Double Ditch, triple dudes, and 21,000

We reached a milestone this week when I passed the 21,000 photo mark on my newest camera. Above is photo #21,000…a shot of us “three dudes” enjoying Double Ditch at sunset. It was also a mission as we were taking a photo to use in making an anniversary card for Mommy, which she thoroughly enjoyed (along with the flowers).

My boys and I really enjoy those “three dudes” times, and being Daddy is an honorable pursuit. I’m glad that my little guys are becoming old enough to share a lot of the things I like to do, and we can give Mommy a break by going out and roaming (my favorite pastime). Their little cameras are in the truck and ready to be deployed, so between the three of us we’re always ready to get the shot.

Big boys crave big toys

Sometimes the ol’ Fisher-Price just isn’t enough. That’s what my little fellas quickly discovered last summer when taking pictures of the tailrace turmoil at Garrison Dam. While they can play games and do fun stuff on their little VTech and Fisher-Price cameras, their enthusiasm for getting the shot can only be satisfied by the resounding click of a shutter. I had to chuckle while beaming with pride as I snapped this shot of them really getting into it with one of my “big cameras.”

Starry-eyed surprise

After attending the midKnight showing of THE DARK KNIGHT RISES my friend and I meandered out west of town near the Crown Butte area to see what was going on in the sky. As I looked back toward Bismarck-Mandan I noticed a compact thunderstorm bearing down on the cities. There was a distinct band of rain falling from the amber clouds, so we decided to head for high ground and dig out the camera.

Once I was all set the lightning began. I was absolutely delighted to find such an amazing setting: the band of rain beneath the storm clouds, several bolts of brilliant lightning arcing from the ground, clouds aloft lit by cloud-to-cloud lightning, starry sky above the storm, and a celestial alignment of Venus, Jupiter, and the Pleiades ahead of its advance. That’s a packed photo!

What a blessing to have such a great vantage point for this storm. Despite going an hour early to the movie, we still had to sit in the absolute front row (albeit in the center). That wasn’t really bad seating, but certainly not optimal. Our view of this storm, however, couldn’t be finer.

It’s a good thing I took Friday off from work, because this storm was worth watching (and photographing) until after four in the morning. Some shots turned out better than others, but this one is pretty close to perfect. I’m so thankful we went out that night, and we had no idea we’d be treated to such an amazing spectacle.

Humidity, thou art mine adversary

So there I was, north of Bismarck. I’d left the comfort of my climate-controlled home, with its nice cool temperature and low humidity. I’d arrived and scoped out a really cool sunset irrigation photo. The blast of water was going to intersect the golden, setting sun. The tree line in the background was tall enough to be interesting, not tall enough to interfere. My tripod was in place and I dug out my camera…and that’s when it happened.

The nice, cool camera, having been chilled to perfection in my home, now met the hot, moist air. You can see what happened after that: it fogged up. The filter, the lens elements, the mirror, the prism, the viewfinder, and (presumably) the sensor. I took one shot last night, and this was it.

This has happened to me twice before…once at sunset, and once at last year’s Buggies & Blues. Third time’s the charm, I hope, and that I will have learned to let my camera gear acclimatize to the outside temperature before attempting to use it. Don’t be like me and lose a great shot due to a lack of foresight! Make sure your camera is matched to the conditions before you get ready to click that shutter. Have a good weekend!

My two new favorite windmill photos

On Saturday evening I went out on a spur-of-the-moment photo jaunt just before sunset, with a particular target of opportunity in mind. I wasn’t the only one; as I bolted down a familiar stretch of gravel road I passed a couple camped out in a blind waiting for some critters to pass by. Just as I reached the windmill above I silently lamented the fact that I’d pretty much missed the sunset. Experience has taught me that sunlight does some pretty cool things just as the sun traverses the horizon, so I kept shooting anyway.

I’m sure glad I did. The photo above, which I’d dismissed at the time due to the waning sun and lack of available preparation time, is actually the first one I snapped and pretty much my favorite. The colors and detail I drew from this shot were a pleasant surprise once I got home and fired up the computer. There’s plenty more, too.

This shot is looking the other way just a few minutes later, while the sun is still giving a pink and purple cast to the sky in its wake. I used an off-camera flash to take advantage of the reflective blades of the windmill while using a slow exposure to soak up the remaining light. The way this shot turned out was another very pleasant surprise.

There have been times where I’ve rolled up to a location and given in to frustration because the conditions weren’t what I wanted or expected. This is a great example of why a person should always continue clicking away on that shutter, because there’s a good chance some unexpected photos like this may result. Kind of like the phrase, “you go to war with the army you’ve got,” you’ve got to shoot in the conditions you’re given. Do what you’ve trained to do, and come home to discover what you may not have seen through the viewfinder at the time.

Lightning crashes…and curiosity pays off yet again


A wonderful fact to reflect upon, that every human creature is constituted to be that profound secret and mystery to every other. A solemn consideration, when I enter a great city by night, that every one of those darkly clustered houses encloses its own secret; that every room in every one of them encloses its own secret; that every beating heart in the hundreds of thousands of breasts there is, in some of its imaginings, a secret to the heart nearest it! –Charles Dickens

As I sat in the chair reading Dickens this evening I was reminded of a conversation with a friend earlier in the week. He remarked that I’m one of the most curious people he’s met, and that it was meant as a compliment. It’s true, I’m notoriously curious…and that’s one major reason I started this Blog way back when. That’s why the passage quoted above struck a chord within me as I read it tonight.

As a boy growing up in the Rocky Mountains (if at all) I remember looking out over the city below one night and realizing exactly what Dickens describes; each light in the city represents a home, full of people, doing whatever they’re doing, feeling whatever they’re feeling, and so on. It was an epiphany upon which I dwelled some time ago as I stood atop U-Mary hill with my camera, taking a wide-angle photo of Bismarck-Mandan. In fond remembrance I decided to take another such photo tonight.

As I reached the top of the hill I realized that a storm was approaching. I’ve taken almost 80,000 photos in my lifetime, but never really chased lightning; however, in this case it was a target of opportunity. As luck would have it, I was in the right place at the right time as a few giant lightning bolts danced across the frame. I may have to try this more often!

(Yes, the post title is a hat tip to the song title by the band Live)

Lesson learned on vacation

While on family vacation at Cross Ranch this weekend, I took a little time to attend a photo seminar and to strike out along the shoreline of the Missouri River for a little while with my camera. I consider any photo trip to be a success if I come back with even one interesting photo. In this case, I spotted the fisherman above.

For me, photography is a storytelling tool. I thought it very interesting that this guy had utilized the very shallow water over a sandbar to set up shop, complete with a chair and a pair of rodholders, to enjoy a little fishing. While in the middle of the Big Muddy, and technically still in the water, he’d used the sandbar to find a nice parking spot out in the middle of it all. But there was more to the story:

I didn’t even notice this until looking at the photos back at home, but he’s watching a gaggle of geese going ashore on the far side of the river. Things like this made it interesting to pore through my collection of various shots in this setting. While this was the only interesting thing I saw on my photo walk, I was able to explore different aspects of my shots as I cropped in for more detail.

Back to the storytelling aspect of my photo walk…I wanted to show that this fisherman is actually out in the middle of the river, so I employed a trick from the photo seminar I attended at the Cross Ranch Visitors’ Center: use telephoto to compress more distance within the frame. I was already shooting this setting with my 300mm lens, so by backing off a little bit I was able to include a lot of river in the foreground and show that this scene really does take place out in the middle of the Big Muddy. I like the black and white treatment because I think it conveys the simplicity of just sitting out in the water with a tiny boat, a lawn chair, and a couple of fishing rods while the world goes by.

When I went back to camp with my camera, I thought I’d made the bare minimum of one interesting photo. What I found was, although I only shot one setting, I had captured details which only made themselves apparent later when I had the opportunity to look at them full-size. Although I didn’t realize it at the time, my photo trip had been far more successful than I could have known simply looking through the viewfinder.

Compression

30 second photo technique: by keeping my distance from the east blockhouse at Fort Lincoln I was able to “compress” my shot in order to get it in perspective with a couple of other local landmarks: the state capitol and the Cathedral tower.

How is this most useful? When doing things like this: putting the capitol directly in front of the sun. Twice a year the sun sets directly behind the capitol, and in order to get this perspective I had to drive out nearly to Lincoln to capture it with a 300mm telephoto lens.

Once again, with our most prominent local landmark as the foreground object, I found just the right spot – a friend’s yard on a hill in east Bismarck – to line the two objects up correctly. The capitol is very tricky to photograph in this way, because there are few places from which to get both high enough and far enough to accomplish the desired perspective.

The theory here is that I can’t make the object in the background bigger by traveling significantly closer to it, but I can certainly make the foreground object smaller by traveling away from it. After that it’s a matter of having a long enough telephoto lens to get a decent photo of the arrangement. Try it once…it’s fun!

Right place, right time

My friend Ken and I were out bouncing my truck around the back roads and trails in search of a couple of old farmsteads to explore with our cameras. As usual, many other opportunities presented themselves along the way. Case in point: this lovely vista along a section line road just after sunrise.

There’s so much color in the sky around sunrise and sunset, adding a special touch to an otherwise unremarkable scene. Everything takes on such a unique vibrance during that Golden Hour light, and it’s great when that happens with something photogenic nearby…and a great friend to share the experience.

Just playin’

In February I posted this photo of some old bridge pilings sticking out of the ice southwest of Mandan. I liked the lines of the sky and progression of the height of the wood protruding from the ice, as well as the color. This was shot as part of a monthly photo contest themed “shadows.” Shortly thereafter I decided to play around and came up with a couple of alternate versions.

First, I thought I could better illustrate the shadows by converting to black and white. That made the sky look empty between the horizon and clouds so, in an effort to focus the eye more on the shadows of those wooden pilings, I decided to crop it to landscape proportions. It also allowed me to capitalize on the apparent emptiness of the distant sky.

Then, to illustrate the cold of the ice a little more, I put a 12% blue overlay on it. I almost think that I was a bit too heavy-handed with the blue, since I’m going for a subtle effect, but here it is. While I maintain the bleak black and white look of the photo overall, I think it helps make the ice look even cooler than its surroundings. If not, it still allows the ice to stand apart from the rest of the photo.

Photography doesn’t end once the shutter is clicked, or even once the photos are processed. Any photo can be revisited and cropped, processed, colored, or even manipulated in countless ways. That’s part of the appeal for me. While I save the “manipulation” part for a select few photos, it is occasionally fun…as long as it’s used stylistically and not deceptively. Photoshop is easily as fun as photography itself.