On The Edge of Light

 I was not sure what to expect. Pretty much all day long not a single cloud invaded the cobalt blue sky which glowed with a keen sharpness, a winters sky for sure, one that possessed a clean edge to it. The sun had broadcast a wide yet low angle brightness across the landscape throughout the day, and as I made the half hour drive to my intended shooting location I thought maybe I should wait until there might be more texture in the sky. 

I arrived a few minutes later, not long before sundown, where a small grove of trees, a few smaller ones bracketed by two larger ones stood high above the horizon, and I realized that maybe the conditions just might work after all. As the sun dropped below the skyline just left of the group of trees, an orange glow filtered upward into the stark blue of an approaching night sky, an edge of light that filled the air and spread across the background with an amazing contrast of simple color.

One of the key elements I search for when photographing landscapes is what I call Edge Light.

Edge light is an angle of light that creates a sharpness, an isolation of, an almost purposeful ability to allow for the translation of a scene based on the impact a particular moment of light generates. This impact often creates a simplified moment where time, place, and light fall into place to offer an artistic opportunity to capture subtle yet powerful images of nature. It is not isolated to specific times of day such as sunrise or sunset. As powerful as those moments are for offering edge light, edge light can be found almost anytime of day. It's a matter of recognizing it and looking for it.

Edge light imparts a sharpness to a scene far exceeding normal everyday light. It more readily defines what the subject is. It outlines what is there in conditional specifics where an artistic eye will readily see and understand what is happening. Framing it, exposing for it, eliminating what is not needed and focusing in on the true story of the moment, is the photographers job. It's not always easy, sometimes even good photographers miss it, but with experience, seeing edge light becomes easier and more productive. Being able to visually recognize the story amongst all the clutter come with practise. Many times the adage of being able to visually remove what is not necessary in a photograph before ever firing off the shot certainly applies to using edge light.

A good photographer has the ability to see the image long before he ever captures it. Sometimes it is obvious, but most of the time it requires looking beyond the big picture to identify the smaller more important elements. Once a few years ago I was hiking in a woodland area. It was late morning and the sun was quite bright. Certainly not the best conditions for photographing a woodlands as the light was also quite harsh and spotty generating layer upon layer of contrasty conditions. I asked myself, what is capturing my attention...where is my eye going...what am I truly seeing. That is when I noticed a clump of grassy elements growing out of the edge of a moss covered stump. A beam of light spotlighted it against the dark background. Using a long lens, I zoomed in on the scene and instantly recognized how this was the photograph I was looking for. It was a simple composition cast across the more complex elements within the wider woodlands area. Edge light that separated the subject from all the clutter was the key.

Edge light works for most any kind of subject, but sometimes luck plays a part as it was with a little buck whitetail deer late one evening. I was well hidden and camouflaged and the wind worked in my favor as the little buck walked toward me across the edge of an old cornstubble field. About 40 yards or so off, he stopped, looked into the woods, and froze for several seconds. The late afternoon edge light partially backlit him against a dark background. Dried grass along the edge of the cornstubble field caught the light and his small antlers and neck were illuminated by this low angle light. He was looking away from me, but that was okay as the moment turned out to be very special, and edge light was what helped to make it so.

Edge light is often what makes or breaks a photographic moment. Recognizing it when it is there is key to understanding how to use it to your advantage.

 

The Ansel Adams Project: Sky, Clouds, and Water - Finding Opportunities Close to Home

Sometimes I wish I could just take off and spend a summer and/or fall driving across the country visiting all those amazing locations we hear about and catch tantalizing glimpses of through videos and photographs. Oh, over the years I actually have been able to visit a few of those amazing places, but those visits happened a good many years ago. I have friends of mine now who have recently been able to do at least a portion of that kind of adventure and their photographs and stories about what they encountered are so very interesting.

The Ansel Adams Project has jump started a desire in myself to explore nature more closely and to visualize the landscape with a renewed mindset. It is through that visualization process I begin see beyond the color cast of the natural world and gaze more deeply into the structure and graphic potential of black and white. Ansel, of course had Yosemite and pretty much all of the American west to fulfill his creative abilities. I, on the other hand, have no such resources like those richly endowed scenic wonders. Yet, instead of pining away my time wishing I could do the things I am currently unable to do, instead I pursue what I can do and explore the resources I find nearby. Places like Mammoth Cave NP, just up the road less than an hour away, is a great place for backcountry hiking and backpacking especially in the fall. There is also Barren River Lake east of here about a half hour away along with a favorite place like Shanty Hollow about the same distance northwest of my home. Both are wonderful locations filled with opportunities. Plus there are abundant creeks and meadows, woodlands and farmlands with their big sky arenas just waiting for someone to tap into their photographic potential. This project has reopened my eyes to that potential, the kind of potential that lives just outside my backdoor. I'll probably create a video program later on in the season about this Ansel Adams Project and share some of the images and experiences I managed to grab along the way.

Recently, I paddled my canoe on about a 15 mile loop on Barren River Lake. Been a while since I paddle a canoe that far in one day (that was on the flowing waters of The Buffalo River in Arkansas). The week before I had made an overnight canoe trip on Barren River Lake, about a 6 or 7 mile round trip. During that outing I decided to find time and see just how far I could go in an all day trip whenever I could get the right weather conditions. Less than a week later, the weather forecast was for light and variable winds, and partly cloudy skies mid-week along with moderate low 80's temperatures, so I loaded up the canoe...I remembered to bring my paddle this time...and headed off early one morning. 

Mother nature did not disappoint for the lake was just about as calm as I have ever seen it with only occasional gentle breezes generating ripples on the surface, and the skies were filled with all kinds character forming clouds. It was a bit hazy early, but most of the haze cleared to present some interesting cloud formations...the kind of day I call an Ansel Adams kind of day.

Seems I've concentrated on big sky photos mostly during the Ansel Adams Project. Ansel of course photographed all kinds of subjects, so do I actually, but the sky presents such a varied and powerful opportunity, it is difficult to pass up when it presents itself as it so often does in Kentucky. Mostly I just paddled, but would drift for a moment to capture a scene and during my breaks, the sky would shout out, "Look up this way...come...experience what I've made for you."

On this short post, I'll share just a few images from that trip for they represent the essence of what nature presented that day, plus I'll include a few other images taken recently while searching for photo opportunities around the lake. 

In shooting the images I looked for several things; an interesting foreground, character in the sky, and a background that represented the nature of what can be discovered on and around the lake. Sometimes, the foreground was simply the surface of the lake for it was quite calm and offered some nice reflections.

Normally, I would concentrate on the light when attempting a landscape composition. The good thing about black and white is that it allows for creative shooting all day long. I also tend to slightly underexpose the images especially when there are cloud formations as this helps to prevent blowing out the brightest parts of the clouds. A slightly underexposed image still retains enough information so any dark areas can be brought back to life rather easily. Doing so also helps to bring out details in the clouds creating a bit more contrast between the lighter and darker tonal values. A good black and white image will usually retain tonal elements ranging from almost white to almost black. Even white clouds need to have some tonal values in them to suggest the nature of being white, but still being able to display details.

I've included two views of the scene shown on the right and again at the top. Both have certain appealing elements to them. The blown down dead oak tree offered a wonderful foreground element and the ridge across the way a characteristic background, plus the sky was constantly changing its character. Sometimes it is difficult to expose a scene like this one for the sky was quite bright as was the weathered old tree trunk, but the background and the water were considerably darker. Again by slightly underexposing the frame(s) and using a polarizer filter to darken the sky, I was able to bring all three elements into play rather closely. Then in post processing I was able to add some light and brightness to the darker areas. In essence, I exposed for the sky and allowed the rest of the composition fall where it may and corrected for it later.

The photo on the left was actually taken early last winter on a blustery day where broken clouds filled the sky yet allowed just enough sun to poke through to cast long arms of light and shadow across the landscape. Across the lake along the tree lined ridge, a line of winter bare trees caught the light just right. The foreground included an exposed sandbar with curved lines created by wave action made over time as the lake level slowly dropped to its winter pool level. The clouds added their own textures to the sky. When it was converted into an Ansel Adams style black and white, the image came alive with its own sense of drama and real world appeal, and represents the kind of scenic flavor that is available on this lake.

The image on the right is a long range shot made of that same ridge in the previous image. Ansel Adams loved to photograph trees and used their rhythm and stately graphic charms to full advantage. As a result of this project, I am starting to identify with his love of using trees as a subject.

The day turned out to be a wonderful adventure, although I was quite tired by the end of the trip. There was so much more to the adventure than I can share. Hopefully sometime soon I'll return again to continue exploring this location.

Sky, Clouds, and Water make for amazing photographic opportunities and nature can offer all three in abundance.  All we need to do is find time to look for them, they can be just outside our backdoor.

Solo Canoe Camp on Kentucky's Barren River Lake...or...How Not to Boil Water on a Campfire

Early morning fingers of air seeped into my sleeping bag via an open flap sending a chill dribbling along my neck. Reluctantly, my eyes sort of opened, one at a time.  I shivered just a little as I closed the offending flap and rolled over hoping to gain a few more minutes of sleep. Didn't matter though. I was by now all but fully awake from a near sleepless night anyway. I lay there trying to force my eyes to stay open to see what kind of morning presented itself.  I raised up on one arm and with one eye opened and one eye still closed, scanned the scene around me. The sky held a brightness that hovered above the ridge across this arm of Barren River Lake. The sun not yet up was soon to climb above that ridge and spill a brilliant light across what was now an almost perfectly calm lake. 

Just a hint of fog drifted barely two or three inches above the surface and the water seemed covered with a dull white icing. In only a few moments the icing was gone. A few swallows were darting here and there, one swooping so close to me on the ground I could hear it's wings swooshing. As always, a few fish were surfacing creating bullseye swirls with an occasional splash or two. Can't remember the last time I actually slept out under the stars with nothing covering me but, well...a sleeping bag and the night sky. A last minute spur-of-the-moment decision once I was on site.

The day before started out with all the child-like anticipation that tends to surface each time I plan a trip like this one. It was an excited anticipation born from a long stretch of relative inactivity. Had all my gear pre-packed, ready to go, some of it pre-loaded into Kris's Jeep Liberty. A couple of cross bars on the luggage rack served as a place where my canoe could ride. Normally I drive myself in my venerable '97 Wrangler, but she cannot drive that vehicle safely with it being a stick shift and all, but I needed her to drop me off and then pick me up the next day. I really do not like leaving my Wrangler sitting unattended in an isolated vacant parking area overnight, so she in her wonderful way agreed to be my spotter and picker-upper.

We got off earlier than anticipated and made the drive over and off loaded the minimal gear and said our goodbyes'. Off she went and as I was loading my canoe a sudden element of panic set in. No paddle! In my haste to load up the last minute gear that morning, I forgot to load my paddle. Luckily, I did have my phone and hoped I also had phone service. I gave her hurried quick call,

"Hey...hun...uh...I've got a really big problem."

"What kind of problem?"

"Well...I sort of forgot to pack my paddle. Can you PLEEEAAASE pick it up and bring it to me."

"You're kidding!"

Well, she, to her credit, drove the thirty minutes back home, found the paddle laying where I had left it in the garage, and drove the thirty minutes back to deliver it to me thus saving the day and the trip. She is a real keeper and never once verbally complained about having to do such a thing. She just rolled her eyes and gave me a girlish giggle along with a silent 'I can't believe you did that!' look. (Frankly, I can't either.)

While waiting for her, I managed to watch from some distance a Bald Eagle swoop low to glide over the water and scoop up a fish. He was surely a gifted flyer. With paddle now in hand, I shoved off believing the snafu of the trip was behind me. Well, it was, mostly, however...things were to transpire that challenged that notion. 

My destination was a narrow band of gravel beach that formed around the edge of sweeping peninsula  about three miles or so from the boat ramp. It was a location I had discovered a couple years before and has proven itself a nice place for an overnighter or two. A short paddle for sure, but far enough to make the trip interesting and it allowed for an easy unrushed journey. Did not fish too much on the outbound leg, just wetted the line a few times along the way. 

Mostly I just wanted to get there and setup my simple camp near where an old dead oak tree reached its branches toward the sky. 

From previous trip

On a previous trip I managed to capture a nice night sky photo using the trunk and limbs as part of the composition.

It took about two hours factoring in some fishing time to get there and I discovered the old oak tree had now fallen across the gravel beach. My actual camp spot was still intact, but the large tree trunk straddled the beach making it difficult to navigate forcing me to climb over it numerous times. 

It did however, provide some very good firewood.

Did not do much through the afternoon. Fished a littled, paddled a little, took a few photos, and set up camp. I also gathered some firewood. For this trip I decided to not bring a cookstove for I was going to force myself to cook over an open fire. How much fun it would be I figured and no food tastes as good as when it has been cooked over a campfire, right! That may indeed be true, but...the work involved to do so, well, sort of makes the process a bit cumbersome. Seems like there is a lot of bending and stooping, getting up and down which over time can wear down old bones.

Later that first afternoon, my dinner bell began to ring so I figured it was time to boil some water to use with the Chicken Fajita Bowl freeze dried dinner I had planned. It's simple, no real cooking involved. All you do is pour in a cup and half of boiling water, mix, let it sit for 8 to 10 minutes and eat right out of the package. An easy and sure thing, except when you can't boil water worth a hoot.

I had also decided to keep my gear to a bare minimum on this trip and chose not to bring a coffee pot for boiling water. Instead, I was going to use that little almost worthless pot that came with my camp cook mess kit. It has a limited capacity to hold much but possesses a unlimited capacity to cause grief. Whoever designed that thing probably had never been camping himself. You cannot fill that pot with water then try to lift it onto a fire using that flimsy handle. Doing so will inevitably result in the pot tilting to one side spilling most of if not all the contents either onto the ground or into the fire. Knowing this is a hard earned, vital survival skill, so, I did have the forethought to bring one of those hand held pot clamps that grabs the edge of the pot and keeps it steady as you lift it...except for one thing...your hand comes very close to the fire and it is quite easy to get singed knuckles, which I did. Note to self...'Bring some campfire gloves.'

The fire was sparked into life rather quickly using a ferro rod and striker throwing a shower of sparks into super dry tender. As the flame rushed into life I realized my stack of firewood was just out of reach, so I stood, again, and stooped over, again, to grab an arm full. Problem was, the toe of my worn out tennis shoe canoeing shoes caught the edge of one of the larger pieces of firewood. To put it mildly, I tripped with one leg flying off in one direction and the other one rolling off a loose rock to bend, then deposit, my contorted body hitting the ground rather ungracefully. Fortunately, my fall was broken by assorted jagged rocks, sharp sticks, firewood logs, and damp, gritty sand which splattered across my face and into my mouth.

Seems my old sailor language always surfaces after doing such a thing. Anyway, I dusted off my bruised pride and gathered an armful of firewood and kindling. Once the fire had rendered down to a nice bed of hot coals, I placed the little pot in nice pocket where I hoped it would remain stable. I tried to move a few of the smoldering sticks around to distribute the heat more efficiently, when the end of one broke off and promptly fell into the uncovered pot. The water was now filled with ash and turned a milky gray. More sailor language. I tried to lift the pot off the coals using its handle and a stick but it promptly tipped over and dumped most of the contents onto the fire. More sailor language.

"Good Grief...this should not be that hard."...or something to that effect.

Well, the ordeal was not over. After stoking the fire back to life, I placed the partially filled pot back onto the coals. It needed more water so I tried to add some using my water bottle where it promptly slipped out of my hand dumping over half of its contents and tipping the pot over to dump most of its contents on the fire. A few more choice sailor words followed. 

Eventually, I finally did get the water filled pot, and fire together safely long enough to at least heat it sufficiently to use with my freeze dried food pouch. Now the food was excellent, but not unlike the definition of a two man tent which is really only useful as a one man tent, the food pouch said there were two meals inside the package. Not so. It is only enough to feed one hungry and frustrated camper. But, since I was the only one there...it worked out okay.

The lesson from all this was, that's not how to boil water on a campfire...and next time I will bring my single burner camper stove and a coffee pot. It's just a lot easier and a whole lot less messy. Campfires are for sitting around and relaxing. I love campfires, but have yet to master the technique of trouble free camp cookery.

Just before sunset the sky, although clear, became quite smokey and seemed filled with an opaque white haze. The sun, low in the sky now, lost much of its brightness and became almost like a glowing orange circle filtering through the haze that reflected off the near calm surface of the lake. My spirit needed to witness this display of calming warm light as my day had been somewhat frustrating at times.

The late part of the evening was spent reading and trying to relax my stiff back. As the day faded into darkness, I built up the fire using the bulk of the oak firewood I had cut hoping it would burn well into the night. The day was still relatively warm and I simply laid on the top of my sleeping bag at first. It felt good to stretch my back. About the time the first stars filtered through that evening haze, two groups of coyotes began to serenade the countryside. I love to hear them off in the distance. They have such an iconic sound as much a part of the outdoors as the sky and clean air itself. Off and on through the early hours of the evening they sang their song and the lake waters fell calm as the light breeze all but subsided into barely a breath. As more pinpoints of star lights began to appear, the trials of boiling water faded with the light.

I slept off and on through the evening, mostly off. An hour here, thirty minutes there I would drift off to be awakened with a nervous twitch. My mind and body fought with each other with my body saying you need to sleep, and my mind saying not until I've worked out all the details of what's spinning around inside of me. I spent a lot of time simply staring into the night sky with its splendid view of the constellations Sagittarius and Scorpius hovering low across the southern skyline. A nice meteor dashed across the sky leaving a long glowing trail to finally break apart near the end of its journey through the atmosphere. Fatigue finally won out and around 4:00 AM, I feel into a deep, much needed, sleep.

The next morning before the sun climbed above the ridge, I found myself struggling to rekindle the fire which had burned itself out through the night. With lessons learned from the previous day, I was much more careful about how I boiled the water for my morning coffee. Success is often bred from experience. The half pound of bacon I brought along soon found itself sizzling inside my cast iron skillet, and shortly after that, three of the eggs I brought found themselves being scrambled in a thin layer of the bacon grease. Truly, a breakfast fit for a weary traveler and a prime example of just how good something truly is when cooked over a campfire. By the time I broke camp, I almost repeated my first boofaw. Just as I was about to shove off, I realized I had left my paddle on the gravel beach. I laughed, shook my head in disbelief, retrieved the paddle, and began the last leg of my journey.

As I paddled and fished my way along, I eventually sighted an interesting sycamore tree growing out of solid rock near the end of a point. Beyond and around the bend the lake curved into a small protected cove. The morning light provided an interesting blend of warmth and clarity. The camera came out of its protective box and I managed to shoot a series of images that fit well within the Ansel Adams project.

I've considered myself somewhat of an accomplished canoe camper, backpacker, and in general a good outdoorsman. Sometimes, overconfidence has a way of humbling even the most accomplished of people. Certainly I was taught a valuable lesson, one I hope will somehow remind me over and over about how not to take things for granted. Check and double check, then check it again. Often the best memories are made in adversity. Not allowing adversity to ruin your outing comes with experience, and experience comes from facing challenges.

In spite of the snafu's, this was a good first outing of the new season. I plan on several more including multi-day adventures. With any luck at all, I'll learn how to boil water over a campfire before I take off again.