Cottonwood trees with fall foliage reflected in the Merced River
Believe it or not, this is the mighty Merced River, draining a vast section of the Yosemite High Sierra that extends all the way to the highest peaks of this section of the Sierra crest. On this late October afternoon, on a dry day during a dry month at the end of the second of two drought years in the Sierra, the river felt in many ways more like a creek. The water moved slowly, gently rippling over rocks in the shallow sections and pooling in the deeper areas where the movement of the water was almost invisible. The contrast between this scene and what the river can do is apparent when your realize that these trees could be standing in very deep water during the peak runoff floods of a wet year.
I had wandered out to this relatively accessible location in the afternoon, drawn by the golden cottonwood trees that were approaching their peak autumn color, the brilliant fall backlight from the low afternoon sun down the Valley to the west, the shadowed granite face beyond, and the possibility of using the river as an element in photographs. I was apparently not the only person with this idea, and when I arrived I found perhaps a half-dozen painters occupying strategic spots on gravel bars, the beach, and along the banks. I made some photographs that included these artists, but I also contrived to exclude them from some of the compositions, including this one that brought together all of those elements that I came here to find.
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
The face of El Capitan is reflected in the surface of an autumn leaf-filled pool along the Merced River
A book might be written about this photograph, but I promise to keep it shorter than that. The book could include chapters on the role of luck in photography, the importance of patience, knowing places well, looking at things other than the most obvious, not forgetting to look at the obvious as well, the pleasure of finding like-minded friends in such places, the importance of wandering around slowly, and more.
Every autumn, right around the end of October, I like to go to Yosemite Valley to photograph fall subjects. This mostly means the fall colors of cottonwoods, black oaks, big leaf maples, and dogwood trees – though it also includes the beautiful brown, rust, golden, and tan colors of autumn meadows. It also includes the magical fall light of the Sierra. I’ve never been able to quite put my finger on just what it is that makes this light so special, but I am certain that it is different. When the timing works out just right – as it did on this visit – the first snows of the season might have fallen, and there will be at least a dusting along the rim of the Valley. The Valley slows down in other ways at this time of year, too. The visitors to the Valley are different. There are fewer in general, and especially there are fewer of those who might seem to be checking another goal off the list, and more who genuinely know and love the place. Only the committed – or the poor and RV owners – stay in campgrounds, so you can just show up and get a camp site. Interestingly, although there are far fewer people, I’m much more likely to run into folks I know, which seems to be one of the special pleasures of this recent visit.
As I photographed during this trip, I more or less followed the light and my intuition around the Valley. I might get an idea to go shoot some subject, and along the way I would find something else worth shooting… and many other things worth remembering for a later visit. One of the things on the mental list was a single isolated dogwood tree sitting back in a dark section of forest off to the side of the roadway. I passed it several times, each time thinking about coming back and photographing it, and I finally made it there late on my final day in the Valley. I parked – and no one else at all was around – picked up my gear and walked off into the woods. This light in the shadows along the base of the Valley cliffs changes very slowly, so there was no hurry to make a photograph before light went away and I just poked about slowly, looking at the tree from various angles and considering other subjects in the area. I made a few photographs, and just as I finished a car pulled up and I saw that it belonged to a couple of friends.
I wandered back over that way and after the requisite wise cracks and good-natured insults we realized that all three of us had the same idea to photograph on the other side of the road among trees along the river bank. So, still moving at a relaxed pace and talking as we walked, we headed off towards the river through trees and brush. Along the shoreline I came to a spot where a few leaves littered the surface of the water in a tiny, still cove along the edge of the river. This familiar granite monolith stands not far away, and I found that I could, if I put tripod feet in the water, get both the leaves and its reflection in the frame. I made a few photographs and then wandered off to photograph leaves and grass and some trees and more of the river. Eventually, the light began to fail, and I climbed a small hill and started back to my car through the trees. I happened to look up – yes, sometimes I forget to look up for a moment – and saw that the intense sunset light was striking the granite… and it occurred to me that I might just barely have time to get back to that spot where I had photographed earlier and put those leaves into the reflection of this transformed scene. Fortunately, I knew exactly what lens to use, what aperture to set, and where to locate the tripod, so I could move quickly and efficiently to make the photograph before shadow rose from the bottom of the cliff.
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
Raindrops from a late afternoon shower mark the surface of a small Sierra Nevada pond reflecting the sky
During our mid-September photographic sojourn to the back-country of Kings Canyon National Park, the four photographers in my group were blessed with a wide range of weather conditions. The weather was never difficult or bad, but we did get precipitation on something like five of the 9 days we were on the trail. This constitutes what I might describe as “interesting” weather – clouds, some showers, a bit of wind, occasional mist around the peaks, but nothing dangerous or wild enough to interfere with photography and confine us to tents. (Although we missed it, if we had stayed a couple of days longer we might well have added snow to the experience!) From my perspective, and I’m sure that I share this view with most Sierra photographers, the thing we perhaps dread most is encountering one of those weeks-long bouts of perfect blue sky boring weather. Give us some clouds and a bit of rain!
While it is possible to encounter the first Pacific weather fronts of the season at about the time we were there, with their potential for many hours or even days of “weather,” what we encountered was more like the typical summer monsoon weather. Most days started clear or nearly so, and by midday we started to see a build-up of clouds. By sometime in the late afternoon it became apparent that showers were possible, so we went out with appropriate rain gear and protection for camera equipment. As familiar as I am with this weather and even though I’m attentive to the changing conditions, it always seems that the actual onset of rain – typically a few drops seen in the surface of a lake like this one, followed by increasing showers – catches me by surprise. On the afternoon when I made this photograph, as on several other afternoons, there were patches of open sky around and I wasn’t actually expecting rain at the moment it arrived. I made this photograph at one of those moments when the rain was barely enough to feel, but when the pattern of drops on the reflecting surface of the water provided undeniable evidence of precipitation.
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.
Early morning light from a nearby ridge is reflected in the wind-rippled “blue hour” surface of an alpine lake still in the shadows.
In this area of many, many lakes this almost seems like “yet another anonymous lake,” though it is a bit special in that it was a very short walk from the place where I was camped for six nights this late summer in the Kings Canyon National Park back-country. I could get out of my tent, wander up the hill toward a nearby ridge, and be at this location within perhaps five minutes or so. Consequently, I visited this lake several times, though always in the early morning hours when its surface was still in the shadow of a nearby large granite dome.
I’m fascinated by the very blue light found in the shadows of large mountains, domes, and cliffs. This lake is set in a somewhat deep bowl with a ridge of granite slabs along two sides, and a very tall glaciated ridge topped by a large dome on the other. These features prevent the direct sunlight from reaching the surface of the lake until some time after sunrise, and the cold, blue light remains here longer than in other locations. It was literally cold when I arrived on this morning, and gusty winds were periodically stirring up ripples on the lake’s surface. I decided to contour around one side of the lake to a point where I could gain a bit of elevation above its surface and where the warmer colors and diffused shapes of a nearby sunlit ridge were reflected, refracted, and otherwise distorted.
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
Photographer and visual opportunist. Daily photos since 2005, plus articles, reviews, news, and ideas.
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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.
