Tallgrass Prairie Part III - Listening to the Song

By mid-afternoon the day was beginning to heat up, but it still was not as oppressively hot as it can be in Oklahoma.  Those days were yet to arrive in another few weeks. On this late spring day, the temperature pushed toward the mid to upper 80’s but the sun was tempered somewhat by a layer of high thin clouds. Another two hundred yards in front of me advanced a rocky arroyo that swung in an arching loop that covered a half mile or more in length and maybe another two hundred yards wide at its widest. Across its flanks acres of prairie flowers bloomed adding splashes of red, blue, white, and yellow that blended with the prevailing greenness of the tall grasses.  It was not yet peak season for the grass and the fields and rolling hills were yet to achieve their maximum effort of growth. Underfoot, the rocky flint like chert  crunched with each step…at times catching the side of my boot twisting the foot to one side. At the base of the arroyo a small amount of water trickled and pooled in some of the slower and larger basins…mostly it was dry. I wiped some of the perspiration from my brow and walked another fifty yards to the southern edge of the draw where a set of cedar trees were growing. Their shade offered a fresh respite from the warmth of the afternoon and the constant Oklahoma prairie wind provided some cooling relief.

I had discovered this arroyo a year or two before and now it had become one of my must see hiking places when I am on site. For the most part, I simply sat in that small patch of cedar tree shade and simply listened to the sounds of the prairie. Keeping time with the wind prairie birds cast their chorus and insects added their fluttering drum. The grass swayed and the cedar trees hummed with each beat of the breeze. The spontaneous rhythm of the prairie song continued unabated with a new chorus…new rhythm…new words with each passing moment. With my camera pack propped behind me, I leaned back and closed my eyes...still weary from the early rise that morning…and the prairie song fill my soul.

Exploring the tallgrass prairie requires more than simply driving through and stopping at a scenic overlook. It requires a willingness to step into it…experience it up close…to feel it underfoot…to hear its song….to listen to its words. When allowed to speak to you such as this… you then begin to see what the prairie has to offer photographically.  For now it becomes less of a visual capture…and more of a spiritual understanding that leads to the capturing of its flavor, strength, serenity, and power. It’s less about what to look for and more about listening to what it says to you…for it will reveal itself to you and each revelation is different for each person.  The idea then becomes not to simply photograph a few visual reference points…but to capture your revelation in such a way that others who see your work understand why it was important for you. What’s important is not what you capture…but how you capture it.

I spent most of the afternoon exploring that arroyo until the sun began to lower toward the horizon. I stopped for a while and watched it settle before making the hike out before darkness settled in completely. In hiking the prairie this way, I’ve been able to discover intimate locations that only the wild bison and prairie birds know about. I think of parts of it as my person place…a place where I can release the stresses of life and discover a renewed mind…a place where what once was…still is.

The TGP - Part II - The Prairie's Song

A soft voice seemed to rise from the fragrant prairie carried across the sea of grass that pitched and danced on the Oklahoma wind...a voice that cast its song for all to hear, "Listen...as I speak of times past..." it whispered..."Come..and see...share my story..."

 I stood atop a grassy knoll a few hundred yards from the gravel road that undulates through the preserve. It was late May 1996, and the oppressive Oklahoma summer heat had not yet arrived.  Even so, it was warm enough. In all directions from that vantage point all I could see were fields of grass ranging across the southern edge of the Flint Hills Region...only a scattering of trees...not a man made object. A few hundred bison were meandering across the flanks of an adjacent hill a few hundred yards away...their guttural bellows keeping time with the prairie's song.

For a moment it was as though time had rolled in reverse and I had been transported to another place in another world...a time before even my ancestors first moved to Indian Territory..a time when bison roamed free and wild by the millions and the tallgrass prairie stretched unbroken from Canada to the Texas Gulf Coast.

Below me, acres of pale purple coneflowers sprouted out of the earth adding their color and fragrance to the warm earth-scented aroma that presented its greeting to travelers crossing its boundaries.  To the north a field of blackeyed susans exploded in a menagerie of yellow that contrasted with the prevalent green shades.  Powder like summer clouds drifted overhead in a cobalt blue sky casting shadows that created a broken atmosphere that helped cool the landscape. Prairie insects swarmed here and about...landing on long stems of tall grasses that swayed in the breeze...then off again to another. Birds...the dickcissel, a scissortail, meadow larks, a buzzard or two...added their movement and flight to the choreography of the prairie song.

For a stretched moment I rested on the edge time atop that grassy knoll and allowed the prairie song to fill my over-stressed senses with its soothing flavor. The stiff breeze seemed to gather around me and lift off my shoulders a heaviness that pressed against my life. I felt at home. I felt at peace.

My first encounter with the tallgrass prairie preserve was by far the one that carried the most impact. Growing up in Oklahoma, my appreciation of the prairie was tempered by an attitude that it was simply a big field full of weeds. No longer would that attitude prevail. Never again would my sight be blinded by inexcusable ignorance about the significance of what the prairie has to offer.

As I sat on that isolated knoll and watched as one of those legendary prairie sunsets developed, I knew that I surely must return again...someday...to capture photographically the emotions and feelings this single day of discovery afforded. Even though I did return several times after that, my first true photographic attempt was to wait the better part of a decade before it materialized, but since then, I've made numerous trips to and hiked deep across this landscape searching for those elusive moment that define what I discovered and experienced on that first day.

I have hiked across parts of the Rocky Mountains, a small portion of the Appalachian Trail, forded freezing trout streams, walked along ancient and rustic beaches, explored the rolling hills of the Ozarks, and canoed rivers still wild and free. I have photographed the amazing skies of Kentucky and fell witness to parts of creation only observed up close. To those endeavors, they all pale in comparison to the revelation discovered while sitting atop that grassy knoll in the heart of Oklahoma's tallgrass prairie. I suppose the reason why is because it was so unexpected. I was caught off guard by the power of the prairie song...a song that still calls to me each day.  It is a song that speaks of times past and the discouraging loss of a once magnificent landscape. It is a song that to all that hear it, not all...listen.

Keith

On ConeFlower Hill...Part 1

Everything changed that first day close to 20 years ago now...my view of nature...my sense of place...my understanding of what beauty was...my desire to not just visit, but to experience and capture photographically, up close one of the most amazing landscapes I've ever seen. I've written about that experience to some degree on this blog, and shared numerous images and a few video programs about the location, yet, as I think back on all that, I realize those few words only touched the surface of the emotions I discovered during that time. My desire now is to write a more in depth series of stories about those experiences and share with anyone who cares to read why that day...and the many more that followed...carried such a significant impact for me. It became a calling...a must do moment...to capture the full spectrum of how the tallgrass prairie saga changed not just my personal understanding of that sea of grass, but my understanding of why those kinds of moments are important to my life as an individual, a photographer, and my identity.  Join me from the view "On ConeFlower Hill"...a series about Oklahoma's Tallgrass Prairie.  

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Original range of the Tallgrass Prairie

Part 1

One can only imagine...today...what it must have been like during those first migrations west in the early 1800's. Millions upon millions of bison ranging across the plains, sometimes taking days to pass...an ocean of grass that appeared to roll toward a never ending tomorrow with a diversity of life surpassed but rarely upon this planet. That sea of grass was looked upon as a barrier...a formidable obstacle that barred progress forward. It changed its complexion the further west one traveled. First encounters were against a massive area of Tallgrass that stood higher than a man and spread its wings across the heart and breath of America...a bit further west as the climate changed, that tall grass area merged through a blending of Mixed Grass regions  with the Short Grass prairie's that butted against the base of the Rocky Mountains.

It was the tallgrass area that caught the eye of farmers.  It's rich soil and consistent rains offered a tremendous bounty for anyone tough enough to dig it up and plant a crop. Beginning in 1840, as America started it's westward expansion, that limitless area of tallgrass prairie proved too tempting and as the population expanded, more agriculture was required to feed it. By 1890, in less than a single life span, almost all of it was gone having been plowed up, fenced off, replanted, and converted into fields of corn and wheat.

The plains Indian populations were all but subdued, the millions of free ranging bison had been reduced to a mere few dozen isolated survivors, and the diversity of the tallgrass prairie was destroyed.

The tallgrass prairie required three ingredients to survive: 1. A Climate with hot summers, cold winters, and adequate rainfall;  2. Bison herds that trampled and disturbed the soil that provided aeration and their tons of natural fertilizer that help to enrich the soil; 3. Fire which at times would burn for days and clear off wide areas of range land where new growth would sprout; Fire also prevented the encroachment of wooded plants.

As our westward expansion moved into this area, the bison were killed off and fire was suppressed.  As a result, the tallgrass prairie began to die.  Coupled with converting large areas into agricultural use, what once was perhaps the largest single ecosystem in North America was driven almost into extinction. What once covered over 400,000 square miles...between 140 and 240 million acres...was now just a collection of scattered remnant patches.

To help you understand this...imagine the state of Iowa which covers almost 26 million acres...almost all of it originally covered in tallgrass prairie. If that area of tallgrass were shown as a 1000 piece puzzle...today, only one piece would still exist, and not as a single unit, but broken into multiple, unconnected, smaller pieces...that is the extent of the destruction of the tallgrass prairie.  This kind of loss is characteristic of what happened across the entire range of this once amazing landscape.

By the early 1900's conservationist began to shout their alarm over this destruction...it was almost too late...but because of their efforts restoration projects began to rebuild at least part of what once was. A few areas of original tallgrass remained having been protected primarily because it was either too rocky or rough to plow, or they were privately owned. Although there are several remnant preserves scattered across the original tallgrass region, the only location where horizon to horizon vista's of this kind of landscape can be found is in the Flint Hill's region of southeastern Kansas and northern Oklahoma.  The largest protected area of original tallgrass prairie that exists today is the 38,000 acre Tallgrass Prairie Preserve near Pawhuska, Oklahoma.

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What's Around the Bend

A photograph is a visual story. It has a theme, a plot, dialog, a beginning, a middle, and an end. Sometimes the story is obvious, some times not so obvious, and sometimes the photo is constructed in such a way as to allow the viewer the ability to make their own story. Photo's that use that technique are often some of the most engaging because they pull not only the viewers visual gaze into it, but their emotional desire to find the story. One way to build that kind of photograph is to use the theme...'What's Around the Bend'.

What's around the bend ideas in an image most often use some kind of visual trail that leads the eye into the center of the image and that trail will usually disappear somewhere in the distance. Roads, creeks, trails, tree lines, fence rows are some of the more common elements used as that visual trail. It's important that the trail lead into the image and not out of it...although sometimes leading out of the image can work, it usually works better the other way. Other ways include using such things as the neat rows of a plowed field, or clouds, or even shadows and rolling or receding hills.

I find myself looking for those kinds story lines in photographs quite often and when I discover an opportunity that looks right, I then try to flesh out the story by adding other nuances. Sometimes that requires waiting for the light to change or the conditions or even the season's to change. It's the nuances that add flavor, character, and substance to the story. Without those, well very few around the bend story lines could stand on their own merits.

Here's some examples.  I love windmills...I guess growing up in Oklahoma is what developed that sense of story so whenever I see a windmill, I always take a second and third look to see if there is a story there. This image is a location just a few miles down the road from where I live and I drive by it almost everyday, and almost everyday I take time to see what flavor the story is taking on.

On the morning this photo was taken, there was a light fog that drifted across the farms and fields in the area. I walked a short distance down the old road and lined up this shot being careful to include enough of the road and fence row to lead the eye into the story. You can see the windmill on the right side...kind of hard to see it in such a small version of the image.

One winter's day I came across this next location while out looking for Sandhill Cranes.  The road was slick and there was a good layer of snow covering the landscape. The road curved around and dropped out of sight over the hill and to me at the time it looked like one of those Currier and Ives scenes. I loved the way the road seemed to beacon the viewers eye to follow it around the bend to see what was on the other side and how the fence row carried the view to the turn in the bend just on the edge of the image..

The next image is a favorite of mine as it sings a back road melody like few images do.  It carries in its design that sense of country, that feeling of home is just around the bend, that emotional bond to a familiar place. It says to me, 'welcome home...I've been waiting for you'. It may be one of the best examples of the what's around bend theme I've ever taken.

What's around the bend...it's a great theme for a photographic story line. Take time to look for those opportunities...but not just simply curved roads or fence rows...think about how to flesh out that story...what would your location look like in a different season...on a rainy day...foggy day...early or late light...with shadows. That's how you take the basic theme and turn it into a great story.

Keith

A Different Perspective

I love fall...with its cooler temps...blustery winds...and all the colors. In Kentucky it seems like the fall colors are slow to start and slower to develop, then all of a sudden they explode across the landscape overnight. It's also one of my favorite times of the year to photograph.  Oddly enough, even though the fall is full of color, those colors can often take on a completely different look when observed from a different perspective...Black and White.

The bright reds and yellow will take on a brilliant silvery hue when converted to black and white.  Add a little tone to the image to shift it toward a more brown or slightly yellowed appearance and the image will often take on a magical look.

Many times I will take a photograph simply because I believe it will look great in black and white.  Black and white offers a more pure blend of contrasts...removing all the distractions caused by colors. This blend of contrasts floods the viewer with a sense of shape, form, texture, purpose, strength, and power.

Here's an example of what I'm writing about.  The image below was taken just a few days ago as the fall colors along Trammel Creek reached their peak. It was late afternoon on an overcast day and the surrounding bluffs and recessed nature of the creek protected the surface from any wind that would cause ripples that might distort the reflections. It's a nice, typical fall image.

The next image is the same image converted to black and white. What I like about this one is the graphic nature of the tones and contrasts...yet it retains a splendid natural feel to it...almost mystical as though it materialized from a fanciful story line.

I've heard it said that if an image works in black and white...it will also work in color. Where color photography is an attempt to capture things from a normal 'as things are' appearance...black and white requires a stronger sense of graphic design...a sense of portraying something natural in an unnatural way, yet retain that sense of its purposeful design. It takes a different perspective...a unique way of looking at a scene to be able to capture it in black and white.  Learning to see in black and white will improve your overall photographic seeing.

Try seeing in black in white sometime when out photographing.  Look for those opportunities when shape and form become the main emphasis of your composition...things that enhance the graphic designs found in nature.

Keith

It Ain't About What You See...It's About What You Feel....so...don't settle for Average

The main difference between Ansel Adams...and most of us...is that he looked at photography from an artistic perspective...he experimented...tried different techniques...he never settled for ordinary...and he understood the capabilities of his camera equipment.

Camera's really are not all that smart. In spite of the sophisticated electronics and the built in auto exposure capabilities, they still only read the light in such a way as to make a best guess calculation and move the exposure to the middle of the scale. If all you are wanting to accomplish is to take snapshots and capture simple pictures with very little artistic merit, then the auto exposure works pretty well.  It's been a great marketing ploy for the camera manufacturers...making it easy to take decent photo's without thinking to hard.

But, when it comes to capturing images with artistic merit...well...now that requires a bit more...let's say... understanding of what the camera is actually doing. I don't have room here to go into a long explanation of all the functions of digital camera's. But, what I'm going to do is give you an example of the difference between what happens when you simply allow the camera to do what it wants to do...and you telling the camera to do what you want it to do.

Most of my photography involves nature and/or landscape photography. As a result, I tend to shoot almost exclusively in Aperture Priority...that is where you select the aperture or f/stop and the camera selects a corresponding shutter speed. Aperture priority allows me to control the depth-of-field which is important in landscape photography. I also use a lot of exposure compensation...you know...that little +/- button usually on the back or maybe the top of your camera...anyway...I rarely shoot in full manual mode.

Another aspect of digital cameras is how white balance affects the image, or how well the camera captures color depending on the temperature of the light. (Indoor lighting has a different temperature range than daytime outdoor light). Most digital camera's allow you to change the white balance, but I would guess most people simply use the auto white balance (AWB) setting and just let the camera make that choice for them. White balance can also be adjusted by using the group or symbol settings...like shade, or cloudy, or portrait...these actually help quite a bit and are easy to use.

AWB works pretty well within a set range of light temperatures.  If the light on your subject falls outside that range, then AWB will often shift the color either toward the blueish or reddish side depending on the light temperature situation. Knowing and using this to your advantage can have a huge impact on how your images turn out.

Here's an example.  This first image above was taken simply allowing the camera to do what it wanted to do. It's not a terrible picture...but right away you may notice that it seems to have a rather bluish tint to it.  That's because the light temperature at the time fell well outside the normal range of the AWB capabilities. What I was experiencing visually and emotionally was a deeper, richer lighting situation...So, how then did I manage to capture the next image taken just a few minutes later?

Both images come straight out of the camera...no Photoshop tweaking was done to either of them. The bottom image is a much more powerful image...richer...deeper...more dramatic in its texture and overall effect.  Well, basically there is only one camera setting difference between the two images. Instead of using AWB, or either of the Shade or Cloudy setting on the camera...I switched over to manual White Balance and shifted the setting from it's normal middle of the road 5500 degrees kelvin to 9900 degrees kelvin. That simple shift told the camera to push the color setting from a middle temperature range to a range that more closely matched the color temperature of the sky at the time.  Doing so caused the camera to capture the scene in a much bolder rendition.

The reason I am explaining all this is to re-enforce the idea that photography is not always about capturing exactly what you see.  It's about capturing what you feel. Understanding how the camera reacts to light is one of the first advanced concepts that novice photographers should understand. Doing so gives you a tremendous advantage when it comes telling the camera to do what you want it to do...instead of simply accepting what the camera wants to give you.

Here's another example.  This next image is one where I basically allowed the camera to do what it wanted to do...I did use a graduated filter to darken the sky some and tweaked the brightness a bit in Photoshop, otherwise it is pretty much the way it looked coming out of the camera and represents the scene very closely to what it actually looked like.

Overall...it's not a bad image with some interesting cloud features. But, looking at it tells me one thing.  I've seen this kind of image a thousand times...I've taken this kind of image a thousand times.  Other than the unique cloud formations there really isn't anything extraordinary about this image. But, remember...photography is not about what you see...it's about what you feel. So...knowing this I wanted to capture the scene in a different way... a way that would generate more drama...more power...more depth and impact. So...I shifted my location to gain a more dramatic composition and...once again...I shifted the WB to manual...and pushed the setting from 5500 to 9900...here is the result.

Same lighting...same basic scene...Big difference.  Which one portrays more drama...which one looks ordinary? Did the scene actually look like this?...not really...but that is the way I wanted it to appear...that is what I was feeling...what I visualized the moment should be and could be.

Understanding that what the camera sees is not necessarily what you see is one of the most difficult concepts for novice photographers to grasp. Understanding this...combined with a solid working knowledge of the mechanics of your camera...can result in creating amazingly bold and powerful images even under rather ordinary circumstances.  It's also important to remember that you don't have to settle for what the camera wants to give you...in most cases what it offers is simply an average...and we as photographers should never settle for average.

Keith

A Sense of Scale

There was good flow of water ripping over the edge of the falls at Shanty Hollow that day, yet the images I made just didn't seem to capture the effect of what it felt like to be there. What was missing was that sense of scale that one gets while standing at a location in person. As I worked my way around the edge of the pool at the base of the falls, I tried to visualize just how best could I capture this moment.  Then it became apparent. To capture the grand scale of the location...I needed to get lower...way lower...and shoot upward. I knelt as low as I could without getting the seat of my pants wet...it was a bit chilly that day...and framed the shot using a 18 mm wide angle lens oriented to the vertical. I used a small aperture...f/22...and focused about half way between what was directly in front of the camera and the rock wall where the water dropped. I was careful to include a good portion of the flowing water as it rolled over the rocks at the apex of the outlet stream. The result was a photograph that for the most part captured a greater sense of the scale of the location.

Scale is one of those things we rarely think about when photographing a location. In reality it's one of the most important things to be aware of especially in certain circumstances. The idea is to use scale to provide a sense of largeness or smallness to the moment. Doing it effectively can be a challenge, but there are techniques one can use to enhance the prospects of capturing a greater sense of scale.

One technique is to include something in the foreground...middle ground...and background in the same frame. This technique adds depth and distance to your composition. Usually a wide angle lens works best for this kind of shot...but can be done even with a 50 mm normal lens. In order to keep it all in focus, a small aperture is required...something like f/22...to extend the depth of field range. This often results in a slow shutter speed which also dictates the use of a tripod.

Another technique is to shoot with a wide angle lens from a low perspective looking upwards...like what was described in the first paragraph. These low perspective angles will automatically increase the sense of scale simply by the distortion effect of having part of the scene so close to the camera lens.

Image was created using five or six vertical shots stitched
into a single shot. The result added a lot more depth and
distance to the scene

Another way I've used to improve that sense of scale is use several images stitched together. This takes a bit of practice and some savvy using Photoshop...but it is a very effective method. What I normally do is to use a wide angle lens...18 mm or smaller...and take a series of images...usually five to six that overlap by about 30%. These images tend to work best when taken in the vertical or portrait orientation. Then using the panoramic stitching feature in Photoshop...stitch them into a great image than what would be possible using a single image.

Capturing scale often requires some forethought and a willingness to think through the problem. Recognizing when the moment requires a sense of scale may very well be the most difficult part of the process. It certainly requires the photographer to purposely set out to accomplish capturing that sense of scale as compared to capturing a routine image.

Scale is a great way to draw the viewer into your images. Capturing it requires some purposeful practice.

Keith

The Importance of Background

Way too much background clutter - Too many
things competing against my main subject - Not
a good example of an effective background

She was a talented young lady performing at Bowling Green's International Festival and I found myself taking a number of photographs during her performance that year. The light was bad...but I wasn't too concerned. These were just fun shots after all, so I did not take into account many of the things I would ordinarily look for. Later, after I had downloaded the images, I came across that series and right away realized I had made some really bad photographic mistakes...the worst being not paying attention to the background. Although the photographs were not terrible, it was obvious to me that the clutter scattered across the background had all but ruined the images. Oddly enough, I've used some of those images in workshops as examples of what not to do.

Much stronger background Isolates
subject and works with the story

Not staying alert to the background is one of the prime ways to ruin your photographs. This is most readily evident with people shots, but it also applies to all kinds of photography, such as wildlife, nature, and studies of shape and form. Background is important because almost every effective image requires an effective background and every image that is successful often owes that success to the effective use of background. It is rare that the two are not connected.

An effective background works by helping to isolate your main subject...yet at the same time it provides a sense of depth and connection to the story of the image. Backgrounds do not have to be something that is recognizable. Actually, they probably work best when it is not, but they do need to blend well with the subject. What you do not want is a background that competes with your subject.

Light background enhances the darker subject

Backgrounds can relate to the subject, or they can provide a contrast. Often it is how the color is distributed across it that influences the eventual outcome of the image.  Not all backgrounds need to be blurred blobs of out of focus color, they can be crisp and solid...but they must in both cases...complement your main subject.

Receding backgrounds with angles of light often
generate a wonderful sense of place and depth

What I look for in an effective background is something that will help to isolate yet provide a sense of place for my subject. Many times simply moving to the right or left a step or so will position my subject in such a way as to take better advantage of how the light plays across the field of view. A simple change of perspective will also make better use of framing. I also like to play against contrasts...something like dark against a light background...or light against a dark background. Color use is also important, and contrasts of color will often generate a vibration that is very catchy and powerful.

Sometimes, location dictates the background. Even so, by first thinking about how to use that location to give your image a sense of place, you may find yourself moving, bending, twisting, kneeling, or even climbing higher to position your subject against a background that works to bring out the characteristics you are looking for.

As I have said many times, there is more to photography that taking pictures. So when photographing your subjects...don't just concentrate solely on the main subject...think about placing your subject within the context of the environment and use the background to enhance and bring interest and strength to your composition.

Keith

The Poetry of Morning Light

A fine experience it is to have risen early to catch the first rays light.  Even on rather ordinary mornings, that first light of the day is always fresh and inviting. For a photographer, morning light best defines what they do and why they are there…it generates not only that initial glow of the day, but it speaks to those who experience it with the soft words of a poetic verse.

When I desire great light for my photography, what first comes to mind is the morning light. I suppose of the favorite images I’ve managed to capture, the majority were influenced most by the first caress that glows low across the sky. The colors change so rapidly during those fleeting moments, as a photographer I find myself rushing here and there to line up the shot before it changes again. Often, a few seconds can make the difference…a moment of hesitation…and it’ gone. I can visit the same location over and over, and each of those mornings generates a unique light show that showcases the qualities of what is there in different ways. It’s like a brand new performance each time. Anticipating the moment is what is required…having the ability see beyond what is current and recognize what is to come…then stand ready to capture what is displayed before you...can mean the difference between making the catch or missing it.

Countless mornings have greeted me over the years…most were routine…a few stood apart because the circumstances surrounding the moment were so captivating. 

Since moving to Kentucky, I've discovered just how poetic morning light can be. The atmosphere in this part of the country can often generate amazing secondary conditions that enhances the already high quality natural morning light. What adds to the flavor of those mornings is the song that is always present...a song that is filled with natures sounds and emotions. Many times when I review images I've taken on a morning shoot, I can remember clearly the sounds and emotions of the moment.  After all, photography is all about capturing emotions...capturing the light is but one aspect of why any given opportunity becomes important enough to photograph.

As amazing as the morning light is in Kentucky, one of the most magnificent mornings I've ever experienced took place in northwest Oklahoma on a goose hunt many years ago. It was a morning when I had no camera in hand. It was a morning when the constant Oklahoma wind for a change fell calm and the normally churning surface of Canton Lake spread silent under a canopy of stars. 

As the first vestiges of light began to glow on the horizon, every shade, every value was reflected on the surface and as daylight crawled toward its climax, thousands of waterfowl of all types exploded across the sky…circling…singing…calling out to their new day. My only desire at that moment was to lean against a willow tree and watch as the water’s surface was set afire by the brilliant reds, oranges, and yellows that used the sky as a giant pallet. Across this splendid example of what is best about the outdoors, nature presented herself in all of the magnificent glory intended by its creator. 

No camera could have captured nature’s poetry that was spoken that morning...but, the images, sounds, and power of those visual verses that were performed then have stood the test of time…for all other mornings have been tested against that single poetic example.

The Fossil Rock

Growing up in Corona - circa 1960

There’s something positive that comes from growing up in small towns.small town values from the 50’s and 60’s were still focused on God, family, friends, and community…pretty much in that order. I suppose that is why the old black and white television shows from that era were so enduring as they focused on those kinds of values instead of the self indulging hop into bed with anyone values so prevalent on the airways today.

One of the most influential times I experienced was the two years my family spent in Corona, New Mexico back in 1960 and 1961. If you draw an X from the four corners of the state of New Mexico, where they intersect in the middle is just about where Corona lies. On the edge of town during that time was a sign that said…Welcome to Corona...Elevation 6,666 feet.  A little know fact about that location is that the now infamous Roswell UFO incident of the 1940's actually took place closer to Corona instead of Roswell. Roswell it turns out was the closest large town that anyone would recognize, so it was dubbed as the location of that event. No one, it seems had ever heard of Corona which is not surprising as the graduating class of 1960 stood at around twelve.

As small and isolated as it was, it was a great place for a kid. We lived in a pretty much unfettered environment, free to roam as we chose, explore where we may, and experience life around us on the outside. Winter was the greatest time of all as the amount of snow we received was far greater than anything I had ever experienced before. All the kids would gather on top of the hill where the dirt road curved and angled down to the main highway. The snow was so deep it would become packed and hard creating perfect conditions for sledding. We’d spend hours gliding down that snow packed road and the cold never seemed to bother us…we were having too much fun. It was almost like the scenes from ‘A Charlie Brown Christmas’…we’d even go around caroling to all the homes in town…and take hayrides and sing Christmas carols along the way.

It was during that time I first became aware of the importance of presidential elections as Nixon and Kennedy went at each other. It was a new world for me…politics…and even though I was unable to comprehend the magnitude of the issues of the day…I instinctively understood that something big was at stake. To a nine year old youngster, John Kennedy seemed bigger than life…Nixon seemed to be some great sage with a rather dull personality. Little did we know what would transpire in each of their lives, and ultimately our own lives, just a few years further down the road.

Behind our house rose a shallow hill…not so much a hill as it was just a higher part of the terrain. Along its upper edge could be found large exposed rocks. I would often hike up there and look for fossils or arrowheads…never found any arrowheads that I can recall, but I did discover countless fossils. One rock in particular was one I called ‘the fossil rock’ as it was chalked full of intricately detail fossils. It was maybe eight feet across and roughly the same in length and skirted the edge along the top of the rise.

I would sit on this rock for hours and run my hands across the swirls and dips and crystalline structures scattered across its face. I dreamed of dinosaurs and ancient times and wondered what all those fossils were and how they came to be on that single large rock. It was one of the first times I ever dreamed such thoughts and those adventures of the imagination still reside and influence my memories even today.

Corona High School Science Class - circa 1960

Often on a warm day, I would lie back on that rock and watch the clouds drift by and listen to the constant wind as it swirled among the scrubby trees scattered across the landscape. From history lessons at school I dreamed about the ancient peoples who lived in that area so long ago and the explorers who traveled for the first time across that sparse land in search of treasures and riches and grand adventures. For a nine year old, those adventures of the mind were as real as if I had done them myself. 

The entire school system from first grade through twelfth grade was pretty much housed in one or two connected buildings. As a result, even those of us in third grade or fourth grade knew all the high school kids. The place was so small you could not help but know everyone. Athletics was a big deal and even though that school was really small, they were able to wield a football, basketball, and track team…mostly made up of all the same kids. They were actually pretty good too…at least they won more games than they lost. Some of the high school kids became legendary to us grade school kids and we looked up to them with the admiration offered to NFL super stars. Woody Dame, Clint and J.T. Roper were three of the more athletic. I’ll never forget playing a sandlot football game in the front yard, three of us kids against Woody Dame…he played on his knees…we got to run using our legs…he still beat us…but man, was that something to experience…Woody Dame, football hero from high school, actually took the time to play a game of football with us kids.  We were in kid heaven and about as excited as we could get.

Yeah…those were the days, days of exploring our world and our place in it. It was a time that still held a sense of innocence about it, but looming on the horizon were challenges waiting for us that we could never have dreamed of at that age. I do believe it was that time of free spirit thinking that helped us through those challenges.

Somehow through the years we too often allow ourselves to lose touch with the days of our youth. It’s inevitable I suppose as we grow older as responsibility and time take their toll on our lives. Yet even today, even though I rarely see a fossil implanted in its natural state anymore, when I do, my thoughts return to those days. A hammock has replaced the fossil rock as a place to lie back and a place where the nine year old in me resurfaces. As I swing in the breeze, above me across the sky, clouds still drift as they did then, and beneath the rocks and earth of the surround hills, fossils are still there waiting for discovery. Imprinted in my mind are the memories of those carefree days when a young boy not only explored the world around him, he opened his mind and heart for the first time to the magnificent flavor of God’s creation. It’s good for the soul to do such things, not only those, but to remember why we dreamed about those adventures the way we did. It reminds us of who we are.

Our stay in that little community was short lived…but the impact of those two years influenced the rest of my life…it was an amazing influence that still resonates over fifty years later.

Keith 

Symphonic Melody...What is it and how do you use it?

I suppose the first time I really began to like orchestra music was many years ago when I was still in junior high school. I remember listening to a collection of music on the radio played by a station that took a specific piece of work or a collection of works from a single composer and played them back to back to back. The music I listened to was from the soundtrack 'Lawrence of Arabia' composed by Maurice Jarre. What captured my imagination was how all of the works from the soundtrack, although different, followed the same pattern...the same overall musical theme throughout the entire score. Never before had I grasp the significance of that technique in a musical score. Little did I realize then that one day that same concept would play a significant role in my photography. You may wonder how could musical theory from a soundtrack score have any effect on photography...glad you asked.

For lack of a better term, some years ago I coined the phrase Symphonic Melody as it relates to how all the elements in a photograph work together.  This includes the use of color...or more specifically, the effective use of a color theme in your composition. Think about the best images you've ever seen...what stood out about them? I would bet it was these two things...how everything in the image looked like it was suppose to be there, and that the image carried with it an overall color theme across the entire composition. Everything contained within the composition worked toward telling the story...but one thing that most people tend to overlook is how the color(s) in the image also work to define the story. This color theme is what defines the essence of Symphonic Melody.

It doesn't mean everything carries the same color value all the way through...although, that actually can be an effective technique...what it does mean is that all the colors work to enhance the elements within the composition. There can be a wide variety of color values...but what prevails is that the composition is defined not just by the things that are in it...but how color was used to generate that eye appeal...or that comfortable feel of completeness in the image.

Sometimes, the overall image does carry one basic color standard throughout the composition. Then what breaks it up...what stirs the senses is that one element that stands apart....that causes your focus to shift...it is what adds interest and maybe even a little shock value to the theme. It is this shock that captures the imagination. All effective photographs use this to some degree.  There has to be something there that is different from the rest of the theme, familiar yet demonstrated in such a way that what is there is not what you would normally see visually...It must also be related to the overall story, so that the interest level is raised high enough that the viewer wants to use their mind to piece together that one imperfection to make the image...well perfect.

Think about this concept the next time you are in nature and attempting to capture something unique.  By building your composition based it's Symphonic Melody...you might be surprised at just how powerful that technique can be.

Keith