I Feel Fall Coming

August 15, 2012 G Dan Mitchell 5 Comments

It happens every year at about this time, close to the middle of August. Even though I have learned to expect it, I’m still happily surprised when it occurs. There is inevitably a day when I am outside and I sense something different in the world and I know (really know, not just know by looking at the calendar) that the seasonal trajectory is now beginning to leave summer behind and head inevitably toward autumn.

This is not a bad thing, by the way. I happen to love autumn.

Dry Creek at Fletcher Lake - A dry creek surrounded by golden autumn meadow grasses and illuminated by early morning light winds through a clump of small trees near Fletcher Lake, Yosemite National Park, California. — A dry creek surrounded by golden autumn meadow grasses and illuminated by early morning light winds through a clump of small trees near Fletcher Lake, Yosemite National Park, California.

It often happens for me in the Sierra. I usually spend weeks there between June and October – the time of year when camping and backpacking are possible. The beginning of the season is marked by tremendous changes. Snow melts, rivers rise, meadows flood, plants emerge, flowers bloom, campgrounds open, trails clear, tourists arrive, plans are made and executed and many things are new, or at least new once again. Then on that August day, something changes. I cannot put my finger precisely on the nature of the change, but it is unmistakable and it often stops me momentarily in my tracks when it happens. For some reason I often associate it with the way the air seems to move and with the way it carries sound – I may notice something different in the sound of the breeze or the way it amplifies the sound of a cascade across a valley. There is something about the light that I think of as a kind of soft quality and a feeling that the color of the light might be a bit cooler. At about the same time I often notice certain other more concrete indications for the first time, too, such as the way that more of the corn lily plants start to become brown or even yellow and that grasses are less and less green and more and more brown.

I was not in the Sierra when it happened this year. This year, the past few months have not been a time for a lot of travel to places like the Sierra. I have only been to the Sierra on a single multi-day visit, and that was over a month ago. (Don’t worry – I will be going back soon!) So this year it happened at home, on a morning earlier this week – my birthday, actually – when I walked into our yard in the morning to take a look at the vegetable garden, and I notice that vague but unmistakable quality of light, quietness of the breeze, and softness of the atmosphere.

The calendar may say summer, and for more than a month to come, but I’m ready for autumn.

G Dan Mitchell is a California photographer and visual opportunist. His book, “California’s Fall Color: A Photographer’s Guide to Autumn in the Sierra” (Heyday Books) is available directly from him.

All media © Copyright G Dan Mitchell and others as indicated. Any use requires advance permission from G Dan Mitchell.

Photographs: Central California, Photographs: Nature, Photographs: Northern California, Photographs: Ocean & Coast

Big Sur Coast at Soberanes Point

August 15, 2012 G Dan Mitchell 2 Comments

Evening fog comes in as the rugged Big Sur coast stretches north from near Soberanes Point, California.

Talk about photographic geekiness – we ended up making photographs on my birthday! Because of a variety of factors, this turned out to be a bit of a low key birthday this year – despite some earlier plans to do all sorts of wild and crazy things. (Completing the JMT or going to Alaska will perhaps wait a bit… ;-) After a quiet and lazy morning we decided to head down to the Monterey area for a birthday dinner, which turned out to be quite nice by the way. (Thanks, Patty!)

Since we arrived a few hours before our dinner reservation. After stalling around a bit, thinking about this and that option, we decided to do the usual, obvious thing and head south on the Highway 1, the “coast highway,” into the upper portion of the Big Sur coastline area. While it is a very familiar area and one I visit a lot, it is never the same twice – all of the variables of light and atmosphere and season and weather are in play and you almost never know quite what you’ll find. On this early evening, the most important factor was that the edge of the ocean fog was positioned very close to the shore. This meant that sometimes it extended just a bit inland, creating light that ranged from slightly luminous to gray and murky, while in other areas it was just offshore, allowing light to hit the coast and even to light the surface of the ocean a bit. Here at the cove where the creek comes down Soberanes Canyon to meet the ocean, we found one of those boundaries – quite gray along the immediate coast in the distance, sunlight on the bluffs and hills at the right, and that wonderful boundary light in between. And above that, the barely perceptible difference between the soft clouds of fog and the light blue of the late-day sky.

Text, photographs, and other media are © Copyright G Dan Mitchell (or others when indicated) and are not in the public domain and may not be used on websites, blogs, or in other media without advance permission from G Dan Mitchell.

Photographs: Central California, Photographs: Nature, Photographs: Northern California, Photographs: Ocean & Coast

Evening Fog and Rocks, Big Sur

August 14, 2012 G Dan Mitchell Leave a comment

Muted light on the surface of the Pacific Ocean and rocks along the Big Sur coastline as evening fog moves in.

Having a couple of free hours late in the day, we ended up driving down the upper section of the Big Sur coastline below Monterey, to the area around the Rocky Creek and Bixby Bridges. (Though we stopped a bit short of the latter.) The light was alternately gray and murky, soft and misty, and sharp and bright – the fog was lurking near the coast, and depending upon which bend we drove around it covered the coast highway and the inland hills or it ended just off the coast.

This kind of coastal light creates some of the most transitory and ephemeral effects of all the subjects I shoot, similar perhaps to shooting the clouds of a dissipating winter storm among the aretes and spires of Sierra peaks. The variables in play are numerous: the point of the fog line off the shore or inland, whether or not the fog is thin enough to allow a bit of light so shine directly through, the appearing and disappearing pools of offshore light where the clouds thin, and the motion of the sea itself. Often I’ll spot what looks like absolutely gorgeous light, stop, grab gear and set up… and then look up to see that it is gone. Or that it is appearing in some other location where there was nothing a moment ago.

Photographs: Nature, Photographs: Northern California, Photographs: Wildlife

Birds, Evening Fog, Rodeo Lagoon

August 13, 2012 G Dan Mitchell 1 Comment

Evening fog obscures the landscape of Rodeo Lagoon, Golden Gate National Recreation Area.

There is a somewhat unlikely story behind this photograph, but a pleasant one. Earlier on this day I had been in downtown San Francisco, in the heart of one of the more urbanized (and not in the good sense of the word) areas of the town. The reason for my visit was a pleasant one, and I do like San Francisco a great deal, but it was a very urbanized experience. I planned that after my downtown event concluded I would go do some evening and perhaps night photography elsewhere within an hour or so radius of The City, since I needed to be back there at about 11:00 p.m. It was mostly sunny in San Francisco, though there were a few wispy fog clouds present, so I started driving more or less west to see what might turn up.

As happened the last time I tried this pattern earlier this summer, as I drove I ended up in more fog rather than less. I recalculated and, again, thought that I’d try to cross the Golden Gate Bridge and see if I could get above the incoming fog by climbing into the Marin Headlands. The fog on the bridge was very thick and it was quite windy. At the north end of the bridge I headed up the hill – there was tantalizing, glowing light somewhere out there in the fog that suggested some clearing to my west and south, but the road itself was completely socked in. Optimistically (or foolishly!) I continued on to the area near Point Bonita, but I could not get out of the fog. It was now getting very close to actual sunset – though I could only detect this by a general darkening of the murky gloom – and I figured I might as well drive down towards Rodeo Beach to see what was there. As I crossed the upper end of Rodeo Lagoon I looked to my left and saw this small group of birds congregating not far from the shore, and in the fading light I decided that it was going to be this shot or no shot at all. I pulled over, took out the camera with the prime lens that I had used earlier for street shooting still in place, attached camera to tripod, and walked over close to the edge of the water.

After all of this driving, I was suddenly conscious of the quiet of this place in the evening light. The thick fog was blowing rapidly up the lagoon from the beach and glowing in the backlight as the light was fading, and three fog horns producing the tones of a minor triad (!) were slowly and mournfully sounding as I made several exposures of this scene. I finished, the light became very dark, and I drove a bit further so that I could walk across the beach to stand at the edge of the surf in the wind and fog before leaving.

G Dan Mitchell Photography

I Feel Fall Coming

Big Sur Coast at Soberanes Point

Evening Fog and Rocks, Big Sur

Birds, Evening Fog, Rodeo Lagoon

Photographer and visual opportunist. Daily photos since 2005, plus articles, reviews, news, and ideas.