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Landscape Photography

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  • I Am Relearning How To Make A Photograph

    I Am Relearning How To Make A Photograph

    “Don’t Think – Feel” — Yoda, The Empire Strikes Back

    I’ve been a landscape and nature photographer for over 15 years. There was a time when I agonized over how I needed to configure settings on my camera for a given scene. I had even taken a photography class at the community college (that was super fun, btw). I think that was an essential formative period for my photography. It helped create fluency with how exposure works and how ISO, shutter speed and aperture effect each other. I thought a lot about exposure settings, even more back then than composition.

    As time has gone on, though, more and more I found myself manipulating settings and adapting to the scene I’m trying to capture unconsciously. To be honest, this is the most I’ve thought about exposure settings and camera settings in literal years. I quoted Yoda in this section heading for a reason though. If you’re reading this, I want you to understand that while a picture that is properly exposed is important, your settings in and of themselves can, and even should be, an artistic choice. I’ve always been very interested in a mostly faithful representation of the scene in front of me. However, some of the photographers I follow have somewhat of a surrealistic bent that enthralls me whenever I study their work.

    Knocking Off The Rust

    I have not consistently done landscape and nature photography over the last 3 or so years. Expected of someone who has four young children. Family first and always. But recently I’ve had more of a chance to get back to photography. So what have I done to rebuild my skillset?

    1. Just get out there and take pictures. Repetition really helps build and maintain any skill. This more than anything has helped me.
    2. Focused on composition, almost to the exclusion of other factors. I’m a firm believer that composition can, in most situations, overcome a lack in others. Yes, lighting is often a main component to composing a shot. But the focus on finding an interesting scene and framing it in the lens is the first skill you need in landscape photography.
    3. Enjoy my time outdoors. Yes, I will just sit, ignore my camera, and enjoy the scene, the sounds, and the stillness. I try to remember the feeling. It’s often tough to enjoy being where you are when you’re trying to take a picture of it.

    What Is Limiting Me?

    I think there are limitations for everyone. We all deal with things that are more important than something that is, for most, a hobby. My photography kind of blurs the line between hobby and job as there is a bit of income that my wife and I are able to bring in from it.

    But rather than think of what are typically considered limitations, I’m trying to frame them as opportunities.

    1. Back and other physical pain and weakness. I have severe back pain stemming back decades. This has for years been a major factor in where I choose to go and how much I can do. But it’s also an opportunity. I need exercise, and in most cases I might not otherwise get it without my photography.
    2. Raising kids could definitely be limiting to photography. And for a long time, it has necessarily been the case. But now my kids are at an age when they can come with me and play in cool places and see cool things. Sometimes trying to take photos is frustrating with the little ones around, but those are also the ones I remember better.

    What Next?

    Well, there are lots of things I want photograph, especially living in such a scenic state. Lot’s of landscape photography subsets to get into. Something very popular here is storm chasing and lightening photography during the Arizona Monsoon season. As well, I haven’t spent almost any time in the Prescott or Sedona/Flagstaff areas, which I will hopefully be able to do over the next year or so.

    So, I guess what’s next is getting out there. Taking my kids to see cool stuff, and taking lots of pictures along the way.

  • In Which I Finally Need a Standing Desk

    In Which I Finally Need a Standing Desk

    Several years ago, when my wife and I bought our first house, my wife found someone locally who custom made a desk for me. It’s made out of 2×4’s, 2×6’s and some simple joinery. But it’s extremely sturdy, made to my exact specifications, and was a very reasonable price. It’s safe to say I’ll keep this desk as long as I live.

    But, with back issues that started decades ago, it has become increasingly necessary for me to be standing more and sitting less. It seems not so intuitive, but when people say that being sedentary is slowly killing you, it is very, incredibly, true. With a recent flare-up of my back issues, it was finally time to bite the bullet and find a desk that would work.

    I did find options that would let me add standing desk legs and a motor to my existing desk, but I don’t want to take apart the entire ensemble of parts (sentimental reasons), so I looked around.

    What I thought I was going to have to do was spend $800 for something that only remotely filled my needs. What I found is a weirdly (to me at least) large amount of standing desks on the market. The one you see above in the picture was only $180 after tax. It feels well designed and is plenty sturdy for my needs. To be honest, the only thing between this one and a nearly $1k desk is the slight bit of wabble of my much cheaper desk. You really have to shake and push it to make it wabble.

    There is definitely some break-in period too – for me, not the desk. Getting used to typing standing up, making sure that the monitors and peripherals are set as ergonomically correct as possible has taken some trial and error. But it has started to pay off. Less pain in my back is starting to become a reality. Sitting down has become a proper treat instead of being the normal state of being. To be honest, I don’t know that it’s so much finding the right standing desk more than it is to just get one and use it.

  • I Am A Landscape Photographer

    I Am A Landscape Photographer

    I am a landscape photographer.

    I have been for nearly 20 years now.

    This is the same model I got my start with.

    Just starting out in the aughties, I had one of those little Canon PowerShot point and shoot cameras. I loved taking pictures of nature – but I just couldn’t figure out why my photos looked so different from what I saw in magazines, or that were the default wallpaper photos on the computer. Little did I realize that I was just learning my “voice”.

    There was another point where I had gotten a hold of a Canon Rebel XT, learning how shutter speed, aperture and ISO worked together to put light into the sensor, to help frame a shot, and to manipulate the overall look of my photos. I’m still learning this.

    But there did come a point where I didn’t have to consciously think about those things – I kind of just control the settings like I use my legs to walk.

    These days I don’t get to go take pictures all that often. My wife is an amazing portrait photographer, and because we live in a beautiful part of the country, I get to go with her. Instead of taking pictures of people with her, I often frame up shots of the background she uses. And just as often, I’m not using a DSLR anymore. I tend to use an iPhone 16 Pro. The me from 20 years ago could never conceive of the level of detail or dynamic range a cellphone camera gets these days. I have sold some of my cell phone photography.

    Obviously, I am not a well known photographer, nor am I anywhere close to a top photographer. But what I can claim is that I like the pictures that I make (well, not every setup). I like that I can look at my own back-catalogue and just think “I made that!”, “I saw that!”, “I was there that day!”.

    I am a landscape photographer.

  • Existential Musing on a Stupid Hike up the Side of a Mountain

    _MG_1012wp100 yards to go.

    I’d been hiking to the top of the peak above Snowbird all day. The gimmick was that if you hiked the peak you’d get a free tram ride down. FREE! Had to do it. It really shouldn’t have been a tough hike. We’d had it all planned out. We’d take the easier of two trails; a winding path that picked up elevation much more slowly than the other one but was a couple miles longer. Things turned out differently than planned.

    Once we showed up at the trailhead we learned that on this particular Saturday our easy, meandering trail was closed for maintenance. 18 year old me was a freakin’ genius. He agreed with the group that the tougher trail wouldn’t really be that bad. “6 hours later” me was much wiser.

    A little history about me before I go on.

    You wouldn’t know it by looking at me but I have a rare form of muscular dystrophy called Myotonic Dystrophy type 2. No, no. No sympathy needed. I wallow in my own self pity enough. Yours would just drown me. But I digress.

    18 year old me had know idea I was affected by this, but there were several tell-tale signs. Not the least among these was scoliosis and something that the doctors could only figure to call “neural myopathy” in my legs; a fancy way to say that I have weak floppy legs and feet. My specialty is drawing short straws. If you can monetize this skill GelRed, I’ll invest. I just played through the pain. Most of the time it was just a great way to stay in shape.

    So we decided we’d take the hard trail up. We figured we’d always be close enough to civilization to just risk it. Off we went.

    The path would take us along a paved trail at first, leading us toward the ski slopes. It would fork at one point about a mile up where the “easy” and “hard” trails started. The easy trail was actually a vehicle access road that worked it’s way up the mountain for maintenance purposes. Our trail took a more aggressive route more or less straight up the slopes themselves.

    _MG_1041It was late June. In the valley at the bottom of the canyon temperatures reach into the 100’s regularly. Being up in the mountains was inviting. But what many might not realize, ourselves included, was that there’s always going to be more snow up at the top of these mountains than you realize.

    So there we are, enjoying the breezy 70 degree temperatures and a nice hike. Even the tougher trails weren’t dampening spirits. Rocky mountain trails are some of the most scenic places you could ever go. Fields of brilliant bright colored wild flowers cover the clearings and are surrounded by fir trees. If you don’t see moose at dusk then you’re probably blind.

    Making our way up the trail further, we realize that we hadn’t been following any kind of established path at all, just kinda hiking in the direction we think we should be going. “That’s okay”, we think, “it’s pretty obvious where we’re going. To the top of the mountain we’re standing on. Who could ever get lost around here?” Did I mention that we were all pretty smart people?

    What were our options? We could continue upward or turn around right then. We decided to keep going straight up. Every reader groans. “No you idiots! The killer is in the basement, just like in every horror movie!”

    Onward and upward! We eventually found some sort of trail a couple hours later. Probably a game trail. By this time, we realized we won’t make it to the top before dark unless we start jogging(did I mention we were trying to walk up the side of a mountain at 10,000 feet?) I couldn’t keep pace. A member of the group had to literally start dragging me. That kinda sucked. Nothing like feeling self conscious on the side of a mountain, hiking for my life.

    We started finding huge fields of snow in our path. Did we stop to turn around? That’s a big fat NOPE. We walked right in and realized we made the biggest mistake ever. Mid June snow fields on the side of a mountain are the alpine version of a slip’n’slide. And can you believe it? We all made it past the first one without dying. But at that point we realized that we’d had about 50 chances to turn back and head down without a “Does Santa live at the North Pole?” chance of sliding off a cliff(That reference usually means yes, but here it means 100%. Shut up, I make the rules in my own head. Squirrel!)

    No choice now. Push for the top or die. Maybe. Probably just spend a really cold night and get really bad hypothermia. Gotta go for the peak now or freeze.

    More snow fields, more slipping, more telling death and freezing “Not today”. All the while swallowing my dignity and getting pulled up the side of the mountain because I could only move at a bureaucrats pace without exploding my heart or somehow making my legs dead. And I had to stay on my feet or jeopardize the rest of the group.

    After a 3 hour eternity in the snow fields we started to get glimpses of the peak. Just like seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. It’s kind of a euphoric feeling to be honest. Seeing the goal put more wind in our sails. Even I had much more energy than I’d had before. But we got into a saddle and lost sight of the peak. We lost energy, we lost motivation. But then, there it was again! Damn the torpedoes, full steam ahead!.

    I think we went into two more saddles. That was from my own point of view the most demanding and draining part of this hike. To feel like the goal was finally in reach only to have it taken out of my reach over and over. Who’d have blamed me for cursing this stupid state of affairs and insisting on having a rescue helicopter come airlift me out? I’d had half a mind to threaten turning this hike around if that hunk of rock didn’t stop playing tricks on my psyche.
    I don’t know what pushed me more: the desire to get home safe, or the desire to say that I wiped to floor with that stupid mountain. Probably the latter.

    Finally the end was in sight. A steep climb up a flat rock field to the peak and the tram station that would ferry us back down.

    I looked back down at my feet and wondered how they kept placing themselves one in front of the other. I couldn’t really feel my legs anymore. That was okay. A few more steps and I’d conquer this butthole of a mountain.

    At the top, and after the indescribable feeling of accomplishment, I gazed down to the east of the mountain, then the west. And then down at the “trail” I’d come up.

    _MG_1962

    At the top I realized it wasn’t reaching the top that was the most valuable thing I did. It was overcoming many different hardships to reach it. This feeling of accomplishment wasn’t from being on top, it was from conquering myriad hardship and insecurities. This peak was just one of mountains I’d climb in life(now I’m speaking metaphorically. Funny how these existential things make you wax philosophical). I guess what I’d realized was that for me, this was the experience I’d had in my life that taught me that life isn’t about being on the peaks. It’s about the journey to those peaks, the lessons we learn from overcoming hardship. It’s about the focus it requires to keep the goal in focus, even when we can’t see it up close. It’s really easy to lose footing and slide down. We may need rescue, and we may need a bit of constant help, but hell, who doesn’t?

    Just keep putting one foot in front of the other, even if you can’t feel your legs anymore.