“Eastern Sierra Stream, Autumn” — Autumn colors line the banks of a small Eastern Sierra Nevada stream
This photograph is of one of those little places — you could easily pass right by it and miss it. I have, and I’ve even stopped nearby and not seen a photograph. This time I was heading up a canyon in cloudy conditions and light rain, and perhaps the unusual conditions helped me to see differently. In any case, as I drove past the area I noticed the red plants growing close to the ground, even though there were largely obscured by intervening trees.
I quickly turned around and came back, parked, and then spent some time poking around and looking. I finally ended up down along the bank of the stream, the closest I could get to the red plants, and I found a composition looking upstream toward more colorful plants and the white trunks of an aspen grove.
Leave a comment or question using the form. (If you are reading this on the home page, click the article title to see the full article and the comment form.
A grove of autumn aspen trees descends to the shoreline of a reflecting lake
I’ll use today’s post for several purposes — the usual photograph shared with comments, plus some thoughts and observations about the Sierra Nevada autumn color season. The photograph comes from a well-known location in the Eastern Sierra. I was fortunate to visit on a day when the usual crowds weren’t there, and I had the place almost to myself! It probably helped that I arrived at an unusual time of day, taking advantage of some broken clouds that produced some special light on the river of aspen trees flowing down the hillside to the edge of this subalpine lake. Parts of the grove were past the proverbial prime, but in some ways I like seeing a few bare trees in the scene.
On this past week’s short trip to photograph Eastern Sierra Nevada fall color I thought a bit about what I’ve learned over the years regarding the timing of the annual transition. One thing that I finally have accepted is that it is more or less impossible (with some minor exceptions) to accurately predict the evolution of the color in a particular year. A second thing I’ve realized is that, despite year-to-year variations within the season, the overall color transition tends to take place on more or less the same schedule each year. In other words, leaving aside truly exceptional times such as year five of the recent five-year drought, things tend to start and end on about the same schedule each year — despite the annual initial “observations” about how the season is going to be an unusual one — beginning high and working down the mountains to lower elevations, with other local variations in the evolution. (I confess… I’ve made those predictions, too.)
While the start/end times of the fall color transition tend to be fairly consistent (for example, week two of October is almost always a good bet), there are sometimes variations within that time frame. Some are obvious. For example, a big, windy storm when there are lots of yellow leaves will blow down many of those leaves, and there will be a gap of a few more days before other leaves change color and take their place. Others are more mysterious. I noted a few of those mysteries this year. For example, in one location where I often find trees losing their leaves somewhat earlier than elsewhere, this year there were still some green trees! Yet, in other nearby locations trees that are often coming into form just a bit later… were in full color already!
What to do? My advice is still pretty much the same. Target a time around the end of the first week of October for your visit, expecting that the week starting then is likely to produce good color. Once on the scene, be alert for variations and be ready to change plans. If one area is still green, try going higher. If the trees you visit seem to be losing (or have already lost!) their leaves when you get there, try a lower elevation, a location with larger trees, or a deep east side canyon. And realize that it is almost unheard of for all the trees in an area to be at peak color simultaneously — you are far more likely to find some bare and some green trees mixed in with your trees in prime condition.
What about this year? Based on what I saw last week, this weekend (October 12, 13, 14) should be great in many places. In addition, given the number of purely green trees I saw in various locations, it should be quite possible to still find excellent color in another week.
Early autumn color along the shore of a Sierra Nevada alpine lake
One of the pleasures of photographing from a backcountry base camp is that I can roll out of my sleeping bag and climb out of the tent… and start photographing almost at my doorstep. We camped near this lake for a full week, and on several mornings and evenings I explored it, gradually pushing out my boundaries, traveling a bit further along and beyond its shoreline, and getting to know it in different light at various times of day.
I made this photograph on one of those morning walks, when I set out slowly towards the far opposite end of the lake near its outlet stream. I was in no hurry, taking time to observe and photograph as I walked. Eventually I made it to that further point, photographed a bit there, and turned around to start back toward camp, continuing to photograph. The lake remained in the shadow of the tall ridge to the left long after sunrise, and as I walked back the first beams of light reached the shoreline. In this photograph a lakeside willow bush is catching some of that first light.
A talus field of giant boulders tumbles to the edge of an alpine lake at the foot of a cliff
There are multiple ways to look at this photograph. One is to think of it as a record of a specific place at a particular time. That is perhaps important to me and to the others with whom I shared this week in the Sierra Nevada backcountry, but I think it is far less important to others who may view it. Another way to view it is as an example of a particular kind of landscape — the subalpine terrain of the eastern slope of this mountain range — and to note the cliff face at the left, the base of the talus field that reaches to the shoreline, and the lake itself. Sierra travelers probably have their own collection of memories of similar places.
A third way to view it is to try to step back from the seeming objective reality of location and subject, and to try to look at it as a structure of colors and forms and textures. This isn’t always easy, and it perhaps it isn’t for every viewer… though the elements mirrored in the reflective surface of the lake may encourage a viewer to try. In fact, this gets a little closer to how I see such things and such places. Yes, I do respond to them a real locations and as examples of the Sierra terrain I love. However, in most cases that isn’t enough for a photograph, at least not to me. I’m always looking for shape and texture and color and relationships in these subjects. (Of the recent photographs of talus slopes, water, and soft light, this may be my current favorite.)
