Reeds and Cloud Reflections no. 1
Planning
The future is uncertain, so we try to control it by planning. We think that if we do A and B the result will be C. But sometimes there are too many variables that we can’t account for, so the result might not be C—it could be D, or E, or even Z.
Photographers often try to plan. We imagine that if we go to a certain location at a certain time we’ll capture a certain photograph. Sometimes this works, but frequently the weather doesn’t cooperate or conditions aren’t right.
I’ve been trying to embrace uncertainty lately, both in my day-to-day life and in my photography. Rather than attempting to control everything, I’m opening my mind to the possibility that unexpected events could be good—that on any day, or any moment, something surprising but wonderful could happen.
A few afternoons ago Claudia and I were in the Yosemite high country near Tuolumne Meadows. We had planned to meet up with a friend, but somehow we missed finding her, so we found ourselves in this beautiful area with no particular plans. And a thunderstorm rolled through. Interesting weather always makes my photographic antennae perk up.
We ended up following the storm, hoping to see a rainbow, and eventually we did. But if a rainbow can be unexciting, this one was. Or at least my photographs of it were. This spur-of-the-moment plan actually worked—I found a rainbow. But the resulting photograph didn’t work.
Letting Go of the Plan
So guided by whim and the thought that hey, the light looks interesting over there, we headed up to Tioga Pass. I remembered a small reed-lined pond I’d been to before with reflections of Tioga Peak. I walked down there and found the expected mountain-reflected-in-pond photo—nice, but nothing special by my (high) standards.
I continued walking around the shore and spotted some clumps of reeds with interesting shapes and lines. A light bulb went off: the clouds overhead were about to catch fire with sunset colors, and would be reflected in the water surrounding these reeds. Light, color, and design all packaged neatly together—perfect.
I spent the next 20 minutes quickly composing and recomposing photographs of two beautifully-designed clumps of reeds. The clouds were moving, so I had to keep changing the camera position to juxtapose a group of reeds with the most interesting cloud reflection at that moment.
I can’t tell you how much fun this was. Every time I looked through the viewfinder I saw another beautiful scene, and all I had to do was compose and press the shutter, and occasionally check my histogram. Years of photographic training kicked in, and decisions about compositions and settings were almost instinctive. I wasn’t thinking about the future, or the past; I was completely absorbed in the present, concentrating on the beauty in front of me.
I liked these photographs much better than the more standard views I had made earlier that day. These images of the reeds and cloud reflections are abstract, which I like. Even better, they’re a little surreal and disorienting, creating the possibility of a visual surprise—a view of the world most people haven’t seen before.
I hadn’t planned to go to this spot. I just thought, hey, it might be interesting down there. I embraced uncertainty and something unexpected yet wonderful happened. In hindsight I felt I’d been led to that place, either by instinct or by forces beyond my consciousness.
Letting Go—Another Story
My friend William Neill wrote an enlightening article in Outdoor Photographer magazine about how he made Dawn, Lake Louise, probably my favorite image of his (among many great ones). He started with a plan, but when the weather didn’t cooperate he was able to let go of his preconceived idea and find something even better. Bill actually just posted the photo and full original article on his blog—a great read. I’ll give you just a little taste here:
“Rising very early on a summer morning, I hoped for a dramatic and brilliant sunrise on Lake Louise and the glaciers above. Perhaps it was the two weeks of photographing in rainy conditions that biased my hopes! I waited patiently for sunrise, but my preconceived vision failed to appear as persistent clouds shrouded the mountains. It was a silent and mysterious dawn. I simply sat and soaked in the scene. Finally, I made two exposures, but expected little. I completely forgot about this session during the rest of my trip. When I saw the film after returning, I was amazed. I had to think hard about when and where I had made this photograph. Unconsciously, but facilitated by my experience and instinct, the power and magic of that landscape, at that moment, had come through on film.”
Planning is fine, and even necessary to a point. If Bill hadn’t planned to go to Lake Louise that morning he might have just slept in. But when your plan doesn’t work you have to be willing to adapt. And even if your plan does work you might find something better—if you’re open to other possibilities.
Your Stories and Comments
If you’ve embraced uncertainty and experienced your own moments of photographic serendipity I’d love to to hear about them, so please leave a comment—and include a link to the photo if possible.
Also, I like these photographs of reeds and cloud reflections a little too much, and can’t choose between them. So you can help me out by casting a vote for your favorite in the comments. My favorite is probably the image at the top of this post (no. 1), but it’s a close call. Thanks for your help!
—Michael Frye
Reeds and Cloud Reflections no. 2
Reeds and Cloud Reflections no. 3
Reeds and Cloud Reflections no. 4
Reeds and Cloud Reflections no. 5
Reeds and Cloud Reflections no. 6
Related Posts: Capturing a Mood
Michael Frye is a professional photographer specializing in landscapes and nature. He is the author and photographer of The Photographer’s Guide to Yosemite, Yosemite Meditations, and Digital Landscape Photography: In the Footsteps of Ansel Adams and the Great Masters, plus the eBooks Light & Land: Landscapes in the Digital Darkroom, and Exposure for Outdoor Photography. He has written numerous magazine articles on the art and technique of photography, and his images have been published in over thirty countries around the world. Michael has lived either in or near Yosemite National Park since 1983, currently residing just outside the park in Mariposa, California.
Good words to remember in the field, and beautiful images–I love this whole series, and especially the images that picked up more of the gold color from the sky. Just gorgeous.
I like to turn my attention to detail shots when I’m waiting for light (or when the light’s not happening), and often come away with images I like even better than the killer sunset:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/robinblackphotography/7750275356/in/photostream
And I agree completely about the importance of letting go–I think you HAVE to be able to do that if you’re going to be a good landscape photographer (and keep your sanity). I was recently in Olympic National Park, and had planned to spend one day shooting the meadows and mountains around Hurricane Ridge. The weather was about as uncooperative as it could have been for what I’d hoped to shoot, but I ended up finding some spruce groves that looked wonderful in the fog:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/robinblackphotography/7487120716/in/photostream
Great post! I love the abstract images you’ve created, so beautiful!
I agree about your first image…it’s my favorite, too!
We all know how the weather changes and deciding to go out a certain day doesn’t always turn into the adventure we planned. My favorite piece of advice is to remember to turn around and see what’s there!
Thanks for sharing this!
Sue
Most certainly #1 (great eye to catch that), followed by #5.
Saw your lineup for 2013 Yosemite workshops. Anyone considering one of them, do it!
Cheers, Stewart
As ever – beautiful work!
I love them all but for me the favourite is number 5 – my reasons may sound a little odd but I will say them anyway – gives me the impression of musical notes dancing across the water. The richness of colour adds to the movement – it makes sense in my head anyway…..:-)
Beautiful set of photos. #1 is my favorite, followed by 6. I particularly like the added sense of movement in the bottom 1/3 of #1. The updated Photographer’s Guide Yosemite is great! Thanks for your continuing contribution to my photography education, Kathy
Some days I like Bach, some days Debussy, other days Vivaldi, today I like number 6. Tomorrow it will probably be number 1. All of them are enjoyable.
No 1 followed by no 6. All beautiful but those two…
Such a great post, Michael. Some of the images I’ve made resulted from serendipity as well.
I like the colors of #6, but the overall image of #1 the best; I like to see when ends of the reed where it dips into the water, and #6 left me wanting a bit more.
In actuality, I like them all though 🙂
Nice shots and a nice essay. I think i like #3 and #5 best with 5 getting the nod. While #1 is indeed striking, I think the clouds are too well defined to create the mood I am looking for. (Maybe not you). In #3 and 5, the clouds are more abstract, and the only thing really recognizable are the reeds. It just suites me better for a striking photo. I know you like simplicity in composition, and I think they do a better job of it. The wavy clouds in #1 are too distracting for me. This is in contrast to what Kathy likes. Everyone has their own idea of what mood they wish to see in these.
That said, I would not mind if i had taken any one of these. Outstanding.
I’ll be in Yosemite the last few days of October and the first few of November. Hopefully the leaves change and stay on the trees, unlike last fall.
I’ll dig out my photo taken with uncertainty and post it later.
Aram
One winter day I was off to my favorite haunt by the Yakima river to take ice pictures. The river freezes over and the ice crystals take on a rainbow of colors. Well, after stakling around and not finding any, I was about to quit when I noticed something that had been in front of me the whole time. The leaves had piled up against the rocks at one point, sort of making leaf dams and it looked interesting, so I started to look around for them and found lots to photograph. I agree with Richard’s choice of John Lennon quotes.
Total shift in my plans and what was dissappointing became facinating.
Here is one of the ice dams.
http://gallery.leica-users.org/d/322409-1/leaf-dam-5.jpg
No 1, though a 8:10 or 5:7 crop looks interesting trimming just a tad off bottom
Michael:
Great post and a reminder that while all of the attention to technique and place and all the rest is not at all unimportant, what is perhaps much more important is learning to be open to what you find where you happen to be. You probably know that this is an important topic for me. Heck, I also wrote about a story of “luck” recently at my blog: “Photography and Luck” at http://www.gdanmitchell.com/2012/08/07/photography-and-luck
While I do plan and I do often “know” what I want to photograph and how I want to photograph it, I also know several things that you mentioned. One, though it wasn’t perhaps what I was expecting when I started your post, is the utterly critical, central, prime necessity of being “present” in the moment when you shoot. Yes, we all find ourselves making certain photographs – often even pretty good ones – in a less focused state, but in order to really find and see the core things that express our own individual relationship with out subjects we must get way beyond that. This is not some sort of mindless, trance-like state. If anything, it is a state of very intense focus, so strong that those parts of the world we are not thinking of at that moment may disappear.
Often, when I am this engaged with a place that I am photographing I have an odd experience when I finish. I realize that I have been unaware of sound and perhaps even wind at a conscious level. It is almost as if senses other than the visual become suppressed and only fully return when the focus relaxes.
And luck, or serendipity, or good fortune, or whatever you want to call it, is critical. We cannot arrange or predict the astonishing. We might be able to increase the odds – by being in the right frame of mind perhaps, or by learning where and when we are more likely to find magical things – but in the end we cannot control this, much less create it. If we _could_ summon up the astonishing ourselves… it would be so common that it would cease to be astonishing.
So, good luck to you, Michael! 🙂
Dan
This is a good reminder for any photographer. I used to plan trips and outings in a very strict manner and have learned to relax and just let it happen (to a point). Things so often don’t go according to plan I’ve just had to learn that when they don’t there will still be something of interest to photograph, even if it wasn’t my intended subject. Since learning this I think its all been a lot more fun as well!
I prefer “Reeds and Cloud Reflections no. 2” though it is a tough choice. I think the elements in that composition complement each other better without running into each other.
Wow, a lot of ones, sixes and a few fives. Just one three. I going to be the contrarian. I can’t decided between two and three. All are lovely, but there is something so serene about those two.
Hmmm! It’s hard to decide among these photos. I prefer the colors in #3 the most and the paint brush like effect of the clouds. But the close up of the reeds in #6 is my favorite. The reeds become more prominent and have more dimension in that one. I also like the effect of where the reeds meet the water – my eye wanders around more in #6. I feel in that photo that the reeds take on much more importance even though the reflections in all of the photos create interesting effects. Wonder what any of them would look if the reeds were more off center.
I choose #6 as my favorite and #1 as my second choice. I like the contrasting colors in #6 and the way the reed stands out as the main subject…in #1 it appears to me there is a contest going on between the reeds and the cloud reflection. Thanks for asking.
I like no 1. for the dark top left balancing the light bottom right with the reeds encircled in the centre. But I think my favourite is no 6 for the beautiful way the reeds curve and arc down to the water, rather than the more angular broken reeds of the other images (also like the blue and gold tones).
I will certainly see uncertainty in a new light now (forgive the ‘photographic’ pun).
Eric
For me, like many others, it is #1 first. The way the reflections of the clouds undulate while the reeds retain their smooth curves had me gazing for minutes on end. Second is #6 – I like the really tight comp.
Thank you for the insights on uncertainty. I think the best times in life are often those that are unplanned. With no preconceptions, there’s just the joy of the moment.
#5 for me Michael. Zen like.
Great post and so true. I was out last night by the coast looking for light in a location that never came but ended up looking closer at rocks in general. I still never came away with good shots but I did learn a lot.
Jim
Hi Mike:
I agree with your choice. My next choice would have been #6.
Inspirational blog that reminded of my own adventures. In Early June I posted this:
With an awesome sunrise behind me yesterday morning, I stayed steady on the task at hand. My goal was to get another shot of the setting moon over the Twin Lights of Navesink. (I think I’ll never get tired of this scenario.) But as you can see, the clouds rolled in, leaving the moon just a barely visible above the lights. Nonetheless, I would have to say that these colorful clouds and sunlit hillside were a fair trade off.
Here’s the link:
https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=422440991112409&set=a.189651121058065.41481.189630887726755&type=3&theater
Keep up the wonderful work and thank you for all the tips etc.!
Steve
Great post, and fabulous images, Michael. My favourites are number 2 and number 5.
In number 5, I love the way that because the reeds occupy more of the frame, the dimples formed by the reeds puncturing the water surface are so clearly visible, and the colour contrast between warm and cool colours in the sky is so pronounced.
In number 2, I like the way you have placed the reeds lower in the frame – and the sky reflection is particularly beautiful.
Number 3 doesn’t quite work as well for me as the off-centre placement to the left seems not quite right to me. Vertically off-centre seems to work with the vertical framing, but not the horizontal displacement in the vertical frame.
Great work!
To pick one of those images is a really difficult task. I like them all, a bit of abstract, with great color and interesting scene overall. Also, the first 4 have a bit different feel to it, with the reeds not filling the frame. I am leaning towards image no 6, but I wish there was just a bit of space left to the sides of the reed, to give it room to breathe. It has the most interesting form, and the most appealing colors. Yes, I think the soft arches make this image for me.
Gorgeous images, I just love them – great article to share.
My favorite John Lennon quote is “Life is what happens to you while you are busy making other plans”.
30 years as a Management Consultant had me working with organizations to help them move ahead with their business objectives while dealing with and surrounded by uncertainty. But sometimes it is hard to practice what you do as a career for yourself.
Thank you for the reminder.
I’m partial to to #5 – more warm. They all remind me of the water spiders I used to see in Ohio.
Uncertainty is a fact of life and I think of photography as a reflection of life. It is my hope that each time I go out to capture images that someting will distract me from my primary targets and prompt me to search out a better opportunity. You do this so well!
BTW, I see that Yosemite had a Hantavirus death recently. Beware where you camp!
Jim
Boy, an embarrassment of riches. Beautiful shots, Michael. #2 and #6 are my favorites, I think.
My “unexpected” story comes from last week. I was in the Sawtooths in Idaho, and the light was dreadful for days — heavy smoke from forest fires left the light so flat and orange that even sunrises and sunsets looked bleached.
So we went west to the Snake River and Hells Canyon, which I now think of as one of the great undiscovered subjects in the West. It’s a very strange and surreal landscape, Salvador Dali meets Sergio Leone (think early Clint Eastwood westerns). I don’t think anything I shot really captures it, but I highly recommend it! And if not for too much woodsmoke…
Nos. 1 and 6 are my choices and 6 because of the way the reeds leave the scene and then reenter in the reflection encouraged me to keep looking. Also like the cool and warm color mix in #6. Thanks Michael. Bob
Hmmm, tough choice.
Photo #1 versus Photo #6, with a heavy lean towards #1 —
#1 — I like the cropping of this image, as it shows the whole set of reeds—not cut off like #6. I like the slightly pulled back view of the reeds, as it shows a smallness or solitude of the reeds alone amongst a large body of water. The reflection of the sky just accentuates that feeling. The reeds and their reflection against the dark sky in the part of the image also creates some drama or moodiness to the image.
#6 — I like how the eye is drawn to the top of the image, which is where the primary subject (reeds) is located. While this image does invoke a similar feeling of smallness or solitude, I don’t feel it is as strong. With the reeds and their reflection taking up most of the frame, it adds some fullness and busyness to the image. To counter the last sentence of #1, the reeds against lighter clouds with some pink/purple coloring only conveys a sunset feel, and doesn’t provide the same drama/moodiness.
Resolution:
Each of these two images conveys a slightly different emotion, or strength of emotion and really should not be compared against each other. I like them both for different reasons. But, if forced between the two, I would choose #1.
Solution:
The reason I didn’t immediately go for #1 is that the fluffy clouds at the bottom 1/3 of the image draws my eye away from the reeds. A gradient filter (post-process) to darken these clouds would still convey the fluffiness of the clouds, but not as readily draw my eye away from the reeds.
As an alternate, how would #1 look in black and white with some strong contrast? I think that would make a really cool and dramatic image.
Final:
With all that said, I envy the opportunity to take the shots and the skill and equipment in which to do so. I don’t get to go out to shoot often, and my skills and equipment seriously lack in quality and quantity to garner such images. My hat is off to you! Great job!
Great essay and images, Michael, and thanks for mentioning my first OP column (I just turned in #103 last week!). Nice to see all of the comments here!
My favs here are #3 and #1, in that order of preference…
One thing I’ve learned over the years is that, no matter my location, plans or expectations, I ALWAYS find subjects in nature that thrill me and inspire me to photograph!
Thanks for chiming in here Bill, and for posting that column. What a great image, and a wonderful and educational story to accompany it!
Wow, thanks for all the comments everyone! There are too many here to respond to individually, so please forgive the generic response, but rest assured that I’ve read all the comments and clicked the links, and I really appreciate all of you who have taken time to write, and “vote,” and share stories of your own moments of serendipity and discovery.
If you’re reading this and haven’t read everyone’s comments above I recommend that you do so, because there are some really interesting thoughts and ideas here. Here are a few that I particularly enjoyed:
From Robin Black: “And I agree completely about the importance of letting go–I think you HAVE to be able to do that if you’re going to be a good landscape photographer (and keep your sanity).”
From Sue: “My favorite piece of advice is to remember to turn around and see what’s there!”
From G Dan Mitchell: “Often, when I am this engaged with a place that I am photographing I have an odd experience when I finish. I realize that I have been unaware of sound and perhaps even wind at a conscious level. It is almost as if senses other than the visual become suppressed and only fully return when the focus relaxes.”
From Geoff Mower: “I think the best times in life are often those that are unplanned. With no preconceptions, there’s just the joy of the moment.”
From James Hamilton: “It is my hope that each time I go out to capture images that someting will distract me from my primary targets and prompt me to search out a better opportunity.”
My choice of the different pictures is #3. The soothing reflections of the clouds, very abstract in that they aren’t obviously clouds are balanced by the sharp clarity of the reeds and their reflections. The colors are subtle across the whole and it makes you take the time to look at the details and gives a sense of the peacefulness of the moment.
The uncertainty of nature IS the prime reason for getting out with my camera. There is always something new to photograph, be it the way the flowers are growing in nature’s bouquets, which birds are around, what the clouds are doing. The life going on all around you.
Thanks for letting us know about your favorite AnnieJo, and for the thoughtful comments about the uncertainty of nature.
Michael – I prefer image 2. I think of the reeds as the subject of the photo with the nice reflections supporting “actors.” I think in image 2, the reflections support but do not overwhelm the subject. Conversely, if I look at image 5, I think the richly saturated, high key reflections compete with the reeds. Now, if you believe the subject of the image is the reflections, then one would have different choices. Great post – thanks for sharing. Frank
Frank, I like #2 as well – but I like all of them for different reasons. I don’t think of the reeds as the subject necessarily. The cloud reflections are at least as interesting, if not more so. What I liked about the juxtaposition of these two elements is the sense of the reeds suspended in space, which is an illusion that depends equally on both elements. So I would say that, for me, the subject isn’t anything as concrete as “reeds” or “clouds” – the subject is that sense of an object suspended in space.
I actually like no. 5 best. I’m not exactly sure why. Maybe it’s the bubbles, perhaps the color, or possibly the larger image of the reeds. They’re all cool.
Thanks Juls!
Michael, thanks for the post. #6, for certain! The colors are lovely, the frame is full with the graceful curves of the reeds, and the smoothness of the water creates a really agreeable background. Wonderful image.
Thanks for the invitation to share examples of ’embracing uncertainty’. I have a couple…
First is Larch Needles in Temple Lake. I captured this in the Enchantments, an amazing chain of peaks and high altitude lake basins in central Washington. Getting there is not easy (Google “Aasgard Pass Enchantments” for a sense of this) and I’d describe the investment for going their with photographic goals as “high”.
Anyway, I had a dramatic sunrise in mind similar to what you have described in your post and when this did not appear I sought something different. Just as the sun broke the horizon I dropped down a rock face and picked up a way trail leading to one end of Temple Lake, where I found these really interesting circular collections of fallen Larch needles (it was September). For my part in this experience, these more than made up for the lack of drama in the sky and made for a most pleasant and unexpected image.
And one more…a long snowshoe through Mt Hood Wilderness, up and over Tom, Dick and Harry Mountain, failed to offer the sunrise image I sought (a familiar theme?). Slogging my way back down through the trees I came upon ethereal melt formations in the snow. I heard the sound of a creek and then saw coyote tracks tracing its course (even though the creek was beneath 2-3 feet of snow). I made a fast exposure — it was a sunny morning and hard shadows were creeping into the scene — that has become one of my favorite images: Tending the Line.
Thanks very much Wesley for the kind words, and for sharing your stories. I particularly like the second image of the coyote tracks – I can see why it’s one of your favorites.
Breathtaking….I really like the first one the best closely followed by #6. I think I like these 2 the best because the roundness of the reeds appeals to my sense on continuity. I aspire to have your photographic antennae. Hopefully we can figure out a date to arrange a private workshop so I can pick your brain and learn as much as I can in a day…
Here is my photographic serendipity…I wanted to photograph this amazing bridge, the highest in California but it was totally fogged in. No up to your standards but I was happy with how it turned out.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/85216780@N02/7805975974/in/photostream
Thanks Monica – glad you like these. I can see why you’re happy with the bridge photo – I like the sense of it disappearing into the fog.
#1 is wonderful, but I think I like a couple others at least as much:
#6 is turning into my favorite – love how those lines and arcs fill the frame! It kind of makes my head explode – in a satori-like way.
#2 is probably my second fave because the reeds appear suspended in space more than any of the others – the elements of the image are less immediately recognizable. Love that!
As always, thank you for sharing your experience and images!!!
Thanks for chiming in Joolz!
I had the same experience as William Niell; going to a lake hoping for a brilliant sunrise reflected in calm waters. I was hoping that the clouds/fog would break just as the sun came up, but it was not to be. I had my camera set up waiting for the longest time and knew that the sun had already risen so there would be no color. I had found some trees breaking the surface of the water to use as foreground and as luck would have it, when the sun did break for a brief moment, I was close enough to move the tripod a few feet and recompose so the reflection of the sun would encircle the tress rendered a deep black. The original chrome is nearly void of color so I converted it to B+W.
Here is the link to that photo
http://www.flickr.com/photos/81349233@N00/4072584049/in/photostream
JJ, thanks for sharing your story and image. Beautiful photo, which is not surprising from you. 🙂
Great to see all the stories of embracing uncertainly! It inspires me to post more essays on my blog including other embracing uncertainly stories. For more of my essays, see:
http://www.luminous-landscape.com/columns/william_neil_essays.shtml
http://www.outdoorphotographer.com/columns/on-landscape.html
My latest essay on Luminous Landscapes is called Emotion – The Magic Element:
http://www.luminous-landscape.com/essays/the_magic_element___emotion.shtml
Thanks again for including my story in your essay, Michael!
Wow, Michael, this post really struck a chord, I think! I read something similar from Darwin Wiggett, how he’d been chasing “big light” but didn’t feel connected, and how many photographers he knew were pushing themselves in trying to make the extraordinary out of the ordinary. I think you’ve succeeded here in making something somewhat ordinary look extraordinary. There is amazing light here, but it’s what you’ve done with it that counts.
Thanks very much Vivienne! Glad this “struck a chord.” Light is a big transformer – a great subject in bad light makes a bad photograph, while an ordinary subject with great light can make a great photograph.
I like number 6 best. I think the reeds extending beyond the frame make it more mysterious and leave it up to the viewer to imagine “the rest”. The colors are also beautiful.