Posts tagged with: Scrub Oak Barrens

Flash Frozen

 

Droplets on Spruce ( Fujifilm X100f, TCL X100II)

I consider myself an interested, if not a keen observer of natural phenomena. For instance,  I have over the last 25 years, kept a diary of snowfall events as measured on my back patio. I maintain 2  weather stations. 

So when I ventured outside on the morning of January 13th, I noticed that something interesting must have happened overnight.

For 2 days before, we had rain, some heavy, with temps in the fifties and even sixties(F) which wiped out the little snow we had. Overnight Friday into Saturday, the cold front passed, which was predicted to provide a period of freezing rain, then sleet, then perhaps a coating of snow.

So I was not surprised that Saturday morning, to find the yard white again.

It was in the single digits when I went out to clear the walks, and defrost my truck. I was not surprised to see an icy veil over the tree branches and pine boughs.  As I took in the lovely morning, I noticed that something looked different.

Droplets on Pine ( Fujifilm X100f, TCL X100II)

The bright morning sun filtered through the icy foliage looked extremely specular, an unfamiliar appearance to me

 

On closer inspection of the branches, I noticed not the uniform coating of ice that is the usual result of freezing rain. Rather instead, there were individual droplets of water, like crystal beads, on bare branches and evergreens alike.

This is why it looked unusual, for I was observing each tiny droplet as a tiny point of refracted light. The effect was quite stunning.

Droplets on Scrub Oak ( Fujifilm X100f, TCL X100II)

My community exists at between about 1650-2000 feet on the western edge of the Pocono plateau. the icing event occurred from about 1700 ft and above, with no icing below 1600 ft.

So what happened? I went to my online weather station which is located at around 1900 ft.

First, let me say that the sensor on this station is sheltered from the wind (as is most of my property) A 35 mph gust is impressive indeed and really emphasizes the strength of this front. Note that the temperature late Friday drops rapidly from almost 60 degrees (f) to just above freezing for a period of time and then plunges to the mid “teens” in just over an hour.

  To form this ice pattern, I suspect it continued to rain with the temperature just above freezing, and then stopped during the final plunge. Sleet, and finally snow would have come in as, or just after the front had passed. And the droplets from the rain were in fact “flash frozen” by the unusually abrupt drop in temperature.

It’s admittedly a small thing, a slight deviation in our usual weather patterns. But as a photographer, it created a tangible difference in the appearance of a small portion of our natural world. One perhaps that can be anticipated in the future.

 So why do I feel like such a geek?

 

 

The Gear I Use: The Fujifilm X Pro 1

Rocks in The Nescopeck (Fuji X Pro 1, Fuji X 35mm f1.4)

I’m becoming a Fuji guy again.

I shot Fujifilm cameras for many years. I started with an S2, and shot later with an S3, and S5.

I always loved the gorgeous output of their unique imagers, despite the quirkiness of the Nikon bodies they resided in (relative to the comparable Nikon DSLR of the time).

 Anyway, after the S5, Fujifilm stopped making Fuji/Nikon hybrids, and I began using Nikon cameras as they became dominant in sensor technology.

I’ve written on these pages, how the purchase of the Fuji X100 reinvigorated my photography for reasons that I still don’t completely understand.  With the purchase of the Nikon D600 (soon to be reviewed) and the sale of my Fuji S5, I was happy thinking that I have created the perfect collection of equipment for my various photography needs.

I was content.  The combined capabilities of my D600, and X100 in fact were making my D700 somewhat redundant.  I was perusing Ebay to obtain the probable sale price of that camera, when I came upon another lightly used camera body for sale.  The auction was nearly ended and the price of the camera was still very tempting.  I placed what I considered to be an unreasonably low bid assuming (and perhaps wishing) that I would not win. After all, I really didn’t need this new camera.  For better or for worse however, in an hour my cell phone alerted me to an e-mail I had received, informing me that I was now the proud owner of a Fuji X Pro 1.

Fujifilm X Pro 1 (Photo by Fujifilm Marketing)

I’m receiving the news of my purchase, I immediately ordered from B and H photo, a 35 mm F1.4 Fuji X. lens so that its delivery would coincide with the arrival of the body.

Now, I had originally been somewhat lukewarm about the X Pro 1.  I handled the body in a camera shop in Boston several months ago.  To me it felt somewhat light weight and not as substantial as my X100.  My error however, was not handling it with a lens.  When the 35 mm arrived along with the camera, I mounted the lens and immediately noticed the nice weighty feel of the combination.

I have subsequently acquired the Fuji 60 mm lens and I’ve been shooting for long enough with the system to have formed some definite impressions.

The X Pro 1 in use is a significantly larger camera than the X100.  I still prefer that camera to use as an indoor events camera given its small size, its 35 mm (equivalent) lens (a focal length not available yet in the Fuji X lens line), and its very quiet shutter.  The X Pro 1 is also very capable in these situations, when the image calls for a longer focal length (I don’t yet own the 18 MM as I may wait for the  Fuji X 18 – 55 mm f2.8 optic to be available).

X 100, X Pro 1 in outdoor trim (Fujifilm F 31)

Call me a Fuji fanboy, but I really enjoy using this camera system.

First and foremost, particularly with firmware 2.0, most of the early foibles of the X Pro 1 (and X100 before it) have been dealt with.  The ergonomics of the camera are a nice improvement over the X100.  Once again we see the lack of a mode dial, its function replaced with the rotating shutter speed dial, and aperture ring on each lens.  Each control has a position marked “A”.  For instance: when A is selected on only the shutter speed dial, the camera is in aperture priority unless A is also selected on the aperture ring at which point the camera is in full auto mode.  The only problem with this, is that you need to be alert for the possibility that the shutter speed dial( or aperature ring in shutter priority) accidentally moves off the “A” setting, which then places the camera in full manual mode.

There is a new button near the thumb rest, labelled “Q” which gives immediate access to the most commonly use settings of the camera.  This is very helpful.  The thumb wheel, now rotates completely that seems mainly useful for controlling camera functions and when pressed in, accessing a magnified viewfinder for manual focusing.

The autofocus button, though still poorly located on the left side of the camera, is it least now at the bottom of the stack so that it can be found more quickly.  I find though I still have to take my eye away from the viewfinder to change the focus point, something that is unnecessary for instance, on my G-series Panasonic cameras.

Then there’s the  dual viewfinder.  As with my X100, I tend to use electronic viewfinder more than the optical one, but the latter is useful when shooting action, as it allows you to observe a subject that is “out of frame” and time when he will be “in frame” so that you can push the shutter at the appropriate time.  The lack of a diopter adjustment is a complete mystery.  Apparently you can buy screw in viewfinder lenses and change the diopter but why Fuji excluded the adjustment feature is beyond my comprehension.  Happily the standard viewfinder works well when I wear my glasses.

The autofocus performance is a common topic of conversation for reviewers of this camera.  I find it about as reliable as the X100, which is to say not as reliable as my better Nikon bodies, but adequate.

A major reason to buy one of the Fuji interchangeable lens cameras is the quality of the lenses offered.  Both the 35 mm, and 60 mm lens are bitingly sharp in a way that I have not often seen in other lens/camera combinations.  The 60 mm is particularly so.  I cannot wait to use it for some upcoming model shoots I have scheduled.

Hemlocks on the Nescopeck (Fuji X Pro 1, Fuji X 60mm f2.4)

Another issue with this camera is the supposedly poor state of raw file interpolation currently offered by the major photo software companies.  As most readers know, the X Pro 1 has an unusual sensor with the kind of randomization of the colored photo sites that allows it to go without an anti-aliasing filter. 

# 3 is the AA Filter (Fujifilm Marketing)

AA filters are used to prevent color moiré that is caused by standard Bayer (nonrandom) imager designs when they react with certain repeating image pattern (a picture of a window screen, for instance might provoke color moiré).  Unfortunately, AA filters prevent moiré by adding a blur to the image which can significantly reduce apparent resolution. The X Pro 1, because of its “random” sensor design, needs no such filter. Because of this, the resolution of the imager, relative to its 16 million photo sites, is very high.

  Though I have seen some of the colors smearing artifacts others have described, overall the files that I am looking at, processed in Adobe Camera Raw are gorgeous, with very fine detail, comparable in some ways to the files from my D600.  I can’t wait until the raw converters are finally optimized for the output of this unusual imager.

High ISO performance is superb; at least equal it seems, to the D600 in my use. The latter is better than my D700 ( D 600 review coming soon), one of the reasons that the latter body may soon be for sale. The fast prime lenses, both of which remain sharp wide open, amplify the cameras low light capability.

Dad and Mike (Fuji X Pro 1, Fuji X 35mm f1.4 ISO 3200)

Then there is the great intangible, the “Fuji color” tonality that made me a fan of their cameras since my S2, purchased in 2002. It is here once again. There are multiple film modes, which change the color balance of the jpgs, but the RAW files appear on my monitor with beautiful skin tones. 

Yours Truly, with Calendar Kids (Fuji X Pro 1, Fuji X 35mm f1.4)

The rich reds and greens help to add “pop” to landscape images.

Green Trees at Arbutus Peak Barrens (Fuji X Pro 1, Fuji X 35mm f1.4)

!00% crop of above

So I’m definitely adding this camera to the tools I use. So far, I keep it with the 35mm (52mm equivalent) attached, in a bag with the X100, and use each for the focal length  I require at the time. I suspect that the Fujis will be my primary photographic tools  for the near future, with the superb D 600 relegated to on-tripod landscape work (given the substantial lenses it requires). I will keep the D 7000, for sports and wildlife. The Panasonic GH1 will be useful for casual shooting, or high-risk situations where loss of the aging camera would not be a financial disaster.

So… anybody want to buy a lightly used D700?

Our Current Autumn

Campus Tour in Harvard Yard (Fujifilm X 100)

 

From a photographic standpoint, If not meteorologically, autumn 2012 has come to an end in this part of the Northeastern US.

Aesthetically, it was a pretty good season this year. Some of you may recall my complaints about the foliage last year.  I think last year, the fall colors were adversely affected by the very wet conditions we experienced in the late summer and fall in 2011 (remember Hurricane Irene).

Yellow Maple, Lackawanna State Forest (Panasonic GH1, Lumix 20mm f 1.7)

 This year was much more normal, with maples and oaks producing strong red foliage to compliment the yellows and oranges of other species.

Color on the Nescopeck (Panasonic GH1, Lumix 14-45mm f 3.5)

 

The foliage turned fairly early this year. Our usual peak, here in Northeastern Pennsylvania occurs in mid October.

The Barrens Path in October (Nikon D 7000, Nikkor 16-85mm f3.5)

 I started shooting up on the Pocono plateau in late September, and finished in the valley in late October.

Kirby Park, Late October ( Fujifilm X 100)

The fall shooting came to a rather abrupt end with “super storm” Sandy. In our region, fortunately, that storm’s impact was quite modest (our hearts go out to those who are still struggling to rebuild). It did however strip the remaining leaves from the trees and thus abruptly end the autumn shooting season.

Sandy’s Early Winds (Fujifilm X 100)

Not even the river valleys had any residual color.

And then, I travelled to Boston, so that my son could visit prospective colleges. There, autumn was still very much in progress. It was like a reset.

Wall and Maple, Cambridge (Fujifilm X 100)

 For now however, in the Appalachians of Pennsylvania, shooting opportunities will be limited until the first snow falls.

Some thoughts on the old and new. Are more recent cameras that much better?

Rhodora (Nikon Coolpix 4500)

I have an image on my den wall of a rhodora bloom.

It is a flower that grows in the scrub oak barrens adjacent to my community here in Northeastern Pennsylvania. I have been told by naturalists that this is an anomaly, because it’s only supposed to exist much further north.

I shot that image with a 4 megapixel Nikon Coolpix 4500, which some of you may recall, was the final high-end iteration of the original twist body Coolpix. I have printed it at 8”x11” and larger, and love the image. It looks good to me even 7 years after it spit out of the Epson 2200 that I used in those days. And I have become very critical of images over the years.

Now I have owned a large number of compact and bridge cameras over the years. I printed and enjoyed many landscape images captured with non DSLRs in years past. Nowadays, I am somewhat unhappy with using a compact camera for this purpose, even the so-called “premium” compacts such as my Panasonic LX 5. I get many less images nowadays from small imager cameras that I would consider using, let’s say, in an exhibition, whereas in the past, I have used such cameras to confidently decorate gallery walls (and make sales).

Given some discussions I have been involved in various photographic forums, I have begun to wonder just how much better off we are , in terms of small-sensored cameras, than we were in the earlier period in the digital photography, when there were less pixels on small sensors than now.

I shot over the years with many “bridge” cameras in those days, sometimes side-by-side with DSLRs in the 6 MP range. My memory is, that whether it was a Nikon Coolpix, 900/4500 (3 and 4 megapixels respectively), my 4/5 megapixel Olympus E10/E20 or an Olympus C 5050, the files (I shot in those days mainly JPGs) were usable for landscape images, and that the images were pleasing to the eye, even printed at 11×16” or even occasionally at 13x 19”.

Now it seems to me small sensors seem lousy, not only relative to larger sensored DSLRs but even compared to older imagers with half the resolution. I can’t tell if I’ve become spoiled by the likes of my D 700, or whether packing those tiny sensors with as little as 10 MP is having a deleterious effect on certain,  intangible measures of image quality.

Obviously, this discussion should be limited to base ISO. Even a 2/3” sensor such that came with the Olympus E 20, was horrible above ISO 200. A Canon S 100, LX5 and certainly the new Fuji X10, would wipe the floor with them at higher sensitivities.

But I do wonder whether there are other advantages of bigger pixels, even big old technology pixels, have characteristics that make up for the advances that have come since.

Boulder in Chubb Pond (Olympus C-5050)

This is a 100% crop of an image shot with my Olympus C 5050 from a kayak in 2004. It makes a nice 11’x 16’ print, like many others from that camera. And, it was shot in RAW at ISO 200, miraculous for a bridge camera of that era. My other cameras at the time included a Fuji S2 pro. I often printed and sold images from the Olympus, again limited somewhat  in size relative to the Fuji. In this image I particularly notice the lack of noise, and reasonable detail.

Here are two images: one from my 2005 vintage Fujifilm E 900 which at the time was considered a marvel at high-resolution, High ISO (800 ASA max) shooting in a compact

Test Image Fuji E 900

.

It sports the same size 1 1/6” inch sensor as the LX5 which I used to take the other image. These were shot at ISO 400 in raw format, had the same exposure settings at f4, were corrected with the same settings in ACR, and sharpened with the same unsharpen mask settings in Photoshop.

Test Image, LX5

I’m not saying that there’s no difference. I think the Fuji noise is coarser, and there could be a smidgen more color noise. Detail seems about the same. Now the E 900 sensor is 9 MP and of the so-called “SuperCCD” design, so famous in the F 30/31 Fuji compacts These were the cameras that arguably started the craze toward lower resolution, higher sensitivity sensors ( I still have one). I do feel however, that given the 5 years between models, the differences are modest. I’m pretty sure that the E 900 would compete nicely with many other modern imagers.

It should also be said the ergonomics of the LX-5 are significantly better than the older camera making it much more usable. Oddly enough the E 900 may have the first compact that disappointed me with it’s image quality (maybe because the size of the megapixels).  I did get some keepers( see December 2013)

Now that having said all that, the Panasonic can render details nicely, if shot right. Here’s a 100% crop of an image I took with the LX5 recently, also at ISO 400 .

Hemlock and Bracken (Panasonic Lumix LX5)

What’s my point? I ‘m not sure there is one, except perhaps that as photo gear enthusiasts, we are seduced by the power of industry marketing,  which is aided at times by enthusiast websites who are connected to photo gear suppliers. Imagers are getting better, but perhaps more slowly than we think.

If you’re going to buy a new camera or camera body, make sure it functions better for you. Test it against the gear it’s set to replace. If it’s not truly more functional, don’t be afraid to send it back. And make sure that you buy  from reputable dealers that will allow you the privilege.

Also once in a while, If you have an older camera on your shelf, pick it up and shoot it. Print an image. You might be shocked just how much you like it.

Winter and Spring

Late March at Buck Mountain (Nikon D7000, Nikkor 16-85mm f3.5)

As I have written in the past, there is something cruel about early spring in the highlands of Pennsylvania.

 The winter of 2011 will be remembered in these parts, not for the large amount of snow we received (actually only 50 or so inches here where I live) but for the relentless cold that maximized its impact, and kept the ground, sidewalks and at times the roads, covered with the white stuff.

 In the forests, the snow cover was between a foot, or maybe two, for much of the winter. There was no true “January thaw”, like we usually experience.

It was so relentlessly “winter” here, that I decided to forgo my usual March Adirondack trip, and went to Florida instead.

Hemlock Temple at Rickett's Glen (Nikon D-7000, Nikkor 16-85mm f3.5)

Even there, the season’s grasp had not relinquished. We had cool temperatures during our travels, mainly in the 50s and 60s.  

There had been multiple freezes in January and February, injuring the subtropical vegetation. From Jacksonville to Cape Coral, we encountered cold-injured palms, their fronds brown, and falling to the ground. In the estuaries and tidewater areas, the mangroves were lifeless when we were told that they should have  been lush and green.

Because of this, several scenes I shot seem to work better as monochromes rather than in color.

Two Palms (Panasonic GH1, Lumix 14-45 f 3.5)

 

 Back at home, at least for some of us, there was an upside. We had reliable cross-country skiing and snowmobiling from early January until the first week of March.

On the downside, I burned a lot of firewood and of course, heating oil.

Photographically at least , snow and cold are helpful,  shrouding what would be a brown lifeless landscape with season appropriate trappings ,  decorating the farms and forests.

Winter however, was starting finally break. Last Sunday afternoon, I walked a local trail, called “Frog Pond Way” named for the multiple permanent, and “Vernal” ponds, that it encircles.

It was a clear day with the bright spring sun warming to me to a degree beyond what the 50 degree air temperature might suggest.

The cries of a flock of newly arrived robins, the distant call of a pilated woodpecker, and the cooing of mourning doves filled the air.

In every suitable body of water I encountered, a pair of mallards paddled together, occasionally tipping their heads down to the muddy bottoms to search for food. I surprised a pair of cormorants resting at one of the larger ponds.

Vernal Pond Panorama ( Panasonic Lumix GH1, Lumix 20mm f1.7)

And at one particular pond I encountered what I consider the truest sentinel of spring. As I approached I could detect the first tentative chirping of wood frogs, beginning to search for females.

I knew that there was some mixed precipitation forecast for the overnight, but not something that should slow spring’s progression. Or so I thought. One Monday morning we awakened to find two inches of snow on the ground. Twenty four hours later, eight more had fallen. We’ve had daytime temperatures in the low thirties since, with lows in the teens.

 I cross-country skied again yesterday, the scenery once again resembling what is seen in late January.

Black and White Barrens (Panasonic Luumix GH1, Lumix 14-45mm f 3.5)

As always, March is full of surprises.

Photography on Nordic Skiis

 

 
 
 
 

Small Spruce on Black Pond (Olympus E 510, Zuiko 11-22mm f2.8)

 

 Cross Country Skiing???…that’s too much work.

I am fortunate to reside in a portion of the eastern Pennsylvania Mountains (hills, really) where snow is fairly reliable from January through March. I also have a residence in the High Peaks region of the Adirondack Park in northern New York, where one can generally add a month on each end of the Pennsylvania snow season.

Since childhood, I have enjoyed snow sports of all kinds, but for the last thirty years, skiing, has been a dominant winter activity. It’s pleasant, that in both of the locales where I reside, that most of, my friends are also skiers.

I have been an avid downhill and Telemark skier in the past, but a bum left knee has left me somewhat hobbled in this regard. While allowing a few years to pass prior to undergoing knee replacement, I continue to at least be able to cross-country ski, which in some ways I enjoy more than its more glamorous sister sports.

Snow Squall near Rocky Falls (Olympus E 20)

Cross Country Skiing has several advantages. First, it’s cheap, both in terms of equipment and venue costs. To get fully outfitted for downhill skiing (skis, boots, bindings, and poles) could cost US$600-1000. I can find a nice touring cross-country set up ( the kind of skis you’d use on your local golf course or hiking trail) for between US $250-350.

Then there’s the clothing. Alpine skiers tend to use different clothing (warmer, less emphasis on breathability, more emphasis on style) whereas, if you’re already hiking in all seasons, cross-country garb tends to be an extension of your typical outdoor layering clothing strategy.

Some of my crusty old friends still insist on skiing in wool sweaters, and knickers with knee socks like we used to do thirty years ago.  Oddly enough, wool works pretty well, except that everything tends to stick to it. You look like a snowman if you fall.

Then there is the venue. In the Adirondacks, a day of skiing at two Olympic skiing sites varies rather widely. At the time this was written (2011) a downhill ski lift pass at Whiteface Mountain is around US $80. By comparison, to ski at the Van  Hoevenburg, Cross Country Ski Center (as well-groomed and full featured as anywhere in the country), costs a relatively modest US$20. Its trail system connects to the equally lovely Cascade Ski Center where a ticket is an even more reasonable US$12. In truth, resorts such as these are a luxury.  Most of the time, I end up “backcountry” skiing on public land where typically there is no fee.

Chimney at John Brooks Lodge (Fuji S3, Nikkor 18-35mm f 3-5)

 

When I bring up the topic of cross-country skiing to someone who has never tried it, the invariable comment is something like: “that’s a lot of work”. Actually once you learn the technique, moving at a brisk pace over level or even rolling ground is fairly easy. Like all forms of athletic activity though, if pursued with vigor, it’s a formidable workout.

Photography from skis can be very fruitful. Whether on alpine gear at a downhill resort, or on a tour on Nordic skis, the surrounding scenery tends to be rather striking.

Behind Pitchoff, on the Jackrabbit Trail (Panasonic GH1, Lumix 14-45 f3.5)

Doing photography however, while pursuing any athletic activity has its problems.  Active muscle tone and a bounding heartbeat can make obtaining sharp images a challenge. Camera stabilization is very important. Something as simple pausing for five minutes after exertion to allow your heart rate and “contractility” to subside a bit can help to avoid camera shake. Ski poles, tripods and, in fact any fixed object you encounter can be helpful.

It can be intimidating to carry hundreds, if not thousands of dollars worth of camera gear in a pack if you are not a confident skier. Hone your ski skills before packing up your most valuable gear before a challenging run. Until your pretty sure you’re not going to fall onto and crush your brand new point and shoot ( or fall on your D3 , and injure yourself), pack along more expendable equipment. If you’re not yet ready to ski with your camera equipment, snowshoes can be another, somewhat easier way to venture into the winter wilds.

Old Guy on Snowshoes

I really like the Panasonic G-series cameras for skiing because they are light, moderately priced but can still capture high quality images. They are also fairly sturdy, but I still think that they would deform in an accident, sparing my spleen.

I tend to carry camera gear in a large “fanny pack” with a shoulder strap over my left shoulder, and the hip belt tight enough to inhibit bag migration. When I want to shoot, I loosen the belt, and swing the band over my right hip, towards the front, where all of the contents are convenient to access. The Mountainsmith pack that I use fits a G series camera with several lenses, extra batteries and memory, a water bottle, plus room to carry a shed layer, all without disturbing my sense of balance.

Ice Fog, Arbutus Peak (Nikon Coolpix 4300)

Longer, more ambitious winter trips require gear that will only fit in a larger backpack. In this case, a smaller fanny pack can be carried up front, for quick access to your camera gear.

Skiing into remote areas allows one to observe and photograph even familiar territory in a whole new light, and get some wonderful winter exercise.

 And it’s really not that much work.

Another Thought on “Bleak Times”

Lancaster Farm Sunset ( Fuji S2, Tokina 28-80 ATX f2.8)

In my previous article: The Bleak Times of Year , I attempted to discuss the difficulties of shooting landscapes in our Appalachian late fall season.

 I neglected to discuss another strategy to obtain interesting images (though I  did, I believe, post an example of this strategy as the article’s original header image).

As it fall drifts into winter, the air gets colder… and drier, as the atmosphere at lower temperatures cannot hold as much moisture as when it is warmer. 

The “crisp fall air” has a striking effect at dawn at dusk, producing colorful, vivid sunrises and sunsets. Given the shorter daylight hours, they tend to occur at times more convenient for us sometimes lazy photographers . Add ice, or fall snow, and the effect is even more striking.

Late October Sunset, Glen Summit ( Olympus E-520, Zuiko 14-42mm f3.5)

 I t goes without saying that you need to steady the camera in the kind of low light situations presented at the very beginning, and end of the day. Tripods are the usual answer, but I have used diverse solutions.

One morning on the Monday of after American Thanksgiving  I sat in my tree stand in the crisp pre-dawn stillness, waiting for the sun to rise and hopefully, a trophy buck to wander within rifle range. It was very cold that morning, and I remember hoping that the small amount of coffee in my thermos would be enough to keep me warm until the our break at lunch.

There are many different kinds of trophies however: I watched as the skies slowly brightened over a nearby ridge: the clear air and complex cloud patterns conspired to create a spectacular display that caused even the most ardent hunters in our group to lose focus on the task at hand, and gaze at the sky. 

In those days good gear took up a lot of space in my backpack. I had only a very modest Nikon point-and shoot camera with me which I sat on the top rail of my hunting stand,  and released the shutter with the self timer, to avoid camera shake.

Hunters Sunrise (Nikon Coolpix 4300)

Shooting horizon and sky in the low light period between day and night, you need to focus carefully, mindful of the fine filigree of leafless branches often silhouetted against the sky. You need to keep the ISOs low to avoid noise in the shadows.

November Evening, New York Harbor ( Fuji F-10)

This gives you something to do for the short run.

Soon the holiday decorations will be put out, the winter snow will fall, and the world will become visually interesting again.

Until then, if the earth’s scenery is dull and lifeless, shoot the sky.

A Fire in April

Barrens Fire

We had a forest fire here in Mountaintop, Pennsylvania earlier in the spring. It burned off several hundred acres, threatened several homes, and scared the crap out of other people who imagined that it would consume their properties. This is pretty much normal for April in our corner of the commonwealth.

I watched from the home of a friend, who has a deck with a spectacular view of the conflagration.  The action was perhaps a mile away, on the next ridge over.  Even from that distance, we could see the flames leaping far into the night sky, as though they would consume completely, everything in their path. As is usually the case, this does not happen. Millions of years of evolution have equipped trees and shrubs with the tools to survive wildfires; they tend to regrow rather stubbornly.

I drove through the affected area today.

Already, several weeks later, there are signs of healing with the green grasses and bracken ferns punctuating the charcoal forest floor. Some of the smaller trees as well as the less fire resistant species will die, but most seem to have survived. Much of the fire occurred on scrub barrens land, for which burning is the agent of perpetuation.

Regrowth

 Today, the chestnut oaks on the burn site are in bloom as though nothing significant had happened.

In a year, only the blackened tree trunks will suggest that there had been any forest disturbance here.

Nature, in this case fire, creates renewal. The results can be jarring when a favorite landscape is involved, but most often, the changes wrought by fire are natural and even helpful to the ecosystems involved.

 What is most disturbing is that a fire strips away the shroud that hides our human misdeeds. With the ferns and underbrush gone, it is the nonflammable human refuse that remains, revealing the obscene way, that at least here in Northeastern Pennsylvania, we tend to abuse our surroundings.

I have never understood what possesses a person to toss their garbage into the countryside.

If you don’t want to pay for garbage pick-up, find a dumpster somewhere, take it to work, to your parents, whatever.

 Please don’t do this.

Revealed garbage