Let Icons be Bygones

Ah. A photographer's dream. The worldly wonders bestowed for our eyes and lenses by a little park named Yosemite. I am fortunate to have Yosemite National Park a fun 3-hour drive from my home here in Northern California. I have visited this spectacular spot on Earth many, many times. During flooding waters and deadly waterfall spills, during blankets of snow and the treasured contrasts of the colors of Autumn blooms.



My most recent trip in October 2015, the water situation was quite bare as California's current historic drought has turned the faucets tightly closed. Must be a worthy trip, I thought, to witness a natural wonder known for its waterfalls during the driest year in almost a century. My creative thought train was tracking the juxtaposed vision. Waterfalls without water; however, that train found different rails.
As a casual visitor, most experience Yosemite's natural wonders via car, bus, tour, trail-hikes and camping. Tourists following brochure maps, pulling cars over at lookout spots, picnic areas, tour lodges and gift shops. And it is a wonderful experience! And indeed, I found the park wildly crowded with tourist traffic jams. ARGH! As I sat in crawling traffic towards the valley floor, I had an impulse to say screw it and go elsewhere. I decided to climb east on Tioga Pass and make it out to Mono Lake (another worldly wonder). Now this impulsivity of mine has led to many decisions and selfish conclusions that has wound up serving me with brilliant outcomes or getting shunned from opportunities laying right in front of me. It's a roll-the-dice manner of proceeding and with a little insight and luck, perhaps, some winning captures appear for me.
The upper route was nearly empty and I found the drive in itself pure splendor.

I pulled over as I noticed a small clearing.

I tiptoed a bit around and found an ideal example of the glorious colors of Autumn before me...

As I continued on, I approached several vantage points of Half Dome from the elevated Northern perspective; realizing these areas were flooded with tour busses and cars. Visitors were scrambling about seeking their snaps of Half Dome.

As I considered rambling my way to my own vantage point, it dawned on me that I was no longer interested in capturing the icon itself but more so the human experience of these visitors. Clambering, climbing, carefully seeking their chosen spot to capture Half Dome from this distance. I thought to myself, "How many pictures of this spectacle are there in existence? 

"How many does humankind need? 

"Are any of these shots going to measure up to Ansel Adams' greats?" Unlikely. Certainly none of them will match the glory of a National Geographic cover. 

"And do I need any more?" No. The varying experience that the tourists were having is what captured me.

Perhaps the most defining moment of the trip was my puppy Peanut winding up stealing the show. As a tour bus of European visitors pulled in, streams of the elderly group treaded over to the retaining wall to gaze afar at Half Dome. However, they soon spotted Peanut and lo and behold, their attention was magnetically reversed to her.

In summary, I found this experience a one of freedom and new perspective. Icons exist. They dominate. They inspire. However, witnessing the human experience of those accomplishing their goals of capturing said icons produces endless stories. As well, finding beauty in shrubs and dead trees ALONG THE PATH to your goal is what our essence lives for.

Seek out the great yet appreciate the meek. 

The Ultimate Fog Machine

Mother Nature meets Man-made....

One of the most desirable and difficult captures for a landscape photographer lies within the deeply shrouded forests of the Northern Pacific redwoods. These uniquely historic and beautiful groves of trees present original hues and textures, as well as stories of human settlers, commerce, roaring fires, rebirths, withstanding adversities while challenging photographers in several areas: light, light, light. Finding rays of light that rarely breach through the towering branches of greenery, onto the forest floor, highlighting the forest floor with ferns, moss, against the redwood grains and fibers of the bark is a challenge unto itself. Finding the true money shot is finding periods of silver fog which seep through the low areas highlighting the sun's rays that escape the forest ceiling.

This challenge stood before me one recent morning as I visited Roaring Camp Railroads, in Felton, CA. This is a historic steam train that traverses the same tracks used back when logging redwoods was the second most treasured find in early California settling after the Gold Rush era. It is a very popular attraction for school kid field trips, young and old folk as well.

The morning proved to be absent of the treasured blankets of fog, as the first departure was a bit late when the sun has warmed the Earth. After an inward sigh, I soon realized I was riding man-made's ultimate, artificial fog machine: a steam train. 

After debating the merit and essence of utilizing "fake fog" to achieve the originally desired capture, I let myself loose creatively finding the moving experience a challenge within itself - measuring and pacing the sounds of the locomotive to time the steam exhaust as the boiling chambers were released, positioning myself to and from among the open car seating positions, while looking ahead down the rails for curves, the sunlight direction, the groves of potential trees.

Letting go of that self-induced moral integrity attached to capturing a Mother Nature's essence I was free to creatively explore. The results are unique as anything, now with a story based in logging history, the power of a steam locomotive, a moving target, all leading to this conclusion:

Use what you got, and make it what you will!