Becoming unfamiliar with the familiar

"The two most engaging powers of a photograph are to make new things familiar and familiar things new." William Thackeray

My first shot of Biscayne Bay with a DSLR camera, from the canoe. Somewhat symbolic, this image reveals an opening into the bay (2007).

I am not a travel photographer. Instead, I spend most of my time in only a few specific locations. Indeed, as the subtitle of this blog states, I specialize in south Florida Everglades and Biscayne Bay.

As I continued exploring Biscayne Bay, I spent more time photographing wading birds. But always, the draw was the mangroves and I looked for those opportunities to capture their reflections (2008).

I began my photographic odyssey in the Everglades and Biscayne Bay and I continue to go back to the same locations as I did over ten years ago when I first took a DSLR camera with me in the canoe. For me as a photographer, I would say that my artistic vision is born out of these places that I am familiar with and have visited countless times. Going back to the same specific location over and over again would appear redundant and boring to many. But I see it differently.

I began exploring mangroves more intimately. At the same time, reflections on the water continued to draw me in (2009).

As I have evolved as a photographer and artist, so has my connection to these familiar places, and in turn, that familiarity has helped me grow as an artist. When you are trying to create an image, a familiar location provides you with a foundation of information from which to draw upon. With this foundation, you are freed up to explore your artistic vision. You can let go of certain necessities that typically take up time and energy; such as navigating around an area, figuring out where to find the optimal lighting, and locating interesting subjects. You know that stuff already, you can now focus more of your attention to the creative process and how you intend to capture a familiar scene with a fresh perspective.

The openness of Biscayne Bay is what stands out the most. Naturally, sunrises take center stage, but were not quite on my radar screen. While I was discovering ways to capture the intimate mangroves, I was also beginning to discover landscape photography techniques and had not yet brought them to the bay (2010).

And with that, it is all about fresh perspective. As we grow artistically, our mind can attend to its creative side more effectively and we can see familiar places and things in new ways. As we learn camera skills and new techniques, we go back to a location with those new skills and capture a scene differently. It's all about being open and allowing your creativity to take over. Rather than go to a familiar location with an expectation or not go back to it at all, we can be open with our approach to imagery and allow ourselves to become unfamiliar with the familiar.

Birds continued to be significant subjects, but I began to spend more time looking for a more fine art approach to photographing them (2011).

While I sometimes wish I was one of those photographers that travels to the most breathtaking locations in the United States and adds one stunning image after another to his or her portfolio, I believe it would have taken me much longer to strengthen my creative side if I was moving from one place to another. I look forward to visiting some of these iconic places, but the time I can reasonably spend in one location will be limited. To put this in perspective, I have been exploring specific locations for ten years and I am still on a quest for that ONE shot. I don't know what is "that ONE shot", but it is what keeps me returning again and again.

I had discovered a new way to capture mangroves using intentional camera movement. This opened my eyes to more possibilities in an attempt to capture mangroves artistically (2012).

And when I do return to a place, sometimes magic happens. I discover new things or old things are seen in a new way. I experiment and do a lot of "Let's see what happens when I do this". It can be much of the same stuff, but with the time and effort to sort through it all, what is left is a little bit of magic that you have discovered in a familiar place. That's what pushes me forward.

With new skills and equipment, I finally brought my landscape techniques to the bay. The ability to stitch multiple images opened up new opportunities (2013).

After years of exploring the bay, I come with more attention to details. Discovering the various qualities of the bay (sky, water, mangroves, seagrasses) meant endless photo possibilities. Attempting to capture them in unique ways is what brings me back (2015).

White ibis rush hour over Biscayne Bay (2016)

"Yes, It's "Photoshopped. And the problem with that is...?"

The Final Image

I was listening to Youngman Brown's "Your Creative Push" interview with the digital artist, Mike Azevedo recently and something he said made me think of Photoshop's role in fine art photography. Mike shared that he often began a painting in Photoshop and would stop several minutes into it because it just didn't feel right. He might do that four or five times before he felt as if he finally got it and could continue digitally painting his vision. He said the process of "starting over" made him think about what went right and what went wrong. So consequently for the next painting, he could more easily avoid the wrong.

Straight out of the Camera Image 1

Straight out of the Camera Image 2

His description of making several false starts in the process of creating something made me think of a photographer's workflow in Photoshop and the role that Photoshop plays in the creation of a photograph. Unlike Mike Azevedo's paintings, a photograph already exists in a camera. But in no way has it yet been fully developed into what the artist is attempting to create. In this regard, Photoshop (or similar) is essential to the fine art photographer.

Step 1: Chromatic Aberration & Lens Distortion Removed

No one disputes the role of the darkroom in film photography, but yet the use of Photoshop has been so widely perceived as nothing more than a crutch for inexperienced or bad photographers; or worse, a method of willful deception. This perception really comes to light when a photograph is disdainfully described as "Photoshopped". But let's get real about this; currently, there is no camera that can capture a scene as our creative selves see it. For the fine art photographer, the process of creating an image only begins with the camera, it does not end with it.

Step 2: Blending two images, dodging/burning, minor cloning

Once the image is uploaded to the software, the development toward full maturity begins. The non-destructive nature of a RAW image file and Photoshop layers is an amazing thing for a fine art photographer. Unlike a painter that uses hard materials, a photographer's digital photo-editing studio allows an image to live on forever and in various forms at the same time. Mistakes made can be reversed with a touch of a button. Nothing is lost and often, images are duplicated. And nothing is final until the artist says it is.

Step 3: Curves Adjustment

As with Mike Azevedo  description of his work, I too have learned what works and what doesn't work through a great amount of trial and error. The learning never stops and the more skilled I am with Photoshop editing, the more capable I am as an artist. It always starts with a vision, but much work goes into making it happen. While I spend hours and days in the field going back to the same location in attempt to capture its most beautiful characteristics and moods, the work I put into an image at home is what pushes me closer to my artistic vision.

Step 4: Vibrance Adjustment

Step 5: Color Balance Adjustment

Long Lens for Landscapes

“Creativity is just connecting things. When you ask creative people how they did something, they feel a little guilty because they didn’t really do it, the just saw something. It seemed obvious to them after a while” – Steve Jobs

I drive the Tamiami Trail, one of Florida's scenic highway dozens of times a year. It is one of the easiest ways to view some of Florida's most beautiful landscapes. But, these are not eye-popping landscapes; and to say they are subtle is an understatement. Without mountains or colorful flowers to jump right out at you, photographing a Florida landscape can be challenging. But, I am always motivated to try!

First things first; think about what it is that attracts you to a scene in the first place. For me, lighting is 90% of it with these landscapes. With a warm morning or evening light, the textures and tones of the grasses are so beautiful and are complemented by the blue sky. Clouds are always a big draw and can really add to the composition. Additionally, water grabs my attention; particularly when clouds reflect. So those are the basic elements, subtle tones in warm light, big sky with clouds, water and reflections. And if I can throw in something else, like a nice tree, or bird, or colorful clouds, that's even better.

When I first ventured to photograph from the trail, it didn't take long to figure out that the best way to do it was with a long lens. Indeed, all my images were created with at least 70mm focal length and as high as 130mm (with the exception of the bird image above which was shot at 400mm). A long focal length works best with these scenes for several reasons. One is that there is no strong foreground elements or leading lines to work with. You have a very low lying landscape that melts into the very large sky. If you go wide (i.e.,16mm)  you take any object in the frame and make it smaller. Basically, whatever tree or cloud that has character will become insignificant. Unless you are going for minimalism, I find that zooming into the scene gives the grasses and water more character as they fill a greater portion of the frame. The layers of textures and tones become stronger and more obvious. Similarly, the clouds appear more dramatic and three-dimensional, as will their reflections.

I also find that vertical compositions work best. This allows me to isolate something more easily; a tiny grass island, a hardwood hammock or water reflections that can lead the eye into the scene and right up to the sky.

The long lens offers another advantage over a wider angle lens in that you get more depth of field. One day, I stopped along the road to photograph as the lighting and storm clouds were dramatic. I did not have my tripod (actually, it was the ballhead that I had forgotten!), so I handheld the camera with the 70-400mm lens and took this image. I set the aperture at f8 and focused on a spot about where the water ended. At home, I examined the image and found it to be relatively sharp throughout, including the tall palm trees. Not bad for handholding!

But what I prefer is tack sharpness throughout. While the image above is acceptable on one level, it is not my first choice. To get that sharpness throughout, I use an image stacking technique and multiple images. With camera on tripod (attached to the lens collar) and cable release, I set the aperture at f8, ISO at 100 or 200, and then set the shutter speed for correct exposure. I manually focus on the farthest vegetation (usually a tall tree that sticks out). I use magnification on the LCD to adjust the focus precisely. Then I take a shot. Next, I rotate the lens slightly to move the focus in closer and take another shot. I continue this until I have the closest foreground element in focus. For the scene below, I took six shots.

At home, I examine each one and pick only those that are sharpest near the focus point. With f8 aperture, I can get total sharpness with fewer images, like three or four. But I always start with more images, just for good measure. Then I load them as layers into Photoshop, auto-align and blend them. The results are great in that sharpness is revealed from the foreground to the background.

To compose an image, I move around and looks at the clouds and how they interact with the other elements in the frame. I should also say that I had a polarizing filter on the lens when I was shooting these palm hammock trees. This helps to add contrast and remove glare from the water. The sun was behind me and to my left, which is also an important consideration. If it had been directly behind me, the trees and clouds would look flat.

In a way, these scenes are a study in patterns and tones. For the last image below, I liked the horizontal path of the clouds, adding more layers to the scene. I placed the lens where the shadowed grasses would appear in the foreground, adding some depth to the scene. 

To summarize:

• Gear: tripod, long zoom lens (70-200mm would work great) and cable release
• Polarizer filter is very useful when shooting a couple hours or more after sunrise
• Early mornings or late evenings for better light
• Attach your long lens to the ballhead using the collar. This allows you to rotate the lens for horizontal and vertical shots.
• If you are shooting along side a road, be mindful of traffic, especially big trucks that will blow by quickly. This will cause your tripod to move, so weight it down or wait until there is no traffic to take your shot.
• Move around, look for the composition. Consider possible foreground elements.
• A simple rule to follow if you don't intend to focus stack, is to use an aperture with a wide depth of field (f8 to f16) and focus on something about one third from the bottom frame.

The next time you are driving on a scenic highway, get out and shoot!

Birds and Light

When photographing birds, there are many things to consider to create an image. For me, a successful image (one that I do not delete!) must meet several criteria. One of those criteria is good light. Because 99% of my bird photography is in the morning, I have to be an early riser. There is no getting around it, the best lighting occurs about 15-30 min following sunrise and lasts only about two hours. Those taken later in the morning are hit or miss.This is why I am in my canoe before sunrise so that I can arrive at the bird location at the right time.

To best illustrate this, I use the great white egret as an example. The first image below was shot at approximately 30 minutes after sunrise, about 7:15 am. Notice the white feathers appear warm and soft. The lighting is very pleasing with the sun relatively low in the sky. The clouds in the background really help make those feathers pop out!

The next image was taken about one hour following sunrise. The feathers appear somewhat warm, but not as much as the previous image. More shadows are evident on the feathers as the sun's angle is much higher.

Here's one taken about 1 1/2 hours after sunrise. As the sun continues to rise, I look for those shots where the bird's wings are in the most upright position to avoid shadowing.

This is also important when attempting to capture birds in flight. With the sun directs light down toward the top of the bird, the underside of the wings are shadowed. Since we are looking up at the wings, we see shadows and therefore, don't see the feather details. It simply is not attractive! Does this mean we have to put the camera away? Not necessarily. Here, I attempt to catch the bird as it banks or makes a turn so the underside of the wings face me. The sun will light up those beautiful feathers as seen in this next shot, taken about 2 hours following sunrise.

In contrast, beyond those first two hours following sunrise, lighting is more harsh, white feathers can easily be blown out and shadows become darker. At the rookery, I often photograph interactions between chicks and adults. Wings flap in all directions. Here's one taken about two hours after sunrise. With wings in the right position, shadowing is reduced and more manageable when I do my post-processing.

What happens after that first two hours? Here are two examples of why I rarely keep a shot taken late in the morning. Both were taken near 10 am, three hours following sunrise. Notice the sharp contrast on the feathers, from blown out whites to dark shadows. Feather detail is easily lost. In this lighting situation, wing and face position are critical, which is why these shots are hit or miss.

When I photograph birds, I want to create an image that illustrates their most beautiful feature, the feathers. Lighting is key to achieving this goal.

How do you get to Carnegie Hall?

Practice! It's an old joke, but it still makes me chuckle. And it applies to photography. "How can I get a shot like that"? Practice.

If you are serious about photography, than you already know that practice is essential. This means getting out there and shooting as often as possible. But it goes further than that. I believe you sometimes have to "stay in" and practice.

This is not new advice, but on those days you don't get out to shoot (too hot, too rainy, too tired, waiting for the Fedex guy), you can still get some quality practice time in. And I don't mean getting creative with abstract and setting up a little studio (food dye and water droplets, macro shots of a lugnut, oil and paint, you know what I mean). This is pretty cool stuff and can be fun, but I am talking about something more mundane and downright tedious. I am talking about running controlled tests on your equipment and shooting technique.

As an example, I really wanted to know which aperture on my camera and lens was the sharpest. You always hear about the sweet spot, but I wanted to find out for myself. So I set up the tripod and used spot focus on one specific object. As I adjusted the aperture, I maintained the exposure by first adjusting shutter speed and then again by adjusting the ISO. In other words, I had two shots at f8 to compare to two shots at f11 or f16, controlling for either ISO or shutter speed. Guess what I discovered? f8 reigns superior for spot on sharpness. But where it holds the sharpness, it loses depth of field, which under certain conditions may be a reason to compromise a little sharpness and go with, say f16. Here's a couple shots as examples. In the first one, the butterfly's wings and body are on the same plane and a great depth of field was unnecessary. I used f8 for this one to get the sharpest possible image. On the other hand in the second one, the spider's large body would not be entirely in focus if I had not used f16.

Here's another example. We are told to turn off image stabilization (IS) whenever the camera is on a tripod. Despite this common advice, it is still debated especially as IS technology advances. It's also been questioned whether IS really makes a difference when handholding a camera. So I wanted to test it for myself. I also wanted to test out my camera's auto-focusing technology for this experiment. So I compared all the auto-focus settings, and compared IS on to IS off (camera on tripod and camera off tripod). First of all, if you are handholding your camera, turn ON the IS! It really works! Even at fast shutter speeds like 1/500. Second, having IS off with the camera on a tripod improves sharpness ever so slightly. But, if you are like me and sometimes forget to turn it off when you set up your camera on the tripod, it will likely not be a deal breaker for your images. Good to know. The first image below was created using a 2-sec exposure with camera on tripod. I doubt anyone could really tell if IS was on or off. For the second image, handholding (on a monopod) a camera with telephoto lens to shoot a small moving subject requires IS and  precise spot focus on that butterfly's head.

I've done several other experiments and I won't bore you with the details. But here's what it has done for me. I have greater command over my camera and lenses when I am out in the field and don't have the convenience of figuring out which settings or equipment to use. I need to be ready and have the right set up for that decisive moment. I now go into the field armed with the knowledge that lens A will work better than lens B for a particular situation, I know the distance to set the focal point when shooting a landscape, I know when to stop down the aperture to gain more depth of field, I know the slowest shutter speed acceptable when handholding the telephoto lens, etc. Further, I know where to find all my camera's functions without having to hunt them down in the menu. Here's one where I changed the white balance on the fly while photographing this upside-down jellyfish to get the blue effect.

One last thing about these experiments. The experiment is not over until you run the results, which is to say you have to download all the images and examine them. If it is sharpness you are testing, you need to look at each image at 100%. In one experiment, I may have up to 50 images. How do I keep track of them? While much of the data are stored in each image, I use an additional means to remember, a voice recorder. I turn it on and leave it running. Simple.

You may not want to do all the experiments I have done, but I encourage you to spend some time getting to know your camera. Fumble with your camera at home, not when you have a great photo opportunity in front of you. Test out any new equipment before using it in the field. This includes tripods, ballheads, filters, extension tubes, lenses, all of it! Don't be intimidated by your camera, know it like the back of your hand. And be ready for "that shot" with the skills you have practiced. Here's one last image, shot while I sat in my canoe on Biscayne Bay.

It's Tough Being an Egret Parent

I took advantage of the calm mornings this past weekend and spent a couple days at the rookery. I launched minutes before sunrise and watched the bay come alive with birds in flight as I made the 1.5 mile trek across open water. As I paddled, the rising sun colored the distant storm clouds with orange and pink. Like clockwork, on both mornings I watched flocks of tri-colored herons fly toward me, sometimes coming within feet of my boat. The outer rookery islands appeared to be dusted with whiteness from a distance, but I knew the white was hundreds of ibises that roost at night and would soon take flight in unison. And what a sight to see as I approach the islands and look east toward the brilliant orange sky. There, the birds in flight speckled the sky with their silhouettes. On the openness of the bay, the birds are the morning show, a ritual of beauty that just takes your breath away. As I sat in my canoe surrounded by brilliant light and flying feathers, I wondered how so much bird life can be concentrated in one area for one person to witness.

In the meantime, the nesting brown pelicans and great white egrets were awakening to the day. As I approached, I saw several adults flying circles around the islands as they prepared for a long day; but mostly, everyone was resting somewhere in the densely populated mangroves. As I passed through the large opening between two islands, several roosting juvenile brown pelicans seemed to hold sentry duty, allowing me to pass with a wary eye. Perhaps this is an important job as these young birds are not yet ready for the hard work of nesting and raising chicks. But there are plenty of adults doing that job right now. I would not put money on it, but I bet there are well over one hundred pelican nests and just as many or more great white egret nests in the rookery. The success rate seems even more evident when I witness several nests with three healthy chicks vying for a meal from mom. Usually the third and smallest chick, last to be born, is ignored or much worse, killed by a sibling.

Competition among chick siblings is fierce to say the least. Having witnessed many times the interaction among them, it would be more appropriate to describe their lives as brutal. The statistics bear out this reality as only 1 out of 4 great white egret chicks survive the first year of life. When I visit the rookery several times during a season, it is a joy to watch them grow and eventually take flight. But all the same, it is a painful process. I am not sure whose life is more difficult, the chick or the parent. In between nest building, the parent must hunt for food, not only for itself, but for the chicks. This requires the parents to leave the nest for long periods at a time. At best guess, I believe the chicks are attended 24/7 by one or both parents until they reach a certain size. However, I see unattended chicks left alone for very long periods of time. By that time, they are big enough to move around independently and begin spreading their young wings.

When a parent comes back to the nest, perhaps several times a day to feed its chicks, the fun begins for this photographer. I placed my attention on a few nests and waited for the moment to arrive. As soon as the parent lands, the chicks begin an outlandish display of competition. Wings flap in all directions and beaks jab angrily at the air above. All this is happening as the parent stands upright, seemingly ignoring the little ones. But it is my thought that this stance is what allows food to be regurgitated. As soon as the adult is ready to transfer the food to a chick, one or two chicks grab the adult's beak and pull down. Razor sharp beaks are precariously intertwined as the chick's make a frenzied attempt to eat. After about 5 to 10 seconds, the adult pulls away from the hungry chicks and stands straight up. In a short time, the feeding frenzy begins again. This will go on several times until the adult finally makes its get-away, leaving the chicks alone once again.

This is the life of a nesting great white egret; the graceful symbol of the National Audubon Society, the bird that was once slaughtered almost to extinction for its priceless feathers, and perhaps the favorite bird of the artistic Florida Highwaymen. I have had the privilege to observe the first stages of a new generation of great white egret. From them, I have learned so much and hope that my photographs are worthy of their significant lives.

Too Many Birds!

Only kidding, there is never too many birds. Currently, a bird rookery that I have been visiting for eight years is in full throttle nesting activity. This rookery is primarily brown pelicans and great white egrets. Over the years, I have observed this rookery's ups and downs; some years seemed to do much better than others; at least if you go by numbers. In this regard, this year has proven to be the most successful with the greatest number of nests seen.

The rookery consists of several small mangrove islands within an area about half the size of a football field. Right now, if you sit in a canoe and look squarely at one of the largest mangrove islands, you will notice about 8 to 10 nests that are obvious because of the large size of the chicks. If you sit there long enough, you will notice that their are about twice that many nests, only the chicks are much smaller and less obvious. Sometimes you don't see it until an adult flies in and you may catch a glimpse of a young one's beak pointing upward toward momma. Here's one image of an area of the mangroves where the brown pelican has staked its claim. There are at least three nests in view. As with almost all of the images presented here, this one is cropped to isolate the birds.

Great white egret and pelican chicks grow very quickly and before a chick fledges, it looks very much like an adult in size. Typically, I see two or three chicks to a nest, but this year, I have spotted a few nests with as many as four chicks. There is a scientific  hypothesis called "brood reduction" that helps explain why not all chicks survive the nest. I wrote about it five years ago and you can read that here. So when I observe these nests, it is with the knowledge that not all of them will make it to the fledgling stage. What I look for is an adult that flies into her (or his) nest to feed the waiting chicks. When this happens, the chicks become very active, wings flapping, beaks open and attempting to reach mom. I look for a scene that gives a clear view of the the birds' beaks and eyes, such as the two below.

I also look for some wing spread, particularly from the adult that stands over her chicks, such as this scene. I like to see the sun light on the underside of those wings as well.

It is basically nesting chaos right now and attempting to capture that cleanly has proven to be nearly impossible. When chicks are being fed, it can be a confusing scene of feathers and beaks. For example, here's a mom attempting to feed one of her chicks while the other two look on.  The next image illustrates two pelican chicks being feed. It is always the case that one chick is fed at a time, so imagine the competition. There is almost always a dominate chick, a middle one and a smaller one that seems to always hang in the background.

I prefer a clear background, so I look for the highest sitting nests where I can get the sky behind the bird, unlike the two images above. Here's an example of a penthouse nest. I also try to avoid lots of foreground branches and leaves that will compete with the action.

Another view I try to capture are the wings of the chicks as they exercise their wings. In between feedings, the nestlings are often moving around in the nest. They may begin venturing farther away from the nest and start flapping their wings as a strengthening exercise, such as this little one.

Here's one showing a nest with some fuzzy chicks in the foreground. One of them was quite active and I tried to capture its wings, but this is about as good as it got. You can't see them here but there are brown pelicans all around, plus the two larger chicks in the background. I waited for the brown pelicans to settle down behind the mangroves; but isolating the little chick with a wing spread was a test.

Regardless of the frustration that comes with attempting to photograph nesting egrets and pelicans, I continue to visit them as often as I can. Sometimes, I put my camera away and simply watch. If that is all I can do, I will be happy. Happy to see the birds thriving.