Distant mountains are barely visible beyond sandstorm clouds and desert dunes.
This was not the most intense sandstorm I have experienced and photographed — I have some interesting stories about those! — but it was a pretty good one. Driving down the east side of Death Valley near the turnoff to Beatty, the winds were whipping up dust and sand to the west over the valley, blotting out the view of the great flats beyond the dunes and almost obscuring the more distant Cottonwood mountains.
I employed some of my typical strategies for photography in sandstorm conditions. While I will, on occasion, venture into the thick of the storm, dealing with the winds and blowing dust while trying to make photographs is something that you mostly want to avoid. (Going against that imperative can sometimes produce good photography, but it can also destroy equipment. Be careful!) Here I worked from the fringe of the strong winds and blowing sand, photographing into and across the maelstrom with a very long lens.
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, Amazon, and directly from G Dan Mitchell.
Immense desert mountains partially obscured by blowing dust.
For some reason, this week I seem to be reviewing photographs from Death Valley and many of them want to be monochrome. This is the second in two days. Recently I’ve been thinking about the subject of rugged, desert ridges receding into distant haze, and when I came across this old raw file it seemed to fit right into that theme.
My recollection (not completely certain, since the photo was made nearly eight years ago) is that we were headed up Death Valley towards a dust storm rising in the flats and dunes north of Stovepipe Well. That’s not an uncommon occurrence at this time of year. The atmosphere was filled with that diffuse haze that often develops around dust storm, and as we approached the source of the blowing sand we began to see clouds of dust rising above the landscape in the center of the valley.
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, Amazon, and directly from G Dan Mitchell.
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 is a California photographer 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
Alcatraz Island is almost completely obscured by San Francisco Bay fog drifting beneath blue sky.
This is another of what I sort of think of as my “barely there” photographs, in which I work with subjects that are almostcompletely obscured by fog, mist, rain, or clouds. Some of my Yosemite Valley photographs from a rainy weekend near the end of this past October are in the same category.
You can experience an astonishing range of atmospheric conditions in and around San Francisco Bay. The patterns at this time of year (the very end of fall, and more like winter conditions) are quite different from summer. As often as not, the fog in the winter comes from inland rather than drifting in through the Golden Gate, and it is more related to the tule fog that can sit in the Central Valley during the winter, sometimes for weeks. On the other hand, after the passage of a winter storm (which brings its own impressive conditions) the winter air over the Bay can be crystal clear. And frequently the conditions can change rapidly, as was the case on this morning. When I arrived in the Marin Headlands above the north end of the Golden Gate Bridge before dawn, I was initially a bit disappointed that the conditions were too clear! Except for a bank of clouds right above San Francisco (the subject of some other recently posted photographs) the rest of the Bay was almost completely clear. But then, at first imperceptibly and then very quickly, fog began to condense out of the air above the bay. In a short period of time subjects that had been clearly visible were completely obscured. Within moments after making this photograph, Alcatraz was not longer visible.
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.
