It’s barely past 5.00am and I’m standing ankle deep in water next to my tripod, waiting patiently for the sun to climb above the tree-lined horizon. Already I can tell that I’ve made a good decision: the predicted early morning mist is clinging to the shallow pool and swirling in the soft breeze; the sky is largely clear but with the added touch of low cloud straight ahead. My composition is wide, to encompass the urban surroundings of this fascinating place. I’m happy with the foreground – the low sun will highlight the plants, revealing texture and form. I take a test shot before the sun rises but know the resulting image is flat; lifeless. It needs the light. The light will transform everything.
Gradually the sun begins to break, shining through the mist and casting its warm glow upon my carefully composed scene. I continue to shoot for the next ten minutes watching minute shifts in light and shade and subtle changes to the moving mist. Quickly it becomes too bright to continue and I know that the first exposures were the best. I pack up my gear and search for different photo opportunities in stronger light.
There are many ingredients that create a successful nature photograph but perhaps the biggest is actually ‘being there’. This does not mean simply turning up and shooting – it means a careful, considered approach to put you in the right place at the right time. With enough research you can visualise your image and arrive at the perfect hour in the best weather conditions. I often think how many nature and landscape photographs I have on file, but how many are truly good ones? It’s almost always the case that the most compelling of images are those that were carefully thought, crafted and executed. A little effort can go a long way…
Technical info: Canon 1D Mark iv; Canon 17-40mm lens at around 20mm, 1/6 second at f14, ISO 100, Cokin strong ND grad, mirror lock up, Induro Tripod
Such is my love of photographing wildlife that when I turn my attention to other subjects it can feel like a complete shift in mind set. But there’s no doubt that this can be a good thing. I’d purposefully set out early to concentrate on macro images close to home with a few ideas in mind. I find close up photography is often led by my own instinct and it takes me while to ‘get my eye in’. When first approaching a flourishing stand of Oak trees I found it difficult to separate the buds and to see the best photo opportunities. But, fifteen minutes or so later, after carefully searching through the branches I was beginning to satisfying my own creative intent.
Light is a key driver in all photography and certainly in macro work. Working in partial shade I could capture good colour in the freshly unfurling leaves. Within half an hour contrast was increasing rapidly due the rising sun and I was unable to capture the detail effectively as at first light.
As contrast increased I moved further into the shade, finding a beautiful Oak gall – a colourful and interesting shape.
Stepping back I could see the galls and leaves were creating a nice pattern, so I switched to a wider shot and composed vertically.
I continued to search, using my instincts. The catkins drew my attention, not only due to their stunning shapes and colour but also the way they stood out from the clean grey background. For this shot I got in even closer, increasing my aperture and taking a number of shots to ensure a pin sharp result.
Realising that it was now becoming too bright to do justice to any more macro images, I looked for some different views of the Oak branches against the blue sky.
I was happy with the images I’d taken in a short space of time. But more importantly I felt like I’d done something purely for me. And this is the best part of photography – letting your creative juices flow, unshackled by necessity; direction led not by what I ‘should’ be taking, but rather by what my soul ‘needs’.