A male redwing blackbird perches on winter vegetation.
Redwing blackbirds, especially when they flock together, seem like some of the most exuberant birds in my part of the world. On the ideal morning, hundreds (or more!) of them may assemble on a tree or among reeds, chirping and singing enthusiastically… only to suddenly and unexpectedly take to the air in tightly spaced groups whose flight patterns are amazing.
I didn’t have quite that experience on this occasion, but it was still a worthwhile moment. This bird was perched by itself on this winter wetland vegetation. As the male birds do, he was showing off his bright red wing patches as he faced m , with the wetland landscape barely visible in the distant background
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.
Overlapping ferns grow close together in the springtime redwood forest
Late in the day, a bit early for golden hour but late enough to start thinking about it, I visited a short trail in Del Norte State Park, along which there was the promise of a few rhododendron blossoms and many, many redwood trees. It was an easy trail, gradually ascending and traversing a low ridge through the forest, and then beginning a descent that led to the beach. Since I was interested in the redwoods and not the beach, I stopped just past the beginning of the descent.
The lighting conditions were just about perfect — thin clouds muted and diffused the light, and it came into the forest from the west at a low angle, side-lighting the redwood trees. While I mostly was there to photograph big, obvious things like blooming rhododendrons and the redwood trees, this forest was full of smaller details, too. As I started back up the trail to return to where I started I saw some thick groups of ferns and I stopped to take a look. This little scene immediately caught my attention, with its nearly symmetrical layers of fern fronds leading down toward the forest floor.
Golden dawn light illuminates autumn fog drifting above marshland grasses in California’s Central Valley.
I went to this place to photograph birds – at least that was my excuse. In the past few years I have become quite passionate about photographing the migratory birds that may be found all over the Great Central Valley of California between late fall and early spring – geese, cranes, herons, ibises, and more. I think that once you hear the cries of these birds as thousands of them flock together on the ground or in water or, better yet, as they fly overhead, they get in your blood. In the fall I anticipate their return and watch for early signs. A few weeks ago we managed to find cranes further up the valley, and I knew that the geese wouldn’t be far behind – so this trip was, literally, a “wild goose chase.”
But the truth is a bit more involved. As much as I love the birds, I think that I’m at least as attracted to landscapes where they are found at this time of year, and to the weather conditions of this season. You might think that a bird photographer would want clear skies and bright light, but I look forward more to fog, clouds, and mist and other kinds of interesting atmosphere. In fact, at times it occurs to me that the birds may at least partially be my excuse for being in this landscape. On this morning I was expecting that it might be clear, so I was happy (strange photographer!) when I drove into thick fog a few miles from my destination. I arrived just before dawn as the sky was somewhere in that color range between blue and purple and pink, but just barely visible though the murk. I made a few true sunrise photographs that included a barely visible sun behind fog and clouds, then moved on along a gravel road to see if I could see the cranes that I could hear. As I came to a right angle turn on this road, the fog stretched beyond the nearby grasses and straight toward the low sun in front of me, thick enough that all details in the distance disappeared (with the exception of a few barely visible birds) into a luminous glow that was too bright to look at.
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
Ambient light, shadows, architecture and vegetation on a night photography shoot.
In November 2012 I joined my friends from The Nocturnes, the San Francisco Bay Area night photography group, for a get-together and shoot at the historic Mare Island Naval Ship Yard. Since this was an “alumni night” event, there was a certain ritual to be followed. Folks who were new to Mare Island arrived early to tour the site – the first west coast naval ship yard, with history going back well over 150 years. A bit later, the “veterans” arrived to join everyone else for events that began with sharing of photographs, continued with pizza, and then led to a night of, well, night photography nearby.
The weather was not promising. We knew that a weather front was on its way, and we hoped – though we probably knew better – that it might hold off long enough to complete some photography. (Those of us with smartphones, checking the weather radar updates, knew better.) The tell-tale south wind was rising as we headed out, and within moments of starting to photograph an old wooden building the rain began. At first I continued to shoot under my umbrella, but soon it was just plain too wet to stay out. Fortunately, we had arranged for access to one of the historic officer’s quarters buildings and photographing inside and around this building quickly became the fall-back plan. I ended up on the front porch with Mark Citret and Tim Baskerville where we intermittently talked photography and made a few shots of things that didn’t require us to stand in the rain. At one point I parked myself near an end of the old porch and made this photograph of the shadow of my rig falling the wall of the building.
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
