I just read a wonderful article at Michael Reichmann’s Luminous Landscape web site – Taking the Ordinary and Bringing Out the Extraordinary in which Glenn E. Mitchell II (no relationship) discusses the process and approach to photography.

A comment about Ansel Adams caught my attention:

What always impressed me about Ansel Adams was his deliberative approach to photography. He would come to know a place. Really know it, so he could be there at the right time.

Another point in the article:

The very best photojournalists have the ability to take rather bleak, mundane subjects and through a combination of composition, exposure, and lighting craft an image that excites us.

While I can’t claim to be remotely as good as Adams or the others mentioned in the article, I strongly identify with these ideas, and I see the connection between them. To my mind, it is not so much about the specific subject of the photographs – there are good subjects everywhere – as it is about finding the best way to capture and present effective images of a subject.

I also try to get to know places, and some of them would probably seem pretty mundane if you actually visited them. One of these places is a short section of a nondescript lateral trail along a small ridge at Almaden Quicksilver Park in the Santa Clara Valley. I would forgive you if you passed over this section of trail and barely noticed it.

However, one time during the winter I happened to go there on a cold foggy morning and the place was transformed for me. Over time I have come to know the twist of the trail, the shapes and arrangement of the oaks on the ridge, and the amazing variety of lighting effects that occur. Over time I’ve managed to capture a few images from this place that please me.

Along the same lines, there is a specific tree near Vernal Fall in Yosemite that I know is going to make a great image if I can get there at exactly the right week in early November of the right year at the time of day when the light is just so. I came close once and have tried a couple more times. I’ll be back.

There is also a scene in Leconte Canyon in the Southern Sierra that I photographed a few years ago a bit too quickly. Once I realized how wonderful the image could have been it was too late. So now I know that I will eventually climb over nearly-12,000′ Bishop Pass, descend into the canyon 4000′ below and find myself on a particular section of trail in mid-July close to sunset with my camera on a tripod as the sun drops behind the ridge, leaving me to hike a mile or three to set up camp in the dark – only to climb back out of that 4000′ deep canyon the next day (or two).