My Favorite Images of 2013 (or 13 images for 2013)

Just like everyone else, when the end of the year draws near I look back at the previous 12 months and the adventures I had. Reminiscing is a way to see how far we've come and the accomplishments we made. It also helps us look forward and make plans for the upcoming year.

Looking back at the previous year, I saw a good times with good friends. A new venture start up and a new technique to play with. In all, it was a pretty good year and I look forward to the next year.

There were so many great adventures and images that went with them, I found it hard to narrow down to these 12. More often than not, it's the story behind the image that makes it a favorite of mine.

1. Radiator - My business venture begins! I took clients out on the 1st Trail Turtles Adventure to Opal Creek in Oregon to teach them the fundamentals of photography. Opal Creek is a remarkable area with old pieces of equipment lined along the trail to some beautiful waterfalls. We were working on depth of field with this radiator.

2. Starfish - I hiked out for a weekend of sleeping under the stars on the Washington Coast with a friend. I got up early the following morning to catch sunrise reflected over the Pacific Ocean and as I meandered along the tide pools, I was able to get close to several sea stars. I love the curves of this guy's arm over the rocks.

3. Sunburst over Big Four - Mid-Winter snowshoe with good friends, what more can be said?

4. Iridescence - I led a photo outing to the Butterfly Pavilion at the Seattle Center during the dreary days of a Seattle winter. I used a diopter filter to get really close to the wings of the butterflies. I just love the sparkling blue.

5. Cherries and the Capitol - For a couple of days every April the cherry blossoms turn the gardens around Washington's Capitol building a light and cheery pink. I went to the sundail on the south side of the building and lined it up with the entryway for this image. This is 3 exposures blended together and a lot of patience as people walked back & forth.

6. Roasting Hotdogs - Each summer, I lead hikes for the Conditioning Hiking Series from the Mountaineers. And every summer we have a campout filled with hikes, laughter and food. Fond memories for the making.

7. Mt Adams over Snowgrass Flats - When people ask why I enjoy backpacking so much, I have a few stories to tell and images such as this to show. By the way, my tent is the cream colored one on the left.

8. Cradling Rose - Of all the images I came back with from my vacation in California, I love this one. I have started working on garden photography more and more this past year. I think it's my mom in me. The cradling aspect of this rose is comforting to me and exciting, as if there is a world to be discovered in its embrace.

9. Kayaker in the Mist - Sometimes the celebrations in life aren't your own, but for those in your life who you love. My sister bought her first kayak this year, the girl who kicked and screamed when you tried getting her into open water, so afraid of it she was. She discovered kayaking and fell in love with the sport - I love the symbolism of her kayaking out of the mists of fear into a world of opportunity.

10. The Pink Room - I think there is a little bit of me left in Montana. I love exploring the towns and countryside and cry everytime I leave.This was taken in an old building in West Glacier, an abandoned apartment above the train depot. It's simple yet to me speaks volumes of the people who braved the west. 

11. Reflections - What's a year without some abstract fun? This is the Seattle Great Wheel reflected in the waters of Elliott Bay.

12. Dungeness Lighthouse - This year I learned about blending textures. This just so happens to be one of my first.

13. Penderoy - I love this little town in Montana. Since my introduction, I try to plan a trip here each visit to the area. I went out for sunrise this past summer and played on the open prairie as the sun colored the morning clouds.

So these were my favorites this past year, which were yours?

The Road before You

It snowed recently in the Seattle area. When it did, I got up early and went for a walk with my new camera. Near my home is a wonderful pathway. On sunny days, it is often crowded with walkers, dogs, strollers and bicyclists. Today there were very few people out in the snow and chill.

As I walked, I stopped and photographed simple scenes of winter. And felt pretty special walking out in the snow with hardly anyone else around. A few tracks in the snow revealed that I was not the 1st to pass this way, plus a bicyclist had ridden along the trail at some point in the morning. What a hearty soul they were.

I took my time. I had nowhere to go except forward. So I kept going.

Then I looked down and realized the snow was unmarred by footprints. I would be the 1st to tread here. I would be walking in fresh snow. There's a thrill to walking in fresh snow - to go where no one has gone, to have this pristine world in front of you ready for your adventure.

I stopped to absorb the moment.

I would be making my own trail.

And I stopped again.

What a great metaphor.

I would be making my own trail, here as in life. I get to decide where I walk and where not to walk. Isn't that cool? As with this trail, as with my life and my photography. And yours too. You get to walk down your path and make it your own. You get to decide how to live your life. You get to choose what your photography will be.

No one can live your life for you, nor can they tell you how to live it. Neither can they tell you which direction to take your photography. You get to do that.

There is only 1 right path and that is for you to decide. It's often scary, we'd love to follow in someone else's footsteps to know we are going in the right direction. But ultimately the right direction is for us to choose.

Detours are ok, too. You can join and follow others along the way. Others will follow you. Ultimately, you will know how these events and experiences were beneficial to you and others. But again, that is for you to decide.

It's all about you.

Are you ready to walk into the fresh snow?

Break out of your Comfort Zone

Admittedly, I like my comfortable places. My big squishy chair in the corner of my living room beckons me every night when I arrive home. I curl up in my chair, wrapped in a blanket to contemplate the day's events. Whenever I've had a rough day, it is to my chair I go to relax and refresh. And then there are days I sit in my chair and never want to get up.

Photography can be kinda like that.

We all have our comfort zones in photography, the styles and subjects we work with well and could photograph blindfolded. (Not really recommended unless you want to break into art images.)

For me, it's flowers. I can "fall" into the details of a flower with my camera and let its petals wrap around me like that blanket in my chair. Flowers are my go-to subject when I don't know what else to photograph or how to treat a scene. Or when I'm just being lazy.

On the flip side, we all have those styles and subjects we feel entirely uncomfortable with. We stress over the idea of photographing in these situations and find our "niche" so as to avoid them. It's so easy to say, "Thank you for the compliment, but I'm really a nature photographer. Here let me give you the name of a friend of mine who is really good at family portraits. I think you'll be very happy with her."

But if we always take the easy road, will we ever grow as photographers?

It was with this thought in mind when a friend mentioned she should have me come over to photograph her grand-daughter. I said, "I'd love to." And then I gulped. I had only photographed one other baby. What do I do?

What if I mess up? What if I just can't get the baby to behave? What if she doesn't like the images? What if I drop the camera . . . on the baby? What if, what if, what if.

What if I stop fretting, do some research and show up at the session with a smile on my face? Aren't those better questions to ask? So I did and kept reminding myself that it will be ok. No matter what, it'll be ok.

In the end, I'd like to say everything turned out wonderfully, but the light was a little off (luckily I knew how to deal with that) and the baby fretted and fussed (mom and dad knew what to do there). At one point we put the blanket over mom and had her cradle the baby - something I thought of from some very creepy images I had seen in my internet travels.

Even though the photo session wasn't perfect, it was fun. We all had a good attitude and enjoyed the afternoon. Oh, and grandma loved the pictures.

Is it time to become uncomfortable in your photography?

Tree in Solitude

"I live in that solitude which is painful in youth, but delicious in the years of maturity." - Albert Einstein

I read this quote from Albert Einstein and almost passed it by, before scrolling the page back up to look at it again. Then I imagined this tree, hunched over the canyon rim of Dead Horse State Park in Utah.

How fitting.

I had spotted this tree years ago on a trip to the southwest. The setting was simple - nothing in the background to distract except a dark grey sky. It was a vision of solitude. As a sapling, it must have struggled and fought for every inch gained for its roots and drops of water. Wind must have buffeted the poor young tree, threatening to tear it from the cracks in the rock. Maybe, if it had  other trees surrounding, the elements would not have been so harsh. Yet the tree withstood to grow in maturity with strength and beauty.

How many times in our youth do we yearn for someone to stand with us against the elements and when we turn to look for someone to buffer us we're standing alone? The only action we can take to survive is to dig in and hang on to our vision, beliefs, and selves. And in time, we too grow into our beauty and strength. We find we can stand on our own.

Photographing Waterfalls

Someone had once told me tht waterfalls give off negative ions which gives a person feelings of comfort and happiness. As a waterfall enthusiast, I can attest to my feelings of joy when I encounter even the smallest of waterfalls along the trail. So I'm wondering how many of you also feel wonderful when near a waterfall?

But my happy doesn't leave when I leave a waterfall - it lingers with me. Do you think back on the scene with a smile on your face? Do you pull out your camera to photograph the waterfall, hoping to keep it with you just that much longer? I know I do.

Of all my subject files, "Waterfalls" has the most images in it. I have found that I dedicate a lot of time with waterfalls and I'm still working out the process. Approaching each waterfall (even if I've been there a dozen times) anew.

But I have noticed that all I really need when photographing waterfalls is 2 things - Timing and Time.

1. Timing

This can be seasonal, the day or the time of day.

Seasonal - Here in the Pacific Northwest, waterfalls can run with high volume during the spring run-off and during autumn rains. The late summer brings a lesser flow. Winter months bring snow and ice. Each season has its own charm and depending on the effect you want, time your visits for that effect.

The Day - As waterfalls take on different personalities with the seasons, they can take on personalities on different days. A bright sunny day makes a waterfall difficult with harsh highlights and dark shadows, which in turn can make the photographer a grumpy person. An overcast even rainy day smooths out the harsh light and makes for a more relaxed atmosphere for both the waterfall and the photographer. For tips on protecting your gear on the wet days go to this post.

The Time of Day - If you so happen to be out photographing waterfalls on a sunny day, try timing your visit for the early morning or late afternoon. The golden hour is great for more than just beautiful landscapes. The harsh light is reduced during these periods and images can come out glowing.

2. Time

Now all you need is some time. Be patient, wait it out, and keep working the scene.

Sometimes patience is a virtue, like waiting for a long exposure. (Have a sturdy tripod, cable or remote release, neutral density filters and camera protection). Long exposures are ideal for waterfalls to create that beautiful silky water. But it could be several seconds to several minutes to get the image. To help with longer exposures, try moving your ISO to the camera's lowest setting, close down your aperture and add a neutral density filter.

Patience is also needed when the wind is blowing which happens a lot near waterfalls. Windblown branches can create a distracting blur in your images. You might have to make a couple of images when the breeze isn't blowing much to have as little of the motion blur as possible. Also windblown mist can blow onto your lens so you'll need to wipe down the lens between images.

Finally, play with the waterfall. Zoom in to a feature - does it splash off the rocks or trickle over them? Go low and use leading lines of the rapids draw the eye up to the waterfall. Frame it with surrounding vegetation.

And now, go out an have some fun photographing waterfalls.

And the water falls up or Protecting your Gear in wet conditions

This past weekend, I went with friends to the Columbia River Gorge - a world of history, forests and waterfalls. The Gorge, as photographers call it (unlike The Gorge in Eastern Washington that is famous for summer concerts) is a must-do destination for anyone wanting to photograph all types of waterfalls. The most famous and iconic of the gorge waterfalls is Multonomah Falls. But there are other beautiful falls along both sides of the Gorge.

The waterfalls on the Oregon side have easier access, most are right along the old historic Columbia River Highway. The falls on the Washington side require a little bit more driving and hiking. But waterfalls are one of those subjects that inspire and challenge us as photographers. Sometimes that is just worth a little extra effort.

However, my friends and I stayed on the Oregon side of the Gorge, to photograph some of the more accessible waterfalls. Only problem was, our 20% chance of rain for the day turned into 100% chance. Normally, cloudy days are ideal for photographing waterfalls - the soft light helps to diminish blown-out areas in the water and softens shadows. Plus the softer light can aid in a longer shutter speed to create the silky look of waterfalls.

The problem with rainy days is keeping the mechanics of your camera dry. Waterfalls do have the added discomfort of spray. Which goes everywhere. The force of the water falling and hitting the pool below causes a wind which carries the spray onto your lens. So keeping your camera dry on just an overcast day is difficult add to it rain falling down and what you have is an inconvenient mess.

Heading out to a photo session with waterfalls requires that you come prepared to keep yourself and your camera dry. Those of us who live in the Pacific Northwest know the value of layers and a good rain coat and pants.

But what do we do with our cameras?

There are several little tricks. A rainsleeve for your camera (that you can buy at any camera store) is probably one of the best ideas I have seen for northwest weather. They cost about $6 to a whopping $50. I have also used ziplock bags and shower caps to help protect the camera body. Another ingenious idea is to clamp an umbrella to your tripod - just be careful on those long exposures, the wind can catch the umbrella and shake the tripod resulting in an unsatisfactory image. Each of these allows for the lens to have a clean view of your subject matter.

Yet with waterfalls spraying water everywhere, what do you do to protect the front of the lens? I generally carry a lens cleaning cloth to wipe down the lens between exposures then immediately cover the lens with a sandwich bag. I will take several of the same exposure and one usually comes out without too much spray on the lens which can easily be cloned out in photoshop.

You just have to be patient, release the shutter between breezes, and ready to take several images of the same exposure and compositions. And this is where your layers and rain gear will come in handy to keep you warm and dry.

Saying Good-Bye

I have always had a hard time saying good-bye.Whenever it was time for a friend to head off into a new direction I would hem & haw, not wanting the warm and comfortable to change into something new and insecure. But time moves on as do friends and what was once an imagined future of trepidation becomes filled with new friends or even old friends made remade. But the sense of loss is there as we say good-bye.

Recently, a need to say good-bye to a friend who had been battling cancer raised again that sense of loss. I had worked with Ruth for several years and would often times seek out her soft and solemn soul. Any tragedy seemed less so as she calmly talked about her life and listened to mine. She always had a warm smile, a kind word and a comforting hug. And she believed in me, more than I believed in myself. She convinced me to present talks of history and photography for the National Park Service (a dream I had since I was a young girl).

When we were told that she doesn't have much time to live, those of us who had worked with her were crushed. The park seemed a little less bright and warm and I wondered what I could do to prove that her belief in my photography and presentations was not un-warranted. But there really isn't anything more I can do than what I have already done. She helped to fortify my foundations and I will continue on from here.

In this time of Thanksgiving, as I sit in the comfort of my family, I will be thankful that Ruth touched my life as she did. That she was able to lead a good life and will leave her friends with contentment in her heart. I know she will always be a part of mine and I will see a little bit of her smile reflected in my images.

Good-bye Ruth, and Thank You.

Taking Advantage of a Beautiful Situation

It's an iconic tourist destination. It is on most people's to-do list when they come to Seattle. During the summer months as relatives visit, they are taken to walk along the Seattle Waterfront with it's restaurants, shops, harbor cruises, views of the Olympics, parks, harbors and convenience to other downtown attractions. No wonder one can get a bit claustrophobic while walking the sidewalks.

But the Seattle waterfront isn't just for tourists. It's also a fabulous place to visit for photographers - any type of photographer. Beginners and professionals can find a myriad of subjects along the waterfront from views of Elliot Bay to the people who walk along the shops.

Stay after sunset when the skies darken and the lights of the city turn brighten, you will find another reason to pull out your camera. The vibrance of Seattle in the day, sparkles at night. The reflection of neon on the ripples in the water helps to create a glittering illusion and an understanding of why this is the Emerald City.

I recently joined a group of photographers for a night-time outing to photograph the Seattle Great Wheel as the wheel gave a special light show. The light show happens during special occasions and some home games of local sports teams. Give them a call to find out when they'll be doing the next one. Even if you aren't photographing the wheel, it's a pretty sight.

So if you're planning on a trip to the waterfront for a light show below re a few tips to help you prepare and get some great images.

1. To get the cool pinwheel effect as in the image above, you will nee to use a slow shutter speed. This image had a shutter speed of 3 seconds. As there was still light in the sky and I wanted the texture in the clouds, I had to adjust my settings. ISO went to 100, f/stop 22 - I then added a neutral density filter to finally get the shutter speed slow enough to blur the lights enough for the effect.

2. Since you will be photographing at a slow shutter speed, you'll need to take precautions to steady your camera. (Although hand held can add an interesting effect, we're focusing on sharp images today.) A sturdy tripod is needed. It doesn't have to be the heaviest or most expensive, but it does need to be tall enough to rise above the fencing in the area (which isn't very tall). One that stands about 4 1/2 to 5 feet should be adequate. Also, you don't want a lot of futzing with your hands on the camera because that will also cause camera shake. Invest in a remote shutter release or cable release.

3. Once you get your camera to the settings you want, all you need to do is hold the remote shutter release or cable release and click away to your heart's content. But even in summer, Seattle nights can get chilly. So while you're photographing away, be sure you have an extra layer, hat and gloves to keep yourself warm.

Next time you're along Seattle's waterfront for the day, plan on staying until the sun has set (sunsets over the Olympics can be quite picturesque) and photograph the Seattle Great Wheel.

Have fun!

The Foggy Days of Autumn

It's been foggy in the Puget Sound area lately. And I love fog combined with autumn color. The cool moist air makes hiking in the woods pleasurable. But are there images to be made in the fog? Of course there are, lots of images.

Fog is like a giant soft box and reduces contrast you would see on a bright sunny day. Which makes a foggy day perfect for photographing images that are better on overcast days; forests, flowers, faces and waterfalls or the 4 F's.

Why does this happen? Fog acts like a giant softbox. Fog disperses light (bounces and filters) reducing hard shadows. But these qualities can also fool your light meter into under-exposing your images - over-expose as you want that bright glowing light.

This diffraction of light helps to emphasize the distance between near and far objects. The image above is an example of this. The closer tree is well defined yet as your eyes move further into the background, the trees become less distinct until they become barely visible shadows of themselves.

On an ordinary day, this scene would be a jumble of trees and shrubs, making it difficult to isolate one tree from the rest. In the fog, the shape of the foreground tree stands out. You know that this is a field of trees because of the subtle shapes behind the front tree. But the limbs do not get lost in the limbs of the other trees - they are isolated and defined.

There are no harsh shadows falling across the field. Harsh shadows combined with bright sun on a bright day would be even more difficult to capture an image of these trees. Your light meter would either want to expose for the bright areas or the dark. You can overcome this harsh environment with multiple exposures and combining the images in Photoshop. Or you can wait for a foggy day.

Photographing in the fog both challenging and fun. So the next time you wake up to a foggy day, grab your camera and have some fun.

Hometown Tourism

Do you know all the "secret" spots of your favorite destination? Do you know the best place to get sunrise? Sunset? When you should head out for the colors of spring or autumn? Where you should go on bright sunny days or dreary wet days?

But then you see an image from someplace in your own backyard and you think, "where is that? I thought I knew everything there is about my home. But I've never seen that."

I do that a lot. There are a few place I know well. So well that I am the "go to" person for my friends, friends of friends, and acquaintances.

But my own back yard? Not so much. Is it because I don't think there are images to be found in the parks and locations closer to home? 

No, not really. 

When I have a day to explore I'm heading out, away, to the far reaches. I just feel as if I've gotten something accomplished if I drive a long distance to hike and photograph.

And so I miss some great places.

I grew up along Highway 2 in Washington. A wonderful road (if you don't mind sitting in a parking lot on a Sunday afternoon as you head back home from a great weekend adventure) of trail heads, waterfalls, rivers and in the fall, colors galore. I've driven over this road so many times in my years in Washington that I should know every turnout, every destination, every sight.

But alas, I do not. I was always heading for another destination - not making the road itself a destination. 

Recently I volunteered to take a group of photographers along Highway 2 for a photo tour, only to realize I was at a loss as to where to stop for the best photo opportunities. Could we have chosen a place I know like the back of my hand?

But then, I thought - why not? It will finally give me a chance to explore an area that I keep saying I'll have to stop there someday. 

Do you ever tell yourself that? "I should stop there someday?" as you drive past a pretty turn out or sweet little park. 

I say make today that someday. Take the time, explore that little corner of your backyard. Become a tourist in your own home. You might never know what you find.

The above image was made at Deception Falls along Highway 2. A turnout (parking lot that's usually closed) that I've been saying for years - I should stop there. I finally did.

Making Visual Sense

Have you ever been presented with a scene that stops you in your tracks? Something in the scene attracted your eyes, but what was it? For after you stopped, you couldn't see what had attracted you in the 1st place.

But you knew something is there. What do you do? Do you continue on your way? Or do you investigate further?

You've undoubtedly heard this before, but I'm going to say it again - sometimes photography is a matter of patience. And this confusing scene in front of you is a perfect example.

Slow down.

Look.

Investigate.

Go back look at the scene again and start to really look at the elements. Bring your camera to your eye to help weed our any distracting elements. Take several images from different viewpoints. Go low, go high, zoom in and out. Use your feet to get closer and look at different angles. Isolate sections of the scene until you find what you like and even what might have originally stopped you.

The above scene was an expansive marsh full of grasses and shrubs that never let the eye rest. I wanted to best capture the scrambled nature of the marsh but was having trouble getting it all in. Plus the day was rather foggy and with any open landscape images the sky was blown out and boring.

I started looking at the marsh through my lens and say this bare shrub - scrambled and messy like the marsh but defined in its craziness. In one small section of the marsh, I found image that would help define the marsh.

So the next time you walk past a scrambled scene and think you see something, stop and look more closely.

Trust your instinctive eye.

There is more to Life . . .

To be honest, I've felt a little burnt out by the time August rolled around. Every weekend since April has been filled with one hike or event after another. Not just one day of the weekend but the whole weekend. My apartment was cluttered from lack of cleaning. My nerves were raw. My psyche, in need of healing.

I've had a full summer and wonder, what was in it for me?

I led hikes for gracious hikers but hardly a hike went of without some issue to frazzle my nerves and question my own decisions.

It put me in a tailspin. Did I really want to lead? If all I got was grief, why would I want to?

But wait, was all I got on the hikes I led, grief? Was there no enjoyment? Was there nothing for me? I became disheartened and left for my vacation in California with a heavy heart.

My travels took me to Point Reyes National Seashore, a place that is perfect for a person looking for a little isolation for time to reflect. Upon arriving, I stopped in at the visitor center to get a few maps and information before heading out to get the lay of the land. Fog shrouded the bluffs overlooking the ocean. I love hiking in the fog when my brain is overwhelmed by life.

My first hike took me to the most northern point of the park. I hiked out with a couple from San Francisco but soon left them behind as they photographed the elk. I found myself hiking alone in the scrubby vegetation, fog blocking the views, but I was fine as I let my brain relax.

Two days later, I started off on a different trail that a fellow visitor told me looked just like a scene from The Hobbit. The bonus of this hike, she said, was coming to the end of the trail, a cliff overlooking the Pacific Ocean. I left early enough on the hike that I startled a bobcat while it was waiting for breakfast. I hiked through thick forest arching over the trail, like a scene out of The Hobbit (she wasn't lying) and came out of the trees to a cliff overlooking the Pacific Oceans. My bonus was that I was the only one there.

I sat down and listened to the waves wash against the sands below. In. Out. I closed my eyes and let my breathing relax. In. Out. Calm.

Why is it we are calm on vacation yet when we get back we lose that calmness and every promise we make to ourselves to bring back less stress?

I came back to another hike with a complaining hiker. And although the hiker iritated me, I tried to keep that promise I made on vacation to not worry about the things I couldn't change.

What Happens during a Shutdown.

On the East Coast in Washington DC, congress is bickering over a budget which has caused a shutdown of the federal government. No appropriations? No budget. No payroll. Employees furloughed.

In the other Washington, the one on the west coast, I wonder if I will be able to go to work next week. I don't work for the federal government, but the non-profit I do work for manages the bookstores in the National Parks, Forests and other public lands in the northwest.

The parks are closed. And if the parks are closed then there are no visitors to buy books. And very little work for me to do.

I love our National Parks and public lands. It's the main reason I accepted this position and stick with it through all the troubles our organization and industry go through.

I sit reading the websites, hoping for some reconciliation between the childish antics of congress. Nothing.

I worry for my friends and co-workers who are, for a lack of a better term, unemployed. In some families both adults work for the forest or park and both have no income.

I worry for myself, a single person who barely has enough to make it through a month of bills on her savings.

And I am concerned for the gems of our land - our National Parks.

For as long as I can remember, my vacations have revolved around one National Park or another. There have been the crazy road trips where I hit up to 6 parks in one week.

My parents took me camping in the parks and the time spent exploring the forests, mountains, beaches instilled in me a wonder of the natural world I have today.

Just a few weeks ago, I led hikes to the North Cascades National Park for the Mountaineers. Today the trails we hiked are blocked. No access.

And I feel a loss.

Looking through the images from this past year, 12 times. At least once a month. And was planning a trip back to the North Cascades next weekend.

If there is no resolution, I am not the only person needing to change plans. Nor will I be the only person wondering if I will have work the following week.

How has the shutdown affected you?

It's time to pull out that camera and use it!

You're at home and it's a beautiful day out. You stare out at the bright sunny sky without a cloud to be seen. Sighing, you turn to your computer and log on to Facebook. Why bother going out to photograph on a day like this?

Well, I ask, why don't you? If you'd rather be photographing, why don't you go?

But Heidi, you say, it's just too sunny out! The light is too harsh, washing out colors. The shadows too dense. Highlights will glare into your lens. It's a lousy day for photography.

Why not use that to your advantage? Any opportunity to play with your camera gives you the opportunity to practice, practice, practice.

The light is too harsh and washes out the colors, you say. Why not look for images to convert to black and white later? Or find shady areas and focus in on the smaller things in life?

The shadows are too dense, you complain. Again, get into the shadows, adjust your exposure for the darkness and photograph close-ups or portraits. Or look specifically for graphic designs created by the harsh shadows.

Oh the highlights, you fret. Have you ever heard of a polarizing filter? The above image was photographed with a polarizing filter to bring down the highlights and the sun at my back. Or point your lens into the sun for interesting backlight on your subject.

Most people enjoy a beautiful sunny day, except photographers who end up pouting because the light isn't "right". I say, make it right - play with it. See what the light does and the shadows and the colors. You may not end up with anything frame-worthy . . . yet. But anytime to play with your camera should be a lesson and a pleasure.

So get out there and use that camera!

Cataldo Mission

On a hill overlooking the Coeur d'Alene River and valley sits the oldest building still in use in Idaho. A mission built by the Coeur d'Alene Indians after they journeyed east to find medicine men in black robes and carrying spiritual books. And the black robes, Jesuits, came. Originally it was built along the St Joe River, but the area was prone to flooding, so the Jesuits found a new home for what was named the Mission of the Sacred Heart. The mission became a place of worship and learning for the Coeur d'Alenes and later a wayside for miners and settlers.

The mission is now an Idaho state park and is listed on the National Register of Historic Places.

I had the opportunity to visit the mission on a recent road trip to Montana. I had been driving past the park for several years and thought "I should stop in and see what this is all about." But I always felt too rushed to stop, which is silly since I like to take road trips so I don't feel rushed and can stop by little wayside gems like these.

This trip though, as I drove past to get to my destination in Montana, I told myself that on the way home I will stop. And so I did.

After watching the informative video and meandering through their exhibits, I made my way in the mid-day heat to the mission and parish house on the hill. It took the Coeur d'Alene 3 years to build the mission with the materials they had on hand - not a single nail was used in the construction. The chandeliers were made from tin cans and the wallpaper was either cloth from the Hudsons Bay Company or newspapers with painted designs in blue. The blue paint was actually stain made from crushed huckleberries.

You could almost feel the love in the craftsmanship of the Coeur d'Alene - the hand hewn flooring, the cut tin, the carvings on the alter. I laid on my back admiring the colors of the ceiling, the large center panels stained in huckleberry juice. Such care for an adopted religion that, for better or worse, brought education and civilization to the frontier and beyond.

The mission and parish house are simple buildings built on on a hill that was at one time beyond the edge of civilization. Now an interstate runs past it leading cars and people to other places at high speeds.

So while on your next trip, why don't you slow down for an hour or two and visit a quiet wayside for history or nature or for peace.

Visions from a Race

Each year I head to Lolo Pass on the Idaho/Montana broder to photograph the Mountains to Meadow Half Marathon and 5k Fun Run. It's a fun event that I look forward to every year - beautiful location, fun people, and a chance to get away to do what I love for a good cause.

From the start, I saw this event as unique and spirited, celebrating the history of the area.

You see, Lolo Pass is where Lewis & Clark crossed the Bitteroot Mountains. Graves Creek meanders through the Camas fields near the pass and the adventurers camped on it's banks for a time. They were surprised by the Camas and described the flower and it's nourishing roots in their journals.

As part of the race, Corps of Discovery re-enactors come to the race to demonstrate history and to fire the pistol at the start of the race. Well, actually what they fire is a flint-lock rifle. Always a fun start.

This year to add a little more flair to the event, celebrating the 207th anniversary of Lewis & Clark crossing Lolo Pass on June 29th, the organizers brought in a Bluegrass Duo to serenade the runners as they came past.

The runners were at first surprised, others joyful as they trotted past. Our musicians completely tickled by the event.

They promised to come back.

Lone Tree

It stood on the hill.

Alone.

Bent over like an old man with arthritis.

A weather worn tree, formed into it's crooked appearance by the wind. Wind blowing hard and stiff over the years, bending the life of the tree to its will.

And the tree bent and it grew with the direction of the forces of nature until it was permanently hunched under clouds.

But do not pity the lone tree, crouching on top of the hill. This lone tree does not cower in the fierce nature of the elements. Instead, it was made by Mother Nature in this form to protect the delicate flowers at its base.

This tree, this old weathered man with arthritis is strong in purpose.

D'Oh!

We all make mistakes. And in the last couple of weeks I have been well aware that I am included in the "all" of that statement.

I know, I know. Seems impossible doesn't it that I might make a mistake . . . or two . . . or more. but I do.

In a recent post, I described my stay at the Alvord Desert as very windy. So windy, that when I turned my back to grab a filter, a gust came up and pushed the tripod over with the camera mounted to the top. Camera is ok (although it was already held together with hot pink duct tape) but the tripod, not so much. Did I mention it was my boss' tripod that I had borrowed after mine fell apart in December?

Two pieces of equipment are now held together with hot pink duct tape.

No worries. I continue on.

And I did. The above image is from the morning after the tripod incident, just before the sun rose above the clouds.

However, my learning experiences don't stop at battered equipment.

Last week I posted a link to an article by the photography forum LightStalking on my FaceBook page. The article was titled "10 Items a Photographer Should Never Leave Home Without!" Complete with and exclamation point for added emphasis.

Read the list. It's full of those no-brainers that I thought "Oh, Yeah. I always have those."

HA!

Item number 2 is spare memory cards. Well this past weekend as I was leading a hike up to the magnificent views on Mt Townsend, I noticed a red blinking light in my viewfinder. I finally looked at the blinking light and it read NO CARD.

What?!?! I thought for sure I had replaced the card. And did I have a spare? Of course not. All I could do was grumble and growl at myself and finish the hike. I was a little embarrassed, as I billed the hike as a photographer's delight. The folks who remembered their cards were delighted with the trip.

All my images of that trip will have to reside in my mind. And I hope they reside there for a long time - it was a photographer's paradise.

Training all Day

Summer has finally hit the Pacific Northwest. Or at least a little pre-summer tease of warmth and sunshine. It really has been the warmest, sunniest spring I remember here in the Puget Sound area for quite some time.

Flowers are blooming.

Streams are running high from the snow melt.

And with the melting snow, trail tread becomes exposed and people hit the trails. Including me.

Yes, I have a summer planned full of hiking and photoing, nights under the stars and sunrises over alpine lakes.

But I also have something else planned.

Each year I try to do something new. Something beyond my comfort zone. Something that stirs a bit of fear in the pit of my stomach. One year it was a solo road trip to the Southwest. Another it was climbing Asgaard Pass to the enchanting Enchantment Lakes.

This year, I will be riding the fabled Seattle to Portland bike ride - 200 miles, 2 days.

So with the flowers and the melting snow, I will be out huffing and puffing on long training rides hoping my butt doesn't go numb and willing myself to make it through the jitters. I know, if I can make it to the starting line, I will make it to Portland.

After all, the apprehension is always worse.

The image is from that first solo road trip to the Southwest - a rare quite moment in Antelope Canyon.

The Grip

In a recent blog post, I spoke of iconic images. An image that defines a place or an experience.

Iconic images can also define a sport. The images of the human body pushing beyond our understanding of its limits to accomplish a desired goal. Michael Jordan stretching through the air for a slam dunk - an image so iconic the silhouette is on every advertisement for the athletic shoes that bear his name. You can see it in your mind right now.

I wasn't out to find an iconic image when I started hiking around Smith Rock State Park, the rock climber's mecca in central Oregon.

I've been fascinated with rock climbers for years.

I'll often fantasize that I am climbing rocks and boulders along these sleek, toned and tanned specimens of humanity. Then I look in the mirror, try a push up or two and then pick up my camera and trekking poles again. it's good to fantasize.

I figured I would try at least to make a few images of rock climbers.

One problem with photographing rock climbing when you're not a rock climber is that you are often stationary on the ground and behind and below the climbers. You capture a lot of back and butts. But once in a while you get lucky and find a side view of a climber or a profile as they search for their next hold.

And that's what I was photographing, backs and butts and the occasional profile. I was contemplating where I could move for better framing when a couple of men showed up, helmet-less with t-shirts and cargo shorts. With efficiency, they dropped their gear bags, harnessed up and one started scaling the wall. I watched in admiration (honestly, they were the sleek, toned and tanned human specimens I so admire).

Climber's arm reached out for a hold. I watched as muscle and sinew stretched under his skin, tanned to match the wall he was climbing an knew. I focused only on his forearms as they guided him up the wall.

This for me is the iconic image of rock climbing - the beauty of a body in its natural element, becoming the sport to excellence in movement.

Chasing my Tent

It's windy in the Inland Northwest. That wonderful area of Washington and Oregon that is high in sunshine and low in rain. We are talking prairies plateaus, deserts, and sagebrush. The wind can whip through the landscape as if scouring the land of any ability hold forest roots and create a nice wind block. Even when trees are rooted in the soil, they sway in the wind, bending to it's will.

It was this wind that I traveled into on my recent road trip through Eastern Oregon. A wind so strong, it felt as if it might suck the moisture from the soil.

My 1st night was spent in the Columbia River Gorge. Known for it's winds that attract sail-boarders and wind surfers from around the world, I should have expected the wind swirling around the wind-breaks in the campground.

But there I was staring at the wind - looking at it as it pressed against my face as if I could stare down the gusts. I was trying to put up my tent. I sighed and started the task, in the wrong order - stake down first THEN put in the poles. I however, erected the tent 1st and then tried staking it down. I barely had the stake in the ground when a gust happily snatched the tent away from me and started dribbling it like a ball across the lawn. I took off at a run to steal my tent back and played tug of war with the wind back to my tent-site to finally get it secured into the ground.

My second bout with wind came as I was driving through the Malhuer National Wildlife Refuge south of Burns, OR. The winds huffed & puffed against my car from the west. My car labored to move forward and between gusts shot forward in it's freedom. I the distance I saw a dust cloud stretching from a plowed field across the highway. I have driven through dust storms before and smoke from forest fires - I never enjoyed them as your sight is limited even farther than most fog I had grown up with in the Snohomish River Valley. I soon entered the cloud and my heart immediately began racing. "Holy SHIT!" No visibility. None. if I continued I would crash and die. If I stopped, someone would crash into me & I would die. But the wind, being fickle, lifted the dust cloud enough to keep me moving forward. My heart continued to beat fast as I raced beyond the dust cloud to my next destination . . . and more wind.

I have enjoyed images of the Alvord Desert for a couple of years and wanted to see it for myself, so my road trip of course included a stop here and hopefully I'd be able to catch star trails and a tranquil desert sunrise. What I get was wind gusts coming across Steens Mountain that jostled and shoved my car all night. I set up my camera to try & catch  the last light of day on the clouds that hung over Steens Mountain to the west. But when I turned my back to grab a filter from the car, a gust pushed the tripod with camera over into the cracked & crusted soil. Damn! My camera is already held together with pink duct tape! but the camera was fine. The tripod however, the one I borrowed from my boss, was broken. I had the pink duct tape stowed in my car and quickly tried my best to stabilize the head, but any ability for real long exposures for the rest of the trip was gone. No star trails. No cotton candy clouds in the sky. No silky waterfalls. And I had to figure out a way to apologize to my boss.

My morning project, I wanted the sun peeking over the distant hills. When I woke up, clouds screened out the horizon. But I watched as the sun rose behind the clouds and I was able to make the image above. I stood between the worst of the gusts and the camera & tripod. Even with the issues I experienced or maybe because of them I am just as happy with this image than if everything had gone according to plan.

Icons

What do you think of when you think of iconic images when you about to head of on a trip? Do you think of those images that describe the "Place?"

The view from Kerry Park on Queen Ann Hill of Seattle with the Space Needle in the foreground and Mt Rainier in the background?

Yosemite Valley with Half Dome looming at the far end?

A palm tree shading the beach on Hawaii?

How about an image that describes the experience?

Several years ago while I was on a road trip, my first in the southwest and on my own after getting married, I was driving along a highway through the mountains of Southern Utah. Snow, blown by the wind against my windshield, made me wonder why I was out here in March. It looked damned cold outside and I had several more nights in a tent before heading home. I was trying my best to look at the sights around me without becoming a traffic hazard, when I viewed this little abandoned cabin set back in the woods.

I suddenly became that traffic hazard I was trying to avoid being. I made a u-turn right in the middle of the highway (luckily it was a lonely stretch of highway).

That cabin became the meaning of my trip. If I took no other image during my drive, I would have been happy. There was a loneliness to the cabin that described what I was feeling at the time. And yet there was a protective encirclement of trees, a safety of sorts for the cabin. And I knew there was one for me too.

Since that lonely trip so long ago, I have gone through several life changes. A divorce, financial hardship and a severe bout of depression had taken their toll. Through it all though, I could get lost in my viewfinder to see the good and beautiful in the world.

It was time for another road trip.

I chose Eastern Oregon, a long time favorite destination. This time I was going to a few old faves (John Day Fossil Beds, Bend) and a few new places (Malheur National Wildlife Refuge, Smith Rock State Park). A week on the road, exploring and photo-ing. Just me and the turtle.

I looked forward to the time alone. The time to think. The ability to go where I wanted, when I wanted. Sing badly at the top of my lungs.

I turned onto this road early one morning while driving through southeast Oregon. It was straight, cutting through the prairie like a knife and seemed as if no one was there with me.

I loved the lonely, the silence. I loved the straight road leading me on, beckoning me to move forward to something new and something comfortable. The road and the image above became the icon for my trip.

The image below is the cabin I shot so many years ago in Utah.

Westport Sea Lions

Each Mother's Day weekend, my family meets at Grayland State Park for a weekend of camping, beachcombing and, in some years, clamming. Normally on these weekends, I have some amazing hike planned and cant join them. But this year was different - I purposefully left the weekend open so I could join them.

Not only would I be able to spend time with my family relaxing by the beach, I would also be able to work a little on my Washington State Parks project as many of the beaches along the southern part of the state are publicly owned. I also figured I could work on a few special photo techniques while there. It would be a good weekend even though the weather reports didn't sound promising.

I got the 1st text from my cousin sometime Friday afternoon. She had gone earlier to the campsite and stopped by the harbor town of Westport. The text read - There must be 50 sea lions on the docks right now!

Whoa! That's a lot of sea lions even for the fishing port of Westport.

Westport is a fisherman's mecca. A large protected harbor on the south arm of Greys Harbor, fisherman, both recreational and commercial, moor their boats here. Clean their fish here.

As a protected harbor, Westport also provides several nice calm haul-outs for sea lions, ie, docks. And May is the beginning of breeding season for them. So by the time I got there on Saturday, about 50 sea lions were pilled on the dock, sunning themselves, barking, fighting, sleeping. Several swam around the docks and spy hopped to watch us as we watched them.

I spent some time in the morning photographing before heading to meet the family. And then after lunch, we drove back up for more photos.

I may not classify myself as a wildlife photographer, but when presented with such easy subjects even I will pull out my long lens to play.

Progression of Sunset

You've got a grand idea - take a road trip someplace to capture sunset. You've been eyeing this place for some time thinking that this will be a great place for sunset. So after packing a picnic because it will be dinner before sunset and you plan on eating at your special place, you drive a few hours to be in position. And sure enough, it's a great place to photograph sunset as you watch a crowd gather with chairs, blankets and their own picnics to watch nature's light show.

The sun sinks to the horizon. 

You shoot a few images, playing with exposures and apertures. 

The sun begins to fade behind the horizon.

You shoot a little more.

The sun disappears. 

The crowd applauds and disperses.

What do you do? Do you pack up and go home too? Or do you stay a while longer to capture the colors of twilight.

The following images are of the same sunset taken from Rosario Head at Deception pass State Park, but in two of the images my camera was pointed directly where the sun was going down. The other two, I pointed my camera more Southwest of the sunset to capture a different light.

The sun sinks behind the horizon.

And is gone.

Looking southwest just after sunset.

And about 20 minutes after sunset.

Do you know when it is time to go home?

Playing with Textures

Every now and then I like playing with photoshop to explore my creative artistic side. I was raised with the great painters - my mother taking me to the museum to see contemporary painters. She had books throughout the house showing the techniques of the great masters. I grew up admiring the likes of Monet and Degas and wanting to paint like them. 

Once I realized I couldn't paint especially as marvelously as they could, I turned to science. But I still held onto my love of beautiful art.

When I turned to photography, it was to capture scientific discoveries, experiments and progression. I studied the technical end of photography and turned to photojournalism for a while so I could capture the here and now, the event and (hopefully) the emotion it carried.

I left photography for a while to pursue teaching but still found a way to incorporate photography into my lessons with storytelling and photojournalism. And I painted (still poorly but I tried).

For the longest time I separated photography from art. My education emphasized photography as capturing the reality of the world and painting, drawing and sculpture captured the beauty of the world inside. Through "art" and artist could create a world that he or she envisioned beyond reality.

Then came along digital image making. I was resistant. Through digital image making one could "create" a scene or image not entirely based in reality. A photographer could create a lie! And that is not what photography is about. 

Finally I was won over by digital and even began playing with my images in photoshop to help recreate the image I saw in my mind as I pressed the shutter. And sometimes, as shown in the image above, a piece of art develops on the canvas of my computer screen, not quite based in reality - two images blended together to make something more than a record of the scene but a record of an artists eye that was never that good with a paintbrush. It may never match the great masters or be an inspiration to future generations, but expressing my inner artist brings satisfaction to my heart.

How do you express your inner artist, How do you bring satisfaction to your heart?

Washington Coastal Clean-up 2013

It's a soul-sucking mud. The type of mud that grabs hold and pulls every ounce of willpower to move away from you. It pulls at you, drags you. And if you are able to free yourself from its clenches, it will still pull something from you - like a boot.

This is the trail to one of the most beautiful wilderness beaches on the Washington Coast - Shi Shi Beach. Just south of Cape Flattery, the most northwesterly point of the contiguous United States. Two miles of beach (and more at low tide), sea stacks, sea stars and quiet encircled by thickly forested hills await the traveler.

But first you must get through the mud.

To be honest, the beauty of this pristine wilderness beach far outweighs the mud. Oh wait, did I say pristine? The only real drawback to the beach and many other beaches along Washington's coast is the marine debris. Tons of it washes up on the Washington coast every year, coming from different sources mostly marine industries, and not all of it intentionally dumped.

And every year just as the tides rise and deposit the debris in the driftwood, thousands of volunteers with Washington CoastSavers come to pull it of the beaches and away from causing harm. Volunteers have pulled off crab pots, rope, footballs, tires, even a jeep buried in the sand had been pulled off the beach. The worst is plastics and styrofoam. These break down into small bits and appear to be tasty morsels to birds and fish. They gorge themselves on these tasty looking treats only to starve when they can't digest it and are unable to eat real food.

It's a tough job. But one that volunteers, year after year come to haul trash off the beach. It's a job we never tire of as we know the debris will continue to wash ashore.

Our mission: to clean the beaches, save a few animals, become a part of the solution.

As we fill our sacks and haul them off the beaches we have a satisfied heart that we did SOMETHING.

And for those of us on Shi Shi, we must return with the bags back through that mud. That soul sucking mud, that we refuse to allow to tear us down.

The above image of False-Lily-of-the-Valley and Sword Fern was taken on the forested slopes encircling Shi Shi Beach.

Looking Back

The above image is on my computer desktop at work, one of several images that rotate throughout the day. It's a happy image taken day 2 of a 6 day backpack around the Three Sisters in Oregon. As I listened to the events in Boston unfold, a sense of dread and sorrow overcoming my work space and day. 

Then this image of Trail Turtle held by 5 fun-loving guys popped on the screen. The image always makes me smile. First just for the pure joy and fun it exhibits in a good trip with friends. Second, that was one amazing trip!

I thought of the people I met along the way. Some of them living a dream by hiking the Pacific Crest Trail. Some enjoying their long-time friends. The boy scouts just trying to make it through their trip to get home to their parents. The rangers out getting ready for the incoming thunderstorm and the inevitable fires.

We were all out in the wilderness for different reasons, but inevitably touched each others' journey through the woods and through life. Stories were shared over lunch eaten on logs. Kind words spoken in passing as if hatred never existed.

So much passed this past week. But the idea that came out strongest was that as the bombs destroyed the dreams, friends, families of those in the marathon and cheering on, people ran into the fray to help. Each life will be touched by the horrors of that day, but each life will also be touched and remembered because of kindness that poured into the terror to help nullify the hatred.

In the end we will continue to run marathons and backpack around mountains because hatred only wins when we stop dreaming, living, doing.

And as Patton Oswalt said - the good will always outnumber the bad.

Staying Motivated

How do you stay motivated when you have one job to finish for a client but a personal project keeps knocking on your brain? No, really, I'm looking for insight.

Last month I photographed the wedding of a daughter of friends of mine. I usually tell people I will photograph the odd wedding but it better dang well BE odd. But these are hiking buddies of mine and fun to be around. As it turns out, so is their daughter. It was an odd wedding (the mother of the bride, bride, and maid of honor posing in their Spanx should be enough to tell you that.) The wedding was fun and I was happy with the images I made.

Then it came time to edit them - throw out the ickies, color correct, correct exposure, crop, make grandma not look so orange (someone really should talk to her about her choice of makeup).

I also did a short road trip to photograph waterfalls. Then a trip to the beach. Then a couple of trips to photograph the cherry blossoms.

All of these were fresh in my mind and I itched to sort through them and play. But I had weeding pictures to work on.

Oh wait! What a cool game on my laptop. But I had wedding pictures to work on.

Finally, a month later I handed off the finished product. And I wonder, could have I been more motivated and gotten the images to the bride & groom sooner?

So I ask you, how do you keep yourself going?

Pink Duct Tape, a Nasty Wave and Crab Legs

It was a great morning on the beach. Sunrise cast a pink glow on the horizon and the diffuse light began to softly lighten up the tidepools as the Pacific Ocean retreated from the beach. I stepped out of my tent, stretched reached back into the tent for my camera, grabbed the tripod and happily skipped to the tidepools.

Ok, maybe not skipped, but I felt like skipping. It was that kind of a morning.

I spent time photographing sea stars with water swirling around them. I had tried this the night before and thought I might have a good image or two but I wanted to keep working with the slow shutter speeds, sea foam and sea stars  With polarizer on my lens to cut down on any glare and to help lengthen my shutter speed, I went from sea star to tide pool to sea star adjusting the polarizer when needed.

Then it happened, I plopped the tripod and camera into a new position and heard a kerplunk. Looking down into the waves rushing back down the beach, I saw my polarizer dancing in the waters as it went happily out to sea.

F***! I watched in disbelief as my filter disappeared into the surf. I looked at the sea anenomes I was wanting to photograph, picked up my camera & tripod and sullenly trudged back up the beach listing in my head my equipment malfunctions over the past year - broken lens, camera held together with pink duct tape, broken tripod, broken filter, make that 2 broken filters and now a filter lost to the sea. What was wrong with me that I keep breaking my equipment?

I sat on a drift log to eat breakfast ruminating about my bad luck and thought of all the photographers the night before with their pretty cameras, tripods that weren't borrowed, fancy lenses and a supply of fresh filters. Then I looked at my poor little camera, covered in pink duct tape sitting lamely on the tripod I had borrowed from my boss, filterless lens pointed out to the sea. I suck!

The shadows from the trees behind me shortened, lighting more of the beach. I looked up the beach to the rocks and the patterns made by the armies of barnacles. Cool patterns. I need some texture images. And heck, I can still make damn nice images with my duct taped camera.

That's a minor issue - my equipment still works, I just need to work with what I got and this is what I got right now. At least my creativity didn't get swept out to sea. Now that would be a major problem.

So I grabbed the camera off the tripod and walked up the beach to see what I could see. I finally did go back to the site of the filter incident and photographed the sea anemone with crab legs sticking out of it that had originally attracted me to that spot.

The above image? That is the sea star at twilight I had made the previous night . . . with a filter.