The Way We See It: Weather

Saturday, September 24, 2011

Capturing a Mood

Morning Fog and the Lift Bridge - Stillwater, MN
Canon 5D MarkII + 35mm f2.0 Zeiss ZE

September 23rd has come and gone and with it went the summer. For a brief moment, our planet neither leaned towards nor away from the sun. Residing in the same plane, this ephemeral point in time, the equinox, has happened biannually in the past and will repeat twice every year into the future.

Summer Reflections - Bearhead Lake in Ely, MN
Canon 7D + 300mm f2.8L IS

It is September 24th and the Earth’s axis now begins to tilt. Here, in the North, we are beginning to lean towards the cold emptiness of space while our brethren to the South are moving towards the warmth of the sun. How I envy the equatorial inhabitants of our planet. Everyday is an equinox on the equator. Never leaning towards or away from the radiant energy that fuels the tropics, the Equatorials need not fear the long dark that accompanies a life closer to the poles.

Seeds of Summer - William O'Brien State Park, MN
Canon 7D + 300mm f2.8L IS

Autumn signals a shift in my own mood. No longer free to frolic in the woods, pursue my craft, and live the life of a nomad, September requires disciplined adulthood. My inner adolescent who craves the aimlessness of summer now must resume the maturity expected of a 46 year-old man. With the loss of freedom comes moodiness to my work. As Labor Day approached, I found myself seeking drama in the ordinary. Waking early to catch a thick fog or chasing harsh light to juxtapose against deep shadows.

High-Key Sunrise - Tamarack Nature Center, MN
Canon 7D + 300mm f2.8L IS

Photography is an amazing outlet for the latent creative in us all. A medicine that heals and a therapist for the mind, image capture can ease the discomfort of life’s transitions. I encourage those of you in the north obsessed with your harvest, the stowing acorns, and the digging of shelter to put these preparations aside, grab a camera and shoot your mood. This is the time when the inner artist needs to be nurtured, freed and allowed the opportunity to express itself.

Thursday, August 4, 2011

Road Tripping Through Ecosystems #7

Incoming Storm - Theodore Roosevelt National Park, ND
Canon 5D MarkII + 17-40L @ 17mm

This will be my final post in the "Road Trip" series. With so many images produced in a short period of time, it's been a challenge to select a few to share. Ironically, the final image is among the first taken during our most recent trip West. After eleven hours of pulling the pop-up across Hwy 94, we arrived at the campground in Theodore Roosevelt National Park. We were beat, but the RV required our attention, and the rains were quickly approaching. By the time the trailer was set and coffee brewed, the Park Ranger knocked on our door. "You know about the severe weather, right?" she asked whimsically. We looked at each other and then at her with tired eyes and said, "no." Looking around the campsite, I queried... "where's the shelter?" The ranger paused, glanced at the Missouri River, the mountains to the rear, and road to the campsites, and stated... "We don't have one."

No time for small-talk, she walked towards some other campers to share the hollow warning. Unfazed, we finished our coffee, and grabbed the gear. I'm no fan of severe weather, but I love the soft light produced by the sun's rays bouncing throughout an ominous sky. The winds were whipping, and my tripod was whistling a tune as air passed through its legs. I braced rig with the weight of my body and took fewer than ten images that evening. The wind was so intense, it almost toppled my gear. As rain began to pelt my face, I succumbed to fatigue and retreated to the camper. The picture above is a composite of three exposures. The wind-whipped grasses serve as a contrast to the rigid mountains that stand fixed awaiting the impending storm.