transported to an ancient time long before white men trekked across the plains to settle new lands. My senses were filled with the sweet prairie aroma, familiar, yet somehow foreign to my civilized nature. I paused for a moment and cast a gaze toward the sky. Nothing but thick clouds stretching beyond the horizon threatened to circumvent an attempt to capture one of those legendary prairie sunrises.

When I reached a shallow high spot that fell away toward a long valley stretching to the horizon I stopped and placed the camera tripod onto the rocky ground, and extended its legs between the grasses to form a secure platform. My large camera backpack by this time felt heavier than I remember it being and I slipped the straps off my shoulders and gently placed it on the ground. There was just enough daylight forming to allow me to see. It wasn't the dramatic pre-sunrise light I hoped for, but a somber gray mood was cast across the prairie and with it most of my hopes of a great morning of shooting.

Around me prairie birds began to stir warming up their songs to announce the arrival of dawn. There were no other sounds but the breeze, the birds, and my labored breathing. The morning breeze rose toward a wind causing the loose material of my long sleeve cotton shirt to flap. I noticed the tops of the grasses were beginning to arch more and more, leaning over, then springing back in time with variances of the wind, and the morning progressed toward what would be sunrise, a hidden sunrise clouded behind that vail of overcast hugging close to the ground.

I locked the camera onto the tripod, installed my long 50 to 500 mm lens, a good one to start with just in case some bison appeared deeper across the valley. I had given up hope of catching the sunrise, but instead hoped to see something of the wildlife I knew roamed, or flew, or scurried across the prairie in this area.

Directly in front of me about 10 yards away the silhouette of a lone Wild White Indigo plant rocked back and forth with the wind and the day grew brighter, still gray, but light enough now to be able to see across the valley. The overcast too changed as more texture appeared across its subsurface area and the winds began to stir the clouds lifting them higher above the valley. I checked the time, the sun would be full up as sunrise was behind me now by a few moments. I again looked toward where I believed the sun was hidden behind the cloud cover, the sky grew a bit brighter and a pale cast of color appeared between a thinned layer of overcast.

Pointing my camera toward this pale color, I zoomed and focused, but it just did not look right, yet as I was looking through the view finder, the lone wild white indigo plant suddenly darted across my field of view. It was bouncing and rocking back and forth with the wind, and I tried to focus on it as best as I could. At the same time, that thin band of color, suddenly grew brighter as the clouds parted just enough to allow the sun to almost burn through. Across the field of view, a bulls eye apparition of gold, yellow, and orange mixed with the thinner blue-gray clouds and then without much warning, the hidden sun almost burned a hole in the clouds and created a brilliant spot across the dark overcast. The Indigo plant continued to sway in the wind and I knew this moment would not last long. I focused on the indigo plant to take a shot but the wind pushed it over...I waited...waited...waited...the brilliant color began to fade, then the wind calmed for a brief moment and the indigo plant lifted upright into my field of view. I snapped the shot. Not more than a few seconds later, the cloud cover once again engulfed the sun and it was gone.

Moments such as this one are rare encounters along the journey of a photographer. A degree of luck played out during this photo shoot, but had I not already scouted the area, rose well before sunrise, driven for an hour, then hiked in the darkness to be there, this encounter would never have happened. I love photographing Oklahoma's Tallgrass Prairie as it provides an array of opportunities found in no other location. It is truly a land of color, a world of adventure, an enchanted place where what once was...still is.

Five Most Important Photography Things I learned in 2017

Photography is a passion with an almost never ending array of new possibilities. Seems I am forever seeking to improve, to move forward, to continue to seek out that one perfect photograph. Along the way, every year I learn something new, and after every photo shoot I recognize areas needing improvement. There are times I fall into a state of complacency where instead of bringing visions to life, those visions seem to stagnate into the ordinary. Even though that one great photo I long for still seems far away, progressively, step by step, I do improve.

At the end of each year, to reinforce the learning process, I often take time to evaluate how that year progressed. Here then, is a short list of five things I learned about photography in 2017 and why they are important to me.

First of all it is important to not be so rigid but remain flexible. I've learned to tighten my photographic potential by focusing efforts toward a single type of photo shoot. This does not contradict my views on Cross Training where you pursue different kinds of photography. I still believe over the long haul, trying different kinds of photography is the best way to gain a balanced understanding of photographic techniques. What I mean by tightening your photographic potential is to expand how you approach any single type of photography. In my case, I began to focus portrait photography into a more tightly controlled event where the purpose was to create a single image with a specific look. Portrait photography is simply one type of photography I do as part of the cross training. By taking a tighter approach to it, I was forced to take a more creative look at lighting. Most location shoots can be done effectively using a single or maybe two speed lights and a simple light modifier, or even just natural light. But, focusing on a single look, requires you to evaluate not only the lighting on your subject, but how light can be used to add interest and depth to the background. It also rejuvenates your creative juices forcing you to think beyond the ordinary to create an interesting combination of subject vs location.

Secondly, it is important to photograph your life. Ask yourself, "What is really important to me right now?" and set about finding ways to document those things. It does not matter what it is. What matters is how you view those events and how you can capture them in such a way as to provide an interesting visual representation of what they are. As one example, this past year I realized my old Jeep was aging faster than I was and it was in need of a great deal of maintenance upgrades. After spending many hours working on it to bring it back to a point where its life could be extended, I realized how important that old vehicle has been to me over the past 20 years. Oddly enough, I almost never took any pictures of it, so I set out to do so...and will continue to do so in the future.

Thirdly, do it for yourself and don't worry about what others think or care about. If I have a fault photographically it is where I hope others would see the world the same as I do and they would also discover just how interesting and exciting some of the photographic challenges I've set for myself could become. For the most part, I was wrong to think that way and as a result I found myself being disappointed far more than I should have been. What I learned was that not everyone will have the same enthusiasm levels for what you are wanting to do and it is important to not allow yourself to become disappointed to the point you want to give up trying. The creative actions found in photography are directly associated to your own personal desires and dreams. All of us are different in that regard and we should encourage not only ourselves to follow our own dreams, but to encourage others to follow theirs, then cheer for them when they succeed.

Number four on the list revolves around the creative process and how it not only relates to the capture of photographs, but to building the tools we can use to do so. I work on a very limited budget and cannot simply go out and purchase new expensive tools when I need them. Sometimes, for a whole lot less expense, you can make them yourself. A DIY project can provide a great deal of joy and satisfaction, not to mention the practical benefits of using those tools. This past year I built two sets of Strip Lights based on original plans I found on the Internet. My versions were slightly modified from the original design, but it did not take long to discover just how useful they are, plus they provide a creative lighting edge you can not find using any other lighting source. Getting involved in projects like these simply adds to the fun of photography. I also took a long exciting look at post processing and began to experiment more with layering multiple zones of light to create a single image from several images. It did not take long to realize just powerful a technique this can become. With careful planning, creating dynamic portraits becomes a reality. It adds another dimension to the creative process and once you understand the principles, it is quite easy to do.

For number five I've learned to let go of preconceived notions about how to work with people in general. In a way this is related to number three. Working with people, even friends, can sometimes disappoint you if those people appear to let you down. As a general rule, eventually people will let you down. The trick is to not get too worked up about it. Three times this past year I had hopes of participating in some creative photo shoots I dreamt up. All three times, those hopes fell apart because people who seemed enthusiastic about participating seemed to always find excuses for not following through. My general rule of thumb is to give someone the benefit of the doubt two times, and then offer a third, after that I stop and move on. In spite of these setbacks, I also had several wonderful shoots where the moment was amazing and the results were wonderful because of the enthusiasm of the people involved. The joy and excitement from those shoots far outweighed the disappointments.

Photography requires a constant growth from those of us who pursue it. When we stop trying to learn, stop trying to discover new adventures, or settle for complacency, that is when we should consider placing the camera in the closet and doing something else. So far, even after decades of pursuing that one great photograph, I still find myself hungry for the adventure. I relearned how the process of discovery will help you retain a youthful vigor, and when you do discover something new, well...the long journey to get there turns out to be the most important part.

The Neurotic Photographer

I suppose it is our nature as photographers to act a bit neurotic when we are on a photo shoot.  Probably stems from trying to second guess the conditions wondering through all the what-if-scenarios…what if I were at the other location…what if I waited too long or left too soon…what if I used a different lens…what if I should be on top of the ridge instead of at the bottom…what if I had come the day before or waited until tomorrow…you get the idea.

A neurotic photographer always seems to be in a hurry and distracted, but somehow it works to our advantage. My thoughts are always working, my vision is always searching, and my creative instincts kick into automatic mode. As a result more often than not, some obscure frame of reference suddenly appears. It is less about finding an object to photograph. It is more about seeing it hidden amongst the chaos. I suppose it takes a chaotic mind to produce visions clear enough to find those hidden jewels.

I will often find myself skidding to a halt because something appeared out of the corner of my eye. Sometimes color is the trigger, other times it is a shape, and less often it is a combination or collection of signals that trigger the shutter in my neurotic mind. Out of the blue, my thoughts create an image out of the myriad of visual singles. What was obscure becomes defined. What was chaotic becomes clear. There is no way to quantify the process or even explain how it happens, it just does. What is most difficult is to find an ordinary photo opportunity, one that looks ordinary to the unaided eye, yet being able to see beyond the moment and create a visual image in your mind from the potential of what is there. Only truly neurotic photographers have this ability…or so it would seem.

The neurotic photographer does seem to focus more intently on the world around him. Where others might simply pass by, he sees potential. What others might consider mundane because they are only looking at the moment, he looks beyond the moment and sees it as it can be. The neurotic photographers mind will rapidly compute lighting angles, times of day, seasonal changes, weather conditions, and how all of them will positively affect what might actually be a mundane, ordinary view at the moment. Then he returns, multiple times if necessary until the lighting angle, time of day, season and weather coincide with the vision he created in his mind. Once there, an instinctual command of the mechanics of photography replaces all of the neurosis, and the creative process kicks in. 

Sometimes I wonder what would happen if I were no longer a neurotic photographer. I suppose I would become a mechanical photographer who takes pictures of things and relies on random chance as opposed to someone who visualizes, then captures all the glorious colors of light. The neurotic photographers mind is a colorful thing of beauty. I hope I never lose mine.