Facades of residential buildings along a hilly street in downtown San Francisco.
With all of the landscape and nature photography I’ve posted recently, I figured it was time for something different. This is a street scene in San Francisco I photographed on a quick walk on an early March day in 2010. Many of the other photographs I made in this area included people, but it this one I wanted to isolate the fronts of the buildings, especially the contrast between the relatively fixed-up one on the left and the more weathered one on the right.
Morning winter fog clears from the oak forest and grassland of the Calero Hills, California.
This is a sort of scene that seems to me to be a prototypical California view. Almost anywhere you go west of the Sierra and away from either the redwoods or deserts, you won’t be too far from places like this that feature grassland, oak trees, and some sort of vertical relief in the landscape. This area happens to be a short drive from where I live. It is merely a local county park and not a place that most would regard as special. However, because it is so close, I have been able to spend a great deal of time here in all seasons, at all times of the day, and in all sorts of weather conditions. Eventually I found that there is an almost unending supply of potential photographic subjects even in this spot that would certainly not impress most people as being exceptional.
I made this photograph back near the beginning of 2010, and shortly after that a posted an early version here. That version was in a slightly wider format and it was in color. As part of my year-end review of all of my raw files from 2010, I saw this image again in its original form… and this time I saw it a bit differently, in black and white and with a more “traditional” 4:5 ratio format. Contrary to what I though originally, I now think that the narrower format does a more effective job of juxtaposing the stacked angles of close, middle and far ridges, and it also let me eliminate some stuff along the margins that now seems distracting to me.
To the extent that this version of the image works, I think it illustrates something that I’ve heard others say and which resonates with my own experience, namely that it is sometimes easier to “see” what is in a photograph when you get a bit more distance from the act of “capturing” it.
This photograph is not in the public domain and may not be used on websites, blogs, or in other media without advance permission from G Dan Mitchell.
“Coit Tower, Fog” — Swirling fog and mist engulf San Francisco’s Coit Tower and Telegraph Hill,.
Here is one more in this series of photographs of the San Francisco waterfront and downtown areas in brightly back-lit, early morning conditions with the City nearly obscured by drifting fog. All of the photographs in the series were made from a location near the north end of the Golden Gate Bridge, just a bit up the road into the Marin Headlands. Like several of the others, this one was shot with a 400mm focal length lens, pointing almost directly toward the rising sun. For some of the exposures I had to stand a couple feet in front of the camera, at the maximum extension of my remote release cable, and carefully position my hand to shade the front element of the lens.
Here the fog has almost completely obscured Coit Tower at the top of Telegraph Hill. If you look very carefully to the left of Coit Tower you can barely make out the ghostly image of the top of one of the towers of the San Francisco Oakland Bay Bridge. It was my good fortune that a slightly less opaque section of the drifting fog momentarily framed the summit of Telegraph Hill.
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.
Morning clouds fill the sky above the Manifold at Zabriskie Point, Death Valley National Park.
I posted a monochrome version of this photograph yesterday, so there is perhaps a bit less to say about it in this post. To recap briefly, this is a photograph I made over three years ago during a spring visit to Death Valley NPS. This was a bit of a different morning for photographing at Zabriskie Point, if I recall correctly. Usually, photographing here is pretty straightforward – and once you’ve shot it a couple times in “normal” conditions, there is a basic pattern to the progression of light that becomes fairly (though perhaps not totally) clear. Normal conditions here basically mean perfectly clear skies with the sun coming up to the left from the perspective of this photograph or behind in some of the other familiar shots that include Manley Beacon – and light that sequentially illuminates subjects beginning with the highest peaks of the Panamint Range across the Valley and gradually working down into the Valley and finally to the rugged shapes at Zabriskie Point itself.
But clouds can change everything. If I am going to shoot at Zabriskie, I watch for conditions that will bring them. I will generally not stop there if it is “another beautiful clear sunrise” at Zabriskie. (If you haven’t been there before, you should stop and take in this stunning scene, but I’m often looking for something a bit different.) While the results in clear conditions are relatively predictable, they are not at all as predictable when there are clouds. You can end up with something very special… or with a drab, flat, and gray scene. But that’s the thing about special conditions – they wouldn’t be special if they were predictable and frequent!
Thinking back to this morning, my recollection is that it may have been one of those when I arrived to think, “Oh, boy, clouds!” – only to think a bit later, “I wish those clouds would move and give me some light!” I recall some bits of dawn light that were mostly blocked by the clouds. But the very clouds that blocked the hoped-for first dawn light thoughtfully assembled themselves into these impressive forms just a bit later, at right about the time that the warm side-light was getting down into the rugged folds of the Manifold and Gower Wash.
This photograph is not in the public domain and may not be used on websites, blogs, or in other media without advance permission from G Dan Mitchell.
