Cloud-shrouded Mount Conness towers above the domes and forest of Tuolumne Meadows
I’ll take a break from the recent urban, night, and street photography and go back to the high country with a photograph from about this time a year ago. I spent a few days in the Tuolumne Meadows area, photography in the high elevation areas of the park. This was a particularly memorable evening that started without a specific plan, led to a surprise meeting with friends and photographs, including a hike down a river to a lovely area of granite slabs, and concluded with sunset back in the big meadow.
As we came back up the river we split up — some heading up onto a nearby high prominence and others (that would be me!) hanging out along the edge of the meadow, between the base of a granite dome and a large herd of grazing deer. As the final sun light touched the tops of the highest peaks, fog formed around the summit of Mt. Conness up along the Sierra crest.
Lembert Dome and Mount Dana rise above Tuolumne Meadows on a cloudy summer morning
This is yet another of the stopped-on-my-way-somewhere-else photographs, often made unexpectedly as I encounter something I wasn’t really looking for and get distracted — though another way to put it is that I quickly fall into a different mode of seeing when I photograph, and I begin to recognize the potential in subjects that I might otherwise not have noticed. In this case I was headed towards a specific location that I had planned to visit this morning, with a rather specific subject in mind. I set out and, as almost always, my “photographer’s brain” engages and I start seeing potential photographs everywhere. There is a tricky balance sometimes between stopping for the thing I see right here and sticking to a plan to photograph that other thing that I want to see. (This is an old question in photography with the extreme answers ranging from “never pass up a subject in front of you for one that you might see elsewhere” to “make a plan and stick to it if you want to get the photograph you have in mind.” The truth is complex, situational, and depends as much on good fortune and good guesses perhaps as much as on any rational considerations.)
In any case, I skipped past a few opportunities/distractions but ended up stopping for this one. This is a fairly well-known view in this part of the Sierra, though not everyone sees it right at sunrise. I’ve often stopped to admire the scene and on occasion photograph it, usually with some beautiful haze partially obscuring distant details and perhaps making closer details clearer by contrast. Since I am familiar with the view and had a good idea of what I wanted the photograph to look like, stopping for a few minutes was sufficient to make the photograph… and I was back on the road to my original destination.
Beams of sunset light, shining through breaks in clouds, momentarily illuminate Tuolumne Meadows trees and the granite slopes of Lembert Dome
This is a sort of companion photograph to one I posted earlier that was taken at about the same time, but more tightly composed and focusing on just the shoulder of Lembert Dome and the slopes of Mount Dana beyond. This was one of those Sierra evenings that started out with very mediocre light, but which also held the potential for something special to happen if things were to play out just the right way. Due to a wildfire over the crest near Mammoth Lakes, the sky was quite hazy. A high layer of clouds added to the gloom. I had spent the early evening trying to find some way to photograph these conditions, but was coming up short.
Not too long before I made this photograph, I had seen the gray murk suddenly lit by the warm glow of light coming underneath the edge of the high clouds far to the west as the sun dropped toward the horizon. This is not an uncommon event when the conditions line up correctly in the high Sierra, but this time it was a bit different due to the haze. The light, which might otherwise have been so colorful and bright as to almost be beyond belief, was instead muted and softened, though no less warm. A few minutes before I shot this image, the scene had been quite different – the sun had been behind those high clouds. But as I watched this it looked to me like the sun might find its way through a gap in the clouds, so I was ready to swing my camera to the east and capture Lembert Dome and other features in this light. Here that warm evening light glances across the face of the dome and softly lights some trees at the edge of the forest around Tuolumne Meadows.
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. Blog | About | Flickr | Twitter | Facebook | Google+ | 500px.com | LinkedIn | Email
A last beam of sunset light illuminates the granite slabs of Lembert Dome and the distant slopes of Mount Dana above Tuolumne Meadows
This afternoon of a day when I was in the area of the Sierra crest near the Tioga Pass entrance to Yosemite National Park had turned murky, with a combination of wildfire smoke and high clouds that largely killed the interesting light as the “golden hour” approached. I decided to drive along Tioga Pass Road as the day came to an end, and look for whatever interesting light might appear. There is a lighting condition that can sometimes turn a “blah” evening into something amazing in the Sierra – though I wasn’t too optimistic on this evening. On an evening when clouds overhead obscure the late-day light, the clouds sometimes end a bit to the west of the high country, and as the sun drops below those clouds to the west there may be a last-minute glow that must be seen to be believed. You most certainly cannot count on this happening – sometimes the sun simply drops behind clouds and the light goes out. But if it is a possibility I will often go to great lengths to be ready for it.
Even knowing about this light, I was surprised on this evening – twice! In the first instance I had thought I saw a very subtle lightening and intensification of color on the shoulder of one distant ridge far up in the distant Rafferty Creek drainage, so I quickly found a place to turn around and return to a roadside pull-out where I thought I could photograph it. As I quickly worked to set up my tripod and camera… the glow faded and disappeared. I looked around for evidence that it might return – a bit of light elsewhere in the landscape – but seeing none I got back in the car. I had driven no more than 30 seconds down the road when the entire landscape to my south and east lit up with glorious warm light! I quickly – again – turned around and drove back and managed to get a couple of shots before it disappeared again. I then went on down to Tuolumne Meadows with a vague plan to look for interesting light or to photograph an exceptionally large herd of deer that I had seen on an earlier evening. When I arrived, the light was not stunning, but the deer where there, so I put on my “wildlife photographer hat” and a long lens. As I photographed them in less than amazing light, I saw a bright spot in the clouds to the west that just might line up to send a beam or light across the meadow from west to east – and sure enough, a moment later the light began to gradually build. Since I had no time to move or change lenses at this point, I thought about what I could do with the long lens before this light disappeared, so I focused on Lembert Dome, bathed in this light at the far end of the meadow and with the more distant slopes of Mount Dana beyond.
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. Blog | About | Flickr | Twitter | Facebook | Google+ | 500px.com | LinkedIn | Email