Roots In The Air.

I have always wanted to photograph the stands of alders along the river valleys in Washington, yet never have. It is always hard to know where to begin when approaching a grove of alders to photograph. I found this grove while driving out... on the Mountain Loop Highway yesterday (Sunday Oct. 17). This was just past the Big Four Ice Caves. What caught my eye about this scene was the cluster of green moss covered rocks by the base of the foreground trees and the receding grove disappearing into the darkness of the evergreen canopy in the background.

Morning was rapidly approaching and the sky was already lit with the rising sun when I took this photo and moved on along the road. I was afraid that I'd lose my chances to shoot on this morning as I had lazily gotten out of bed around 6:30 AM rather than my more typical 3:30 AM for a drive to the Cascades. The weather was quite cool, and as I drove out the Mountain Loop later in the morning and drove up the North Fork of the Sauk River, I encountered several areas along the road still covered in frost.

This image is a high-dynamic range composite of 5 photos taken on a Canon 5D Mark II at ISO200, with a Canon EF24-70 f/2.8L lens at 32mm with exposures ranging from 1 second (to capture details in the white bark of the trees) to 15 seconds (to capture shadow detail).

Heavens Above and BelowEastside of Lake Tipsoo, Mt. Rainier National Park, Washington, USA. October 2, 2010. © Copyright Richard Mitchell,
Touching Light Photography - all rights reserved.

I had arrived at Lake Tipsoo very early in the morning, after an entire night of star photography. Departing my car under the light of my LED headlamp, I had to look around to find the trail out to the lake. It was nearly completely dark this evening. The moon had just risen around 1 or 2 AM, and was only about 1/4 full on this evening. As I walked through the woods and across the meadow to the east side of the lake, I was very aware that I had read of a few photographers encountering a Black Bear and her cubs near this location just a few weeks before. Okay, I'll admit, if bears didn't like sheep, I'd have been a bit sheepish about hiking around this lake all alone in the dark of the night, but truth be known, I knew that Black Bears had been know to occasionally dined on sheep, so it didn't seem like a good idea to be sheepish just now.

My other plan didn't look too promising either. For the first time in my life, I actually had a canister of bear repellant spray with me in case I was bothered while hiking around after dark. My PLAN was to go with a friend, and if a bear approached, spray my friend, thereby incapacitating him, after which I was confident I could run from the bear without being followed. Lacking a friend , and remembering that bears actually liked bear spray as long as it wasn't in their eyes, I was even fearful of discharging the bear spray for fear of simply providing condiments for their meal.

Arriving at the east shore of the lake, I unshouldered my heavy camera backpack and began setting up my camera, trying to imagine the scene in front of me (it was to dark to see it). In fact, this was a unique exercise in "previsualization". At least it got my mind off the bears.

I had hoped to shoot the Milky Way above Mt. Rainier, but by this hour, the Milky Way was to the north (right) of the peak, so I set up for this classic shot of Mt. Rainier in the dwindling dark of night (c'mon guys, give me a break, I once opened the door to my darkroom, and all of the dark leaked out!).

Anyway, the lake was mirror smooth, and I captured this heavenly image above (and below) Mt. Rainier. Enjoy!

Technical Details: Canon 5D Mark II at ISO 6400, Canon EF17-40mm f/4L lens at f/4.0, 30 second exposure, high-ISO noise reduction on (standard), long-exposure noise reduction on.



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Island Icebergs.

Frederick Sound (LeConte Bay), Alaska, USA. October 1, 2010.

© Copyright Richard Mitchell. Touching Light Photography - all rights reserved.

A magical other-worldly landscape presents itself at the mouth of LeConte Bay near Petersburg Alaska. LeConte Bay is a 6-mile long 800-foot deep bay at the foot of the LeConte Glacier. The bay itself is a very steep-walled fjord that terminates at the LeConte Glacier - the southernmost tidewater glacier (calving directly into saltwater) on the Pacific Coast. The LeConte Glacier is about 21 miles long, and is most active during the spring when it advances as much as 3 feet per day. After remaining stable for 32 years, in 1994, the terminus became thinner and began retreating.

Technical Details: Canon 5D Mark II at ISO 400, Canon EF17-40mm f/4L, 1/400 sec at f/10.

This photograph is not in the public domain and may not be used in electronic, print, or any other form, without advance permission from Richard Mitchell.

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Billions and Billions

(Remembering Carl Sagan)

Billions and Billions (remembering Carl Sagan)On a trail near Paradise (truly), Mt. Rainier National Park, Washington, USA. October 1, 2010. © Copyright Richard Mitchell,

Touching Light Photography - all rights reserved.

Billions and Billions (remembering Carl Sagan)

Photos of the Milky Way always keep me humble. Although the nighttime sky often gives the impression of looking out on the universe, in fact nearly all of the stars we see are neighbors of ours within the Milky Way. That's right - those specs of light in the sky are our nearest neighbors, not their distant cousins billions of light years away.

When he was younger, my second son once inquired about UFOs. Not wanting him to be alarmed, I told him that UFOs were nothing to fret about, and in fact aliens surely could not visit earth since even the nearest star was so far away. "What star is the closest, Daddy?" came his next question.

I knew the answer, or I thought I did…"Proxima Centauri" I replied confidently. (Of course, the sun is the NEAREST star…but I knew what he meant).

"How far away is that star, Daddy?" I was in for the long haul now. I knew how curious he was, and I was sure to face an onslaught of questions.

"It's 4.22 light years away, Eric" I answered, hoping this would end the inquisition, and yes, I did know the answer to that question without having to look it up.

"But how far away is 4.2 light years Daddy?". Hmmm…I thought. No way out of this now. I started multiplying in my head, using approximations to simplify the problem. I knew that light traveled at about 186,000 miles per second…times 60 seconds per minute times 60 minutes per hour times 24 hours per day times 365 1/4 days per year times 4.22 years. Tonight as I post this photo, I'm cheating - I just used Excel ... and the answer is - it comes out to 2.477 x 10e13 (10 to the 13th power) miles to the nearest star.

I gave him an answer that approximated that answer… "About 25,000,000,000,000 miles, Eric". (That's about 25 TRILLION miles … to the NEAREST star.)

"But Dad, how far is 25 TRILLION miles???"

I quickly ran some numbers in my head and answered him like this:

"If you were to get into the fastest spaceship any human has ever flown in ... on the first day of your life... and you hurdled through space towards the NEAREST STAR for the REST OF YOUR LIFE until the day you died, the nearest star would not seem any closer on the day you died than it did on the day you were born." (In fact, you'd cover less than 1% of the distance at 25,000 miles per hour in a 100-year lifetime. There are probably faster spaceships now, but that is still a reasonable approximation.)

That answer seemed to satisfy him, and it opened up the vast realm of space to my mind. Suddenly, the universe seemed HUGE. The nearest star - at 4.2 light years - so far away, and yet there are stars 15 billion light years away. One day, when you have the chance, look at the Hubble Deep Field Image of a spec of sky with 1500 GALAXIES in it...it is truly wonderous.

Gazing into the endless emptiness of space above my head on a lonely dark trail in Mt. Rainier National Park, I again really saw the vastness of this amazing universe, the depth of space above me, and wondered about so many things, and the connectedness of all living things, and the good fortune in having friends to share this with.

Technical details: Canon 5D MK II ISO 6400, Canon EF17-40mm f/4L at 17mm, exposure for 30 sec at f/4.0 with high ISO and long-exposure noise reduction ON.

This photograph is not in the public domain and may not be used in electronic, print, or any other form, without advance permission from Richard Mitchell. Richard Mitchell Touching Light Photography

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The Calm Before...

The Calm Before...Spray Park, Mt. Rainier National Park, Washington, USA. October 1, 2010. © Copyright Richard Mitchell, Touching Light Photography - all rights reserved.

This photo was taken at the end of a long 24-hour "shooting spree" the beginning of October 2010. I had a crying need to spend some time in the woods, and to spend time listening and seeing and thinking. My wife Diane has been amazingly supportive of my passion for photography, and let me head off for 24 hours of continuous photography. I ended my 24 hour sprint by hiking up to Spray Park, via the Mowich Lake entrance to Mt. Rainier National Park, a lesser used and lesser known entrance than the more popular Sunrise and Paradise entrances.

From Mowich Lake, the trail descends pleasantly through the woods around Mowich Lake, crossing the aptly named "Wonderland Trail" that completely encircles the great mountain. For a while, the trail is kind, then it begins its ascent up switchbacks, many with log-reinforced stair-steps. Leveling again, the trail heads towards Spray Falls, then begins its final ascent to the sub-alpine meadows of Spray Park. It is always a relief to see the clearing forest, the easing trail, and the opening sky as one approaches the top of the ascent - especially with a 50-pound backpack full of camera gear!

I had originally intended to stay until sunset, but on this evening, the exhaustion of staying awake for 36 hours was starting to hit, and I had arrived at Spray Park tired from the climb, and carrying far too little water and food for the hike. (note to me - next time, bring your water pump or your iodine tablets!). I decided to leave the Park about an hour before sunset, and took this photo near to the time of my departure from the glorious meadows of Spray Park. What a beautiful Fall day! The golds and reds of autumn were as clear as the air, and few people remained in the area as I set up for this shot. A beautiful way to end a full day of photography!

Technical Details: Canon 5D Mark II, Canon EF17-40mm f/4L lens at 26mm, ISO100, 1/15 sec. at f/16.

This photograph is not in the public domain and may not be used in electronic, print, or any other form, without advance permission from Richard Mitchell. Richard Mitchell Touching Light Photography Flickr Twitter Facebook Blog Email

Fog in the Valley

Fog in the Valley. Ricksecker Point, Mt. Rainier National Park, Washington, USA.

October 1, 2010. © Copyright Richard Mitchell,

Touching Light Photography - all rights reserved.

Last weekend, as I arrived at Mt. Rainier National Park, I first stopped at Kautz Creek, hoping to catch the last light of the day and fading alpenglow on Mt. Rainier. A few hours earlier, I'd been driving through the traffic of Puget Sound as the weather turned progressively worse. I was trying to decide whether to turn around, or to continue on to Mt. Rainier. What were the chances that I'd find anything worth photographing with Puget Sound totally socked in with building clouds?

I continued on, realizing that I'd already passed the majority of commute hour traffic, and remembering that I'd had the same thoughts a week earlier on my way to Mt. Shuksan, but had arrived at Shuksan to find a spectacular lenticular cloud above Mt. Baker nearby.

Sometimes it pays to be persistent and to have faith! I pressed on, and as I neared Mt. Rainier and gained altitude as began the ascent up the apron of the great mountain, I broke through the tops of the clouds to a beautifully sunny and clear late afternoon. Passing the entrance station to the park, it was only a short drive before I arrived at Kautz Creek. I was hoping to shoot a telephoto image of Rainier with the evergreens on each side, that so nicely frame the mountain from this perspective. Parking my car at Kautz Creek, I grabbed my camera gear and crossed the road to the short trail to the viewpoint. Arriving at the viewpoint, I started setting up my gear as the mountain began to cloud over. At first, the clouds were really beautiful whisps of clouds in front of the mountain, but over the course of just a minute or two, the mountain became completely obscured by the rising clouds.

After a few minutes, I accepted that I would not see Rainier from Kautz Creek again that evening.

I got back into my car, a bit discouraged, but determined to press on. I headed up the road towards Paradise (quite the name, isn't it?!).

Just past Christine Falls, there is a one-way "scenic route" that drives past Ricksecker Point. I decided to take the scenic route, and headed southwest out to the point under diminishing light. Arriving at the point, I looked back to see the beautiful Rainier rising above the fog in the Nisqually River Valley, with the beautiful evergreens on the cliff under Ricksecker glowing under the light from the West. I once again grabbed my camera gear and headed out to the side of the cliff and shot a few images. In a matter of minutes, the clouds filled the valley and enveloped me in their humid flow.

Picture-taking at Ricksecker Point was over for this evening!

This image:

Canon 5D Mark II, ISO 800, Canon EF17-40mm f/4 at 17mm, (oops - I forgot to change it to a lower ISO!), exposed for 4 seconds at f/6.3 (it was dark at this point!). By the time I lowered the ISO (only a minute later), the images I shot were softened too much by the rising fog of the clouds.

This photograph is not in the public domain and may not be used in electronic, print, or any other form, without advance permission from Richard Mitchell.

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Reflection Lake Star Trails (toned)

Taken last weekend at 9:45 PM on Friday evening, I shot this photo of a stars over Mt. Rainier. In contrast to the images where I was aiming to capture the Milky Way, here I did not want too many stars trailing across the sky. To large an aperture and too high an ISO could end up producing a pretty noisy image with a nearly white sky (from too many star trails). Here I shot the image by leaving the shutter open for 30 minutes (plus a 30 min long-exposure noise reduction blank image...for a total of 1 hour) - and I did so with no moon in the sky - so Mt. Rainier is illuminated by the stars alone.

Technical Details: Canon 5D MK II at ISO400, Canon 17-40mm f/4L lens at 17 mm and at f/4. In-camera long exposure noise reduction on.

Now You See It...

I'd rolled out of bed around 3:30 to make the long drive to Mt. Shuksan and Mt. Baker (Artist Point/Heather Meadows area at the end of SR-542 in northern Washington State). Arriving at Picture Lake before sunrise, I'd found it to be quite windy, destroying any hope for getting a reflection of Mt. Shuksan on the lake. I'd hoped to catch the reflection of Shuksan with some lingering morning fog on the lake - but no chance on this day.

I got back in my car on that morning, and headed to the top of the road at Artist Point, and found Mt. Baker mostly obscured by clouds and a lenticular cloud cap. By the time the sun rose, the clouds in front of Baker were gone, leaving a beautiful lenticular cloud on top of the mountain.

Details:

Canon 5D Mark II, Canon EF70-200mm f/4 IS lens (IS off) at 70mm, ISO 100, 1/500 sec, at f/8.0.

Now You See It….Artist Point, Mt. Baker, Washington, USA.
September 25, 2010. © Copyright Richard Mitchell,
Touching Light Photography - all rights reserved.

This photograph is not in the public domain and may not be used in electronic,
print, or any other form, without advance permission from Richard
Mitchell.

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Barred Owl.

Barred Owl.Mt. Rainier National Park, Washington, USA.

October 2, 2010. © Copyright Richard Mitchell,

Touching Light Photography - all rights reserved.

Here's the story:

After traveling to Mt. Rainier National Park last evening after work, and after spending nearly an entire sleepless night shooting images of the Milky Way (above trees, reflected in the appropriately named Reflection Lake), I then traveled to Tipsoo Lake just outside the eastern boundary of Rainier.

Long story short - I traveled from Tipsoo to Sunrise, and after finding that Sunrise didn't have any fall colors from berries, I turned around and headed back out the Sunrise entrance to Mt. Rainier National Park. Just about 1/2 mile from the entrance station, as I was driving, a large bird descended from the forest canopy and traveled along the road and in front of my car for perhaps 300 feet before disappearing into the canopy. I was driving, so I couldn't quite tell what type of bird it was. I thought perhaps a Perigrine falcon. I continued driving, carefully noting the pattern of the trees in the rear view mirror, until I could find a turnaround about 1/2 mile down the road (at the entrance station). I headed back up the road to where I'd seen the owl, and parked my car. I quickly grabbed my Canon 7D which already had the 300mm f/2.8 ("big") lens on it, added a 2x teleextender, and mounted it on my monopod and started walking along the road.

Fairly quickly, I "spotted" the large bird - an owl, about 50 feet off the ground in the branches of a tree. He quickly alerted to my presence, and soon flew another 300 feet away - but this time, I saw where he landed. I tried to get a shot of him, but quickly realized that I had too much telephoto with the teleextender, and it was dark-dark-dark, so I took off the telextender and boosted the ISO (sensitivity), and checked to see that I was in the right focus mode and multiple frame mode. I set the camera to f/2.8 and shot a few images before the bird flew on. I continued following, and this time boosted the ISO to 2000, since he was quick and it was dark. I walked towards him - or rather walked slowly past him, being careful not to look directly at him. I managed to get closer, and took a few more shots through the twigs around him.

Fearing he would soon take flight, I moved sideways a bit more to give me a clear shot of the bird, and quickly fired off another dozen or so images. I have many like this with the owl's head in different positions. Most came out quite sharp.

Honestly, I wish I'd seen the branch behind the owl's head and moved a bit - but I was pretty constrained shooting through twigs in the foreground. I'm not sure I could have changed my position.

This photograph is not in the public domain and may not be used in electronic, print, or any other form, without advance permission from Richard Mitchell.

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Sitka Sky

Sitka Sky. St. Lazaria Island, Sitka, Alaska. September 12, 2010. © Copyright Richard Mitchell,

Touching Light Photography - all rights reserved.

My friend Jeff Hanson and I were just departing St. Lazaria when we saw this fishing vessel headed toward us, probably destined to anchor on the leeward side of St. Lazaria.

This shot was taken as I was returning to Sitka, Alaska from St. Lazaria Island. This was from near St. Lazaria - about 15 miles west of Sitka. Taken from a rolling boat, handheld, with a 300mm f/2.8 lens at f/10, ISO1000, 1/125th sec. This is a good example of how good image stabilization is on modern lenses. Years ago, no one would have pretended to be able to hand hold a 300mm lens at 1/125th of second - a lens that without IS would require 1/500 or 1/1000 of a second for a decent handheld image. Here, the original image is really quite sharp even fully enlarged, despite being handheld at a low shutter speed.

This photograph is not in the public domain and may not be reproduced or used in electronic, print, or any other form, without advance permission from Richard Mitchell.

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Another Great Blue Heron...

Taken the same evening as the last GBH shot I posted, this heron flew right by in front of where I was standing at the Edmonds Marsh wildlife preserve in Edmonds, WA.

For the camera-ophiles that are curious - This time, I managed to have a bit more light, and the image was captured at ISO1600, f/5.6, and 1/1600 second, using a 300mm f/2.8L lens (with IS mode 2 on), and a 2x teleconverter. As a consequence of the slightly higher shutter speed than my previous post, this image is very sharp at full magnification.

I really like shooting images of birds either at dawn or at dusk. With the sun near to the horizon, you see some illumination under the bird, and it is possible to get back-lit feathers, both of which make for a better photo. When the sun is high in the sky and so are the birds, it seems as though you are more likely to capture the darkly illuminated underside of the bird against a bright sky - an even bigger problem when light overcast or thin clouds fill the sky!

Artist Point Fall Colors 2010

As most of you know, last Saturday September 28, I rolled out of bed at 3 AM to fix a pot of coffee, load up my car with lots of camera gear, and head off into the darknes to make the long (3 hr) drive to Artist Point and Mt. Shuksan. Sometimes I think that photographers really ought to just stay awake all night, finally heading to bed a few hours after sunrise, to awake again just a few hours before sunset.

When I got to the well-known Picture Lake, I found that the wind was howling, and I was alone at the Lake. It is always hard to make the decision to leave one possible location for a sunrise shot to head to another, but that is what I did. I figured that I had shot enough images from Picture Lake, I could afford to miss the sunrise there - especially with the wind howling.

I returned to my car, and started up the road to Artist Point - just a few miles further up a few switchbacks. When I arrived at the parking lot at Artist Point, the lot was already starting to become populated with the early morning photographers and early hikers, and the light from the approaching dawn was brightening quickly. I grabbed my camera backpack (around 50 lbs of gear - ugh!) and my carbon fiber tripod (makes me wonder - with 50 lbs of camera gear - does it really matter that I save a few ounces on my tripod?!), locked the car, and started up the trail - at a slow run. I wanted to move to a potential photo site before the sun rose (as it turned out, I still had a bit of time).

Before the sun rose, and lingering for a while after sunrise, there were beautiful lenticular clouds above Mt. Baker. After photographing Mt. Baker from several perspectives and with many different lenses, I was returning to the car when I saw this beautiful vista.

For this shot, I mounted my Canon 24mm f/3.5L TSE lens on my Canon 5D Mark II, and shot a very wide range of exposures. Although the sky in the distance is clear, I was actually standing in the relatively dark shadow of overhead clouds. In reality, although this presented some exposure difficulties - especially with howling wind - the soft light made the scene even more intense with color. With the sun off to the left, I also used a circular polarizer to hold down the reflected sheen on the foliage and to slightly darken the sky.

This image is actually composed of a blend of multiple images all shot at ISO 400 using manual exposure and an aperture of f/8.0, starting with a shutter speed of 1/4000 sec (underexposure of the foreground - but about right for the sky) - to a maximum exposure of 1/250 sec at f/8.0.

By using a tilt-shift lens, which allows you to literally tilt the plane of maximum focus so that the foliage a few feet in front of the camera is in tack-sharp focus while also capturing the distant mountains in sharp focus, I was able to stop the motion of the foliage by using a maximum exposure of 1/250 at ISO400.

I chose ISO400 as a compromise between going too high and risking too noisy an image, and too low, where my shutter speed would be too long and the plants would blur in the wind. By using the tilt shift, f/8 worked to capture sharpness throughout the image (especially because this was a 24mm lens).

Richard

GREAT BLUE

Great Blue Heron in flight in the last light of the day on September 25 at the Edmonds Marsh wildlife preserve in Edmonds, WA.

I'm always impressed with tack-sharp bird photos. I know how difficult it is to shoot photos of birds. They are small and tough to capture when sitting still on a perch let alone tough to catch in flight. This image was one of a few decent shots I captured of blue herons in flight during a period of about 1 1/2 hours of waiting. Most of the time, the herons (at least at this time of year) simply stand in the salt-water marsh catching small fish and grooming themselves. When they do launch into the air - at least to my untrained eye - it is not entirely predictable (though I'm sure that astute observers of herons will recognize all the clues that they are about to fly). Photographing herons is almost cheating though. These birds are surely the "747s" of the avian world. That makes herons easier to photograph from a distance. At 100 or 200 yards distance, these guys only fill a small part of the image - even with the equivalent of 960mm of focal length. Just imagine trying to shoot smaller birds in flight! With wings outstretched, they are huge and gangly, ungainly birds. Once in flight, they seem to have new found grace however, and their flight is beautiful. Approaching landing, long spindly legs unfold and they seem to almost crash land wherever they come to a rest. They don't seem to land with the precision of an eagle.

After waking up at 3 AM to make the trip to Mt. Baker and Mt. Shuksan at Artist Point, I had to return to Everett before 1 PM to pick up parts for my tractor, and then I had to shoot a soccer match before returning to wildlife photography. After the soccer match, I headed to Edmond's Marsh and headed out to the last viewing platform (furthest south) with a good view of the marsh. The herons were quite a distance away, so I had my 300mm f/2.8 lens mounted on the camera, along with a 2x teleextender. Coupled with a 1.6x crop sensor on a Canon 7D, this was equivalent to a 960mm focal length. Shot at ISO 800, 1/640th second, at f/5.6.

Rainbow Over LeConte Iceberg

This photo was taken in the evening of September 9th, when a friend and I traveled from Petersburg, Alaska to the mouth of LeConte Bay. The evening before, we'd traveled from Red Bluff to Petersburg after having spent much of the day in Frederick Sound. Our final miles into Petersburg were pretty rough with lots of rain and diminishing visibility in the rapidly approaching dusk. On this day, as we headed out from Sitka under partly cloudy skies, we saw a large rain squall over our our destination at LeConte Bay. Just as we neared the Bay, the squall moved into the Bay and the skies to the west cleared, with the setting sun illuminating the remaining rainfall to produce a spectacular rainbow.

...Nothing like having the perfect opportunity for a photo!

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LeConte!

Traveling southeast Alaska from Sitka to Petersburg with my friend and fellow photographer Jeff Hanson, I headed out to LeConte Glacier on Thursday evening and Friday morning last week. As we headed towards the mouth of the fjord from which LeConte's frozen Chihuly sculptures pour forth, we were a bit concerned to see a strong rain squall just over the entrance. A bit disappointed at the potential loss of photography opportunities, we pressed on, not sure how we'd photograph the icebergs in a heavy downpour, but persistent on getting photos nonetheless.

As we neared the fjord, a beam of sun cast from the western skies suddenly illuminated a few of the icebergs and an astonishingly bright rainbow lit the far shore beckoning us closer (photos later). We slowed as we approached the icebergs, which we could now see were in fact stranded on high points of rock at low tide. The tide was still rushing out, and as we neared the 'bergs, Jeff had to be very careful to avoid hitting any. Friday evening we were to learn from a local fisherman that a trawler entering Petersburg (about 30 miles from the fjord) had hit a small iceberg at slow speed and sank - just two weeks prior (a following fishing boat picked up the trawler crew just as the boat sank beneath the swells).

This is truly a magical place, whether or not you see rainbows. The light is spectacular in almost all conditions. On Friday morning, we photographed for hours - both before sunrise and for hours after. A remote and beautiful place with living art!

NOTE: The "black spots" on the horizon near the middle of the image is a flock of birds flying just beyond the middle iceberg.