Thin clouds in bright summer sky above the Eiffel Tower
It was Paris, so I had to photograph the Eiffel Tower. It is expected of me. It is an iconic site and it is impressive in person. But I found it to be a difficult photographic subject. It is easy to photograph it, but I found it tricky to find a way to not just make a picture of the Eiffel Tower. (On the other hand, I did almost exactly that on one evening late in our visit when we had a view from an upper story towards to tower as it got dark and the lights on the tower were illuminated.)
In any case, I decided to try some relatively tightly cropped photographs of the structure, some of which were much tighter than this one. But I got lucky, and some thin, fluffy clouds floated over in the midday light, producing a soft and glowing quality in the sky, and this seemed to contrast nicely with the start, strong, and dark form of the tower.
UPDATE: As of 2020 I am no longer posting annual updates concerning this subject — and I am editing older posts on the subject in light of the need to be more responsible about not encouraging the onslaught. I also no longer recommend going to the Valley to see it. Unfortunately, too much exposure (yes, I played a part in it, unfortunately) has led to absurd crowds, traffic jams, littering, destruction of areas in the Valley where too many people go to see it… and the park has increasingly — and appropriately — cracked down. Parking options have been eliminated, at least one viewing location has been closed. Good news! The rest of Yosemite Valley is still there and often exceptionally beautiful at this time of year.
The silver strand of Horsetail Fall and water reflecting on surrounding cliffs in late afternoon light, Yosemite Valley, California.
Although it seems like it would be extremely difficult to make a truly original photograph of Horsetail Fall at this point, I won’t completely rule out the possibility, and recently I have seen a few interesting and imaginative photographs of the phenomenon.
The necessary conditions are fairly specific, and even when the basics are in place there is no guarantee that the show will occur on a given evening. To be honest, the odds are distinctly against you, and you are more likely to see something that doesn’t match your expectations.
There must be flowing water in the creek near the east end of the face of El Capitan that feeds the fall. This is not a sure thing in mid-winter. There must be sufficient snow above El Capitan and the temperatures must be warm enough to melt it, or there must have been a recent warm storm that brought some rain to higher elevations.
The setting sun must align just right with a gap in the mountains to the west of El Capitan so that the setting sun (miraculously) casts its last beams right on the face of El Capitan where the fall is located. Roughly speaking this occurs during the second half of February, right around February 20 or so.
You must be in a position such that the fall is back-lit by the sunset light beam. In addition, your position must provide a clear view of the fall – not necessarily a simple thing given the forest cover in the Valley. These areas are now subject to terrible crowding that has damaged areas of the park, and the park service is wisely reducing or eliminating access.
Although photographs make it seem like a huge, overpowering spectacle, it is actually very small. It takes place high on a distant cliff face, and to photograph it you’ll need a very long lens.
Finally, the skies to the west of Yosemite must be clear so that the golden hour sunset light is not blocked. Many tell stories of clouds that made it obvious that the show would not happen or, even more frustrating, developing light that was killed at the last minute when the sun dropped behind clouds to the west, which are quite common.
Any post about the February Horsetail Fall occurrence must include a few other important points:
The event has become so popular in recent years that the experience has been significantly compromised. You will not have an experience of relative solitude such as Galen Rowell likely had when he made the iconic photograph of the subject decades ago. Instead you will likely find yourself among hundreds or thousands (you read that right) of other photographers lined up with lenses pointed the same direction.
This, of course, implies that parking and finding “your spot” may both be challenges. As a result of traffic jams, illegal parking, overwhelming crowds, gross littering, and damage to meadow, forest, and river… the park service is wisely putting several access limits in place, even closing one of the favorite areas as of 2020.
If Horsetail isn’t an option, you are are still in one of the most beautiful and compelling places on the face of the planet for making photographs! Speaking of which, while the crowds are focused on Horsetail, you might consider photographing other things away from the crowds…
The annual Yosemite Renaissance art show typically opens at about this time each February and features the work of photographers and other artists working in Yosemite. The show is in the Yosemite Museum Gallery and the 2013 edition runs from February 22 through May 5, with the opening reception at 5:30-7:30 on February 22. (You can view my work in the show this year.) In addition, there is always something interesting to see at the nearby Ansel Adams Gallery – this year an exhibit of Michael Frye’s photographs opens on February 16.
NOTE: The 2017 edition of the exhibit, Yosemite Renaissance 32, opens with a free public reception at 5:30 PM on Friday, February 24. One of my photographs is in the exhibit again this year. See you there!
G Dan Mitchell is a California photographer and visual opportunist whose subjects include the Pacific coast, redwood forests, central California oak/grasslands, the Sierra Nevada, California deserts, urban landscapes, night photography, and more.
Yesterday I shared elsewhere a photograph that someone had posted featuring a line-up of scores of photographers, arrayed tripod-to-tripod, ready to photograph one of those iconic views that we all know so well. I suspect that we have all been to such places and either found the experience of seeing and photographing them to be powerful… or we might have been repulsed by the crowds of people all apparently trying to “capture” the same thing, among them perhaps a number of folks who might be trying to almost literally recreate versions of the scene that they had seen elsewhere.
The point of the share (seen here and here) was not complimentary. My reaction to the photograph was to wonder, even more than usual, why people would want to make photographs that way. I phrased it as, more or less, “yet another reason to avoid photographing icons.”
However, a person wrote to me after I posted and pointed out, with a bit of anger and with some justification I think, that complaining about and putting down those who want to photograph a beautiful place might seem a bit pretentious and self-righteous.
She has a point.
While there is something a bit troubling about seeing dozens of people lined up to make the very same photograph, some of us might be a bit too quick to jump to overly negative conclusions. Perhaps there is a way to cast this as a positive lesson, rather than ridicule. So let me engage in a bit of reflection and honesty. Continue reading Photographing Icons – Or Not→
The first morning light strikes Manly Beacon at Zabriskie Point, Death Valley National Park.
Icon alert!
I had more or less promised myself that I would not photograph at Zabriskie Point on this trip – been there, done that – unless the conditions were really special. But I miscalculated my morning start on this day and discovered that I wasn’t going to make it to my intended destination in time. As I passed Zabriskie on my way to the “other place,” telling myself that I still had a half hour before I needed to be in place for the early light… I noticed that clouds above this area were already starting to pick up the pink color of dawn light. I hesitated for a moment – I really wanted to photograph that other subject – but quickly realized that it would make a lot more sense to the shoot the subject that was here in the light that was developing than to drive further and miss out entirely on the first light.
So I turned into that familiar parking lot with its familiar fleet of photographers’ cars and quickly loaded up my gear. I was a bit surprised that I saw so few people up above at the official overlook, but it was quite windy and I figured that perhaps they had just dropped down on the other side of the wall below this spot. In any case, I had a different spot in mind, one further to the right, so I headed over that way and quickly discovered that the wind was blowing almost too strongly to make photographs. I made a couple of shots from a small gap there and then headed up toward the overlook. At the top of the little trail from the parking lot I dropped onto the small use trail to the side of the wall and was again surprised to see almost no other photographers. I walked a few feet farther and discovered that the “usual crowd” was huddled in a small area in the lee of the wall, trying desperately to find protection from the wind.
These days, my main project when I stop at Zabriskie is to find and photograph small, isolated elements of the landscape with a long lens. For the most part – unless truly magical conditions are present, and they weren’t on this morning – I don’t really spend much time on the classic views of Gower Gulch, the Valley, and the Panamint Range. However, since I’m there and know the progression of the light fairly well at this point, I’m not about to pass up the opportunity to get a better image of one of these iconic subjects. So as the first light was about to hit the summit of Manly Beacon I turned my rig that direction and spent a couple of minutes photographing it as the line between shadow and morning light traveled down its face.
Photographer and visual opportunist. Daily photos since 2005, plus articles, reviews, news, and ideas.
Manage Consent
To provide the best experiences, we use technologies like cookies to store and/or access device information. Consenting to these technologies will allow us to process data such as browsing behavior or unique IDs on this site. Not consenting or withdrawing consent, may adversely affect certain features and functions.
Functional
Always active
The technical storage or access is strictly necessary for the legitimate purpose of enabling the use of a specific service explicitly requested by the subscriber or user, or for the sole purpose of carrying out the transmission of a communication over an electronic communications network.
Preferences
The technical storage or access is necessary for the legitimate purpose of storing preferences that are not requested by the subscriber or user.
Statistics
The technical storage or access that is used exclusively for statistical purposes.The technical storage or access that is used exclusively for anonymous statistical purposes. Without a subpoena, voluntary compliance on the part of your Internet Service Provider, or additional records from a third party, information stored or retrieved for this purpose alone cannot usually be used to identify you.
Marketing
The technical storage or access is required to create user profiles to send advertising, or to track the user on a website or across several websites for similar marketing purposes.
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” is available from Heyday Books and Amazon.
