Clouds

All posts tagged Clouds

I admit it: I really haven’t been all that busy this year from a travel perspective, so I don’t really have much of an excuse for not blogging. I’ve only had a handful of trips away from home and the family, and those have all been moderate in length. However it’s still been a pretty interesting year so far, and it ain’t over yet. Here’s a little photographic synopsis:

We started the year with a trip on the Murray River in Echuca, with good friends of ours who own a boat and a couple of wakeboards. At that time of year, the river is warm (but muddy) and reasonably crowded, but if you get out during the hottest part of the day, most people are cowering indoors and you can get some beautiful runs in. This is T doing his stuff.

A work trip to South Africa was followed by a long weekend trekking the bays and clifflines of glorious Wilson’s Prom, on Victoria’s southern coast.

From there, I had myself another work trip, this one out to Kenya, followed by a detour into South Sudan. That was pretty much the last time you really heard from me on this blog, here, here and here

On my way back, I joined the family in Thailand for a bit of a well-needed break from the southern hemisphere winter, where we pretty much threw Magic into the pool and let her splash around for ten days while we slept. It was a very nice pool though…

I had a couple of trips cancelled after that, so I spent a considerable amount of time hanging out in Australia with the family, which was actually lovely and refreshing. I also hung out at pirate-themed parties…

…and aquariums…

My latest work trip took me to the US, where I was able to swing past Arizona to visit friends

Then to our training base in the backwoods of the Florida panhandle

Before wrapping it all up in Savannah, GA, with a visit with more friends, and a bit of time on the beach.

I’ve got more adventures coming up, but I’ll fill you in on them as the time draws near. Which shouldn’t be too long now, God willing.

In the meantime, I’ve more photos to share from my collection this year which I hope you’ll enjoy, and before long hope to have this blog back up to full steam again.

Peace out

-MA

Photos:

1. Clouds above Atlanta

2. Wakeboarding in Echuca, VIC

3. T lays down some spray

4. Fairy Cove, Wilson’s Prom, VIC

5. Kilimanjaro & Kenyan hill-country

6. Resort Living, Phuket, Thailand

7. X marks the birthday party, arrr

8. Viewers at the Melbourne Aquarium

9. Saguaro cactus, Pheonix, AZ

10. Sunlight catching in pine forest, northern Florida

11. Dune grass beneath a moody sky, Tybee Island, GA

I shot this time lapse video from our place yesterday as a severe thunderstorm system moved across Melbourne. It was shot at an interval of 12 seconds, over a four-hour period. About 20 seconds into the movie you can see where the cold front moves across the sky from left to right. As it does, it condenses water from the warm, muggy air that’d been sitting over us for several days, forming a very dynamic band of cloud that looks like the underside of a breaking wave. Even in real-time it was one of the most dramatic cloud formations I’ve ever watched, moving and developing extremely quickly. A very exciting evening.

While I’ve not been quite as prolific a photographer during the first half of this year (something I’m looking to change), I have managed to break my camera out a few times. And likewise, although my travel schedule has been light-on, I’ve popped up here and there to get a few images that I feel are worth sharing from around the place. Once again, I’ll let the images do most of the talking.

These first few are from the East Coast of the South Island, a ways north of Kaikoura. We were blown away by the beauty of this little pocket of the country. I’ve travelled pretty much every corner of New Zealand, with only one or two exceptions, and this was one of those exceptions. A winding coastal road clings to the rocks and cliffs along this rugged coastline, with dramatic breakers on one side, steep hillsides rising to mountains on the other. The weather was glorious and the scenery rich. I’d go back in a heartbeat.

We found this little church and it’s environs along the same stretch. The churches around Christchurch and northwards are beautiful and would be well worth a photography excursion on their own merit.

Another area of fresh exploration for me was Golden Bay. This exquisite pocket of the South Island, along the north-western tip, is a lfiestyle haven with delightful scenery and a rugged, secluded feel out of the main township areas. We did a short walk to Wainui Falls to one of the more dramatic waterfalls I’ve seen for a few years (partly due to Victoria’s general rainfall scarcity).

The bush walk up is lovely, but the falls make it totally worth the effort. Heavy and gushing and surrounded by dripping temperate rainforest, it’s a gorgeous spot to explore.

Heading northwards through the middle of the North Island and it’s so-called desert centre, we stopped on a windy afternoon for a view of Mt. Ruapehu across the barren plains. Wind-tossed wildflowers made for a nice inclusion into the frame on the first shot.

Catapulting west a considerable distance, I snapped these images of downtown Cape Town, South Africa, from my hotel window. Just to mix it up a little.

And finally, a weekend break took us down the Great Ocean Road here in Victoria, where we came across this little waterfall at the end of a roadside footpath into the Otways. One of the under-rated treasures of Australia, the Great Ocean Road is full of pathways and corridors through the bush to explore, and could be mined for weeks for little gems like this one.

More to come as the camera gets out for more walks…

I took this shot deliberately while I was framing up different angles of the Split Point Lighthouse in Airey’s Inlet, along Victoria’s southern coastline. On an earlier exposure I could see the different light-sources colouring the image, and it appealed to me greatly.

There are five different sets of light in the image. Balancing them was part of the joy of the photograph.

To the left, and a bushfire burning over the northern horizon behind a crest of hills was reflecting its light onto the clouds above. The wide angle of the lens (about 120 degrees) captured the clouds over that portion of the sky and the red-orange glow which they soaked up.

Moving to the right and the lower horizon, the light transitions gently from orange to yellow. These are the man-made sodium-tainted lights of Geelong, also catching in the clouds. The transition and contrast between the two colours really caught my eye, and I liked the way the sky took on the different hues.

Above both, of course, are the stars- tiny pinpricks of light which the massive eye of the 16-35mm lens was able to pick up in just half a minute or so of exposure. I shot with the aperture stopped wide open (f/2.8) and at maximum sensitivity (ISO 1600), and with the relative lack of ambient light (nearby towns and moonlight) the stars shone through brightly. I especially like the blue hues of the bright star just to the left of the top centre- possibly not a star at all but the planet Venus? But I’m not sure.

Next, of course, is the artificial light of the still-functioning lighthouse beacon- a yellow-white light tinted red where the red glass of the lighthouse window catches in the beam. This light was in a way the hardest to expose for, being the brightest of all (by many orders of magnitude, at that proximity). The saving grace was the fact that while the other lights were constant, the lighthouse beam flashed on and off, with long periods of darkness between, so that while overall it was still the brightest light in the sky and the limiting factor on how long I could leave the shutter open for before it burned out that portion of the frame, I was still able to get up to a minute’s worth of usable exposure when I wanted it.

There is a fifth light source in the image which is far subtler, and that’s the light which is painting the side of the lighthouse. If not for this light (catching on the left-hand or land-facing side of the lighthouse), the whole tower would be a black silhouette of the same level as the right-hand (sea-facing) side of the column. The light illuminating the lighthouse tower is in fact from the headlights of cars passing on the Great Ocean Road a couple of miles away in either direction, where the lighthouse’s high vantage allows it to capture brief seconds of light from cars turning exposed corners of the route. As I was shooting, the faint glow of the lights could be seen moving from left to right or right to left across the inland face of the tower, casting mobile shadows which turn into a gently graduated glow in the static frame.

Photography quite literally means the writing (or recording) of light. Ultimately it’s the photographer’s job to read the light coming from a particular scene, and try and capture that light through a balance of variable mechanisms within the camera itself- the size and type of lens, the aperture of that lens, the length of time the sensor/film/plate is exposed for, the sensitivity of that sensor/film/plate, and the addition of any other artificial light sources. Framing up a shot with a diverse range of light sources can be a challenge (although a joy of the digital photography revolution is the fact that there is some room for experimentation and instant feedback)- but when the pieces fall into place (as I humbly feel they have done so here) it’s an immensely satisfying experience. This particular shoot (I spent 2 nights up at this lighthouse taking these photos) was an absolute joy and goes into my list of memorable photo ops.

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One of my favourite things about road trips is not so much the destination (although these can be great fun), but the journey.  And I’m not just talking about the process (although I do love that too- driving new terrain is a favourite past-time, and if the company is good (and here it was spectacular) then the whole thing is a happy medley).  I’m talking about the opportunity just to stop willy-nilly and enjoy whatever surprises the landscape has to offer.

Given that we drive a fairly large portion of Tasmania in our six-day circuit, these little surprises were a regular feature of the journey.  I’ve already showcased one such little surprise, the church in the field, in Buckland.  Here’s a smattering more.

Those who know my photography by now have worked out that I’m an absolute sucker for road shots.  Love ‘em.  The way they lead the eye, teasingly, across a landscape, or into a vanishing point, giving both a visual sense of motion, and a soulful sense of travelling.  They’re reminiscent as subjects of the very feeling they evoke- that of moving from one place to another.  And, of course, they’re the archetypal road-trip image.  Can’t go wrong.

I snapped the top image of a road snaking down through gentle country somewhere an hour or two north of Hobart, coming down off the Great Western Tiers.  The contrast between bright fields and somewhat patchy sky add drama to the view, and the road guides the viewer through the scene.

In a similar vein, on our second day we found ourselves south of Swansea on the way up the east coast, beneath a dark and brooding sky which threatened rain at every turn.  The road was largely empty of traffic and the mood was quite desolate in its own way.  Tassie was drier than either of us were expecting, and the fields were full of yellow-white grass which was a lovely counterpoint to the dark clouds.  I took a little detour into a field we were passing (which required an involved negotiation of a pair of barbed wire fences at the bottom of a little ditch- quite the delicate operation with an expensive DSLR camera and associated lenses…) to frame up this shot of a gum tree in a field, accompanied by a cattle track.  The otherwise-dull light was made more interesting by upping the contrast and saturation for a somewhat artificial but (in my humble opinion) engaging image.  This next image was snapped feet away in a different direction, and turned into a high-contrast black-and-white photo to emphasize the mood of the gusty wind in the hay.

Sometimes the light just works out, even when you’re not in any particular location, and this can make the simplest of subjects turn quite dramatic.  Part way through an afternoon sprint across the north of the island, the blue sky was dripping with saturated colour behind my polarizing filter, transforming quite the ordinary tree in the ordinary field at the roadside into a set of photographs worth indulging in:

Given my exhortation of road photography above, the next two images need no justification, save to point out that they were taken about forty-five minutes outside Launceston in some beautiful countryside, again beneath that un-ignorably blue sky.  The clouds were a great balance to break up the texture above.

Meanwhile, this next landscape was taken at near-full zoom standing in almost exactly the same spot as the above two photos (perhaps a little off to one side to avoid passing trucks)- but shot at right-angles out towards the line of hills in the middle distance.  The landscape was one I could have explored for far longer had I the time.

And finally, on the same afternoon but a couple of hours and several hundred k’s further on, these two shots of Mt. Roland were begging to be taken.  In the first shot in particular I loved the faint rows of cut grass leading the eye up to the mountain.  The blue sky against the green fields and that textured rock made this a shot I was really chuffed with.

All up, lots of great touring to be had in Tasmania.  Destinations aside, I’m pretty sure I could go back and just drive around taking photos of random aspects.  That’s the sort of place Tasmania is.  We basically spent six days looking out of the car window going- ‘oh wow, isn’t that beautiful!’  You may have noticed, but this is the nth post I’ve put up now exhorting you to go visit.  Taken the hint yet?  Get there!

Up soon: Wineglass Bay

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Note: The two photographs featured in this article are available for purchase in a range of formats here and here.

This photo of Wineglass Bay on Tasmania’s Freycinet Peninsula was taken using an extremely slow shutter-speed of 80 seconds.  With most cameras you won’t be able to keep the shutter open for 80 seconds without a) ending up with stacks of motion blur and b) ending up with a completely white image (because too much light reached the sensor).  In fact in broad daylight shooting at ISO100 and a normal 35mm (or digital equivalent) camera, you probably won’t be able to keep the shutter open for more than about 1/10th of a second without ending up with some serious overexposure issues; most of the time in sunlight I’m shooting at 1/250 and f/8, or thereabouts.

The joy of long exposure is the way in which moving elements either disappear (they don’t stay long enough in one place for the light they reflect to register on the sensor) or, if repetitive or slow moving, become blurred.  Here, while the beach and the mountains behind are static and remain relatively sharp (sadly the gusting wind meant that a little fuzziness crept in to the frame), you can see that the clouds have streaked into long wispy things, and the sea has mellowed out into a soupy azure mist.

I get this effect (one which I’m very fond of but don’t generally have much time to invest in or perfect, hence the scarcity- and frequently, paucity- of images in this style in my portfolio) by using a Neutral Density filter.  ND filters, as I’ve discussed elsewhere, are effectively colourless grey (hence ‘neutral’) gels of varying darkness that fit in front of the lens.  They come in a range of values, the most common being ND2, ND4, ND8, ND50 and ND400.  The numbers relate to the darkening factor- an ND2 halves the amount of light as would normally enter the lens, an ND8 lets in 1/8th as much light, and so forth.

The above shot was taken with my favourite and oh-so-subtle ND400.  I’ve always figured if you’re going to go for an effect, you might as well go the whole hog.  That basically means that just 1 in 400 photons that would normally reach my filterless sensor can get through the gel, or in other words, the image is 400 times darker- and the shutter needs to be open 400 times longer than in normal conditions to get the same exposure value.  To add to the effect, I’ve shot at f/22 (the smallest aperture) and stacked the ND with the polarizer to get more colour, and to stretch out my time window as long as possible to magnify the blurring effect.  It goes without saying that I had to trek my tripod onto the beach to get this image.

I’m moderately pleased with the output here.  The colours are great, though the frame was slightly overexposed, and as mentioned above the gusting wind knocked the tripod about a bit so I didn’t end up with as crisp an image as I might have liked (click the photo to see it larger).  I do truly love the effect, although shooting such a calm waterfront on such a wide-angled lens meant that the relatively gentle waves washing on shore didn’t make for as dramatic an image as a rougher sea would have done, where large portions of the beach would have been turned to mist.

Landscape photographers with a penchant for water features make use of the ND filters a lot, though generally the lighter filters (ND8, for example) which allow for just a second or two of exposure, giving the water that lovely milky texture you find on some of those wall-prints that people who actually get paid for their photography tend to produce (should I be learning something here?).  I really want to take more time and apply the neutral density technique more widely.  Unfortunately once you find an appropriate subject in the right light, it then takes time to set up the tripod, prefocus, set the camera up for long-exposure (turn off Auto-focus and Image Stabilization), get the polarizer set up, then add the ND filter (without altering the polarizer-because once the ND is on you can’t see anything through the lens- it’s too dark), plug in the cable-release, and so-forth.  It takes a couple of minutes to re-set for each shot, and in changing light you don’t get much leeway for making mistakes- especially when you really have to guesstimate the amount of time to leave the shutter open (with the ND400 stacked with a polarizer at f/22, usually between 45 and 90 seconds, depending on the light).

That’s a lot of talk about what is a pretty niche little application of some fairly uncommon photographic gear.  For those of you who have read this far- congratulations!  I appreciate your commitment.  For the rest of you, I hope you liked the photo at the top of this post before you got bored.  To reward you, here’s another shot- the same vantage, but this time shot with a 1-second exposure (by opening up the aperture to let more light in) rather than 80 seconds.

I have to confess I didn’t really start paying much attention to the sky until I started taking photographs.  Now I can’t get enough of it.

As a landscape photographer- and even taking portraits- what the sky is doing is paramount to the end result of your photograph.  Once upon a time I figured blue skies (ideally ramped with a nice polarizing filter) were the bees knees when it came to taking a nice scenery shot.  I’ve since learned that the variety of clouds you can get- especially on a sunny day- is delightful and can add depth, texture and contrast to a photograph, and make the difference between a postcardy-type of holiday snap, and a truly stand-out image you’d like to hang on your wall.  Best of all is when cloud formations line up to mirror part of your landscape or draw the eye to your point of focus.

Sometimes, the sky itself can be a fascinating enough subject.  The array of cloud formations and styles is quite literally endless and changes every few seconds with the wind and the changing light- it is quite simply impossible to take two photos of the sky that are identical, and for that the potential is infinite.

Other times it’s nice to frame a little something against the sky just to add a dash of interest, as I’ve done with a couple of these shots.  It really depends what’s available, and what adds to an image rather than distracting from the cloudforms.

Of course, shooting clouds at sunset is reminiscent of fish and barrels.  As light passing through ever-thickening atmosphere is variously refracted into prismatic shades of the visual electromagnetic spectrum, the painting on the sky is invariably magical, and some of my most satisfying outdoors shots have been taken at dawn or dusk.

This is just a little sampler of some of the sky-focused images I’ve taken over the last couple of years.  Lots more to come, I assure you.

Photo Descriptions:

1. Cumulus clouds build up on a steamy summer’s afternoon outside Pretoria, South Africa.  It stormed later.

2. Dawn cloudscape in the South Australian outback, along the Oodnadatta Track.

3. Is that the Cat in the Hat?  Wispy formation hangs over Melbourne’s Central Business District.

4. Gumtree sky: A variety of cloudforms drift over Victoria’s Yarra Ranges near Warburton.

5. Skytrain: Clouds hang behind a crossing sign marking the abandoned Old Ghan railway line across South Australia’s outback near the Oodnadatta Track.

6. Suburban dystopia: Clouds blur above a power line, one of zillions in Melbourne’s eastern suburbs.  Shot with a neutral density filter (ND8) to give several seconds’ worth of exposure in broad daylight, hence the apparent motion in the sky.

7 & 8. Stormy monsoonal clouds soak up setting sunrays over the Indian Ocean off the coast of Sri Lanka’s capital Colombo.

9. Speckles of fluffy cloud spot a rich blue sky behind a Brisbane apartment tower.

10. The twin towers of Melbourne’s Bolte Bridge are backlit against a sunset cloudscape.

11. A stream of condensed exhaust pours from a factory stack in Melbourne’s industrial westlands near Williamstown.

12. Rich hues dance in the fading light of Sri Lanka’s monsoon season.

#Country Lane

Touring through Western Australia, I steeled myself for the worst, photographically speaking.  The forecast offered us four days of back-to-back frontal rain systems.  That meant falling water (never good for lenses and camera electronics) and grey skies.  And while I have nothing against grey skies per se, they tend to make landscapes flat and dull.

That’s not to say cloudy skies can’t be interesting.  On the contrary, depending on what you’re after they can be great.  As with mist (see the earlier post on flowers), what clouds do (as far as light is concerned) is a) reduce light (we know this) and b) scatter light.  The tiny water molecules act as little prisms that bounce light in all sorts of directions, so that although we look at a grey sky and go “oh, what a dark sky”, in fact a cloudy sky has far more light coming off it than a blue sky (which gives very little light off, as all the light is fleeing straight out the atmosphere and into space).  (Of course, when we’re really lucky, the raindrops really do act as prisms, splitting sunlight as it refracts into its different wavelengths, and giving us a rainbow, one of those rare and ethereally beautiful additions that, if you can catch them on camera, can make a shot really special).

The landscaper’s dilemma is this: Light reflects differently off the land and off the sky.  On the whole, there is less light coming off the land, and more light coming off the sky.  A photographer can expose a frame so that the land is perfectly exposed, but then as a rule the sky will be overexposed (bright and burned out), or can expose a frame so that the sky is well exposed, but then the land will be underexposed (dark and without detail).  On a sunny day with a blue sky shooting away from the sun, this contrast is minimised- there’s extra light on the ground, and not much light in the sky.  Throw in a polarizer, and you cut out even more glare from the sky, and can get a really nicely balanced shot for both sky and land.  The flip-side of this is on a really grey day, when there’s almost no sun on the ground, but lots of light scattering randomly in the clouds, so the difference between ground and sky is exacerbated.  These are the landscapes that, quite frankly, suck.  Either a landscape you can see clearly but which is flat, set in front of a white sky (a lot of shots in the tropics come out like this), or a sky that is dark and moody and brooding, in front of which is a landscape so dark as to be largely meaningless.

Country Landscape

You can do a few things to manage this.  If the clouds are exciting, you can chose to sacrifice the foreground in favour of the sky, get a really textured cloudscape, and end up with silhouettes in the foregound.  To make this work, you really need to pick something interesting as a silhouette, however.  Things that are fairly close, interestingly shaped, and stand out prominently from the horizon work best.  So interestingly-shaped trees (usually alone), water towers, peculiarly-shaped buildings, basically anything tall and oddly-shaped, will work well here.  A range of mountains, or a forest, or a city street, probably won’t.  You need to pick your subject.

#Country Windmill 4

You can also use what is called a Graduated Neutral Density filter (GND).  These are grey (neutral) coloured filters that go gradually from being dark at the top to clear at the bottom.  By placing the filter appropriately in front of the glass, you can make the sky appear darker, therefore creating a better balance in the difference in light values coming off sky and ground, and getting shots where the ground is well exposed, and the sky doesn’t burn out and lose all its textures.  You can apply these on the camera itself as a gel filter, or you can apply these in post-processing using something like Photoshop or Lightroom.  Either way, this technique works best for landscapes with a relatively flat horizon.  Anything sticking up above the horizon- a tree, or a house- will get darkened as well, and the subtlety of the effect will be lost.

#Cloudy Field 2

The third option is (in my humble opinion) the funnest- but it also requires luck and patience.  The challenge of taking photos on a cloudy day is that the ground is underlit, and there’s too much light in the sky.  However on a day where the cloud cover is a little patchy, you might just get lucky enough that a stray sunbeam will light up the foreground you want to shoot, giving you enough light to expose for the ground, while the background remains dark and brooding.  I say fun, because the effect, visually, can be so dramatic.  And fun, because you often have only a few seconds to line up the shot you want and get it while the light remains.  You do a lot of running.  And if you’ve got a photo buddy, some shouting too.  And there’s more than a dash of disappointment when that sky closes back in just as you’ve got your frame set up, and you realise there’s no more light coming your way for another half hour.

#Stirling Highway 3

This is why I like natural-light photography.  Light is a one-off.  You’ll never get the same arrangement of photons bouncing off your subject in quite the same way again.

The frontal cloud systems we had in WA were perfect for this latter game.  Strong winds were blowing the clouds overhead at dozens of miles an hour and faster, and we could watch the sunbeams chasing eachother across the hills.  I was shooting with Pam, and was doing a little tutorial on landscape photography and light at the same time, which was [allegedly] good for her, and good for me as well, as I find you never learn anything quite so well as when you teach it yourself.  The effect the shifting light had on the subject was so dramatic that we had object lessons in front of us in the space of five minutes that it might have taken a week in less varying lighting conditions to dry and demonstrate.

#Stirlings Pam 2

There are, of course, as many ways to shoot a landscape as there are landscapes and photographers to shoot them.  I don’t wish to negate anybody else’s efforts.  However I hope that if you’ve been trying to take photos of landscapes under a grey sky and been disappointed with the results, the above gives you food for thought the next time you head out with camera in hand.  Good hunting.

#Rainbow Bay 2

Photos:

1. Country Lane: Open fields and a track, somewhere between the Stirling Ranges and the Porongorups.  The clouds were doing a pretty good job of obscuring the landscape and in fact sixty seconds later had closed in for good for the evening (notice the shadow encroaching on the bottom left-hand corner)- but I managed to get this last shot of the fleeting foreground light and the balance worked nicely to give strong colours on the ground, but plenty of depth in the sky.

2. Nameless: An obscure and pointless shot of scrubland.  The sky is nicely textured, but with no light on the foreground, it’s just a tangled mess largely devoid of interest.

3. Windmill Silhouette: There wasn’t much light on the windmill and water-tower in the foreground, so I went the whole hog and underexposed the shot, giving a dark sky with plenty of texture in those three-dimensional clouds, but leaving just the outline of the subjects in the fore.  Shooting against the sky (or against a low, flat horizon works just as well) keeps them distinct and uncluttered for a good composition, and it’s important to make sure that when you underexpose for silhouettes in more average lighting conditions such as these, that you do it all the way and the subject goes black.  If you leave any detail in the subject it just looks like you didn’t do your exposure correctly and it distracts.  Note the difference in impact between this shot and the 2nd- here it’s all about subject and composition, as the lighting is almost identical (as is the location- one was shot at 90 degrees from the other).

4. The Impending Storm: There was plenty of lightning in the sky that chased us to Margaret River that afternoon.  Here I applied a Graduated Neutral Density Filter in post-processing, which meant that colour was retained in the ground, but the sky didn’t burn out and instead stayed really dark and brooding.  It’s worth noting that if you’re applying a GND on the camera, you darken the sky, but if you’re applying it in post-processing, it’s easier to lighten an underexposed shot than to darken an overexposed one, so it’s best to shoot dark and capture the sky, and then reverse the effect and lighten the foreground instead.

5. Stirling Highway Cloudscape: Here was another roulette of a photoshoot, where the passing clouds were obscuring the highway every couple of minutes, and a bit of patience and good luck was required for the whole landscape to come good.  Worth the wait, however, as the combination of bright sun on red dirt and green bush, some patchy light on the hills, the road running across nowhere and the textured, nicely balanced sky all came together nicely for this shot.  In my opinion a landscape photograph should always be the combination of a landscape and a skyscape.  You can’t have one without the other.

6. Bringing it All Together: Pam puts theory to the test as we get a fleeting flash of light on the red soils of the Stirling Ranges (and on Pam as well) while the sky overhead stays grey and foreboding.  Notice how dramatic the mood is- it’s an unusual combination of bright light and dark sky, which lends itself well to eye-catching shots if you can pull it off.  Well worth waiting for.

7. The Luck Factor: I couldn’t have (and didn’t) plan for this shot, but it nicely illustrates the combination of technique, and sheer providence.  Dark clouds and rain had blotted out this shoot at Mandalay Beach, but as we were leaving, stray beams of light started to punch through, giving rise to this rainbow.  You can see that the clouds are heavy and low, without much light in them, but (as per my shadow) the beach has been struck by strong sunlight from behind- a perfect opportunity.  By exposing for the much-brighter foreground, I was able to keep the sky really dark, maintaining mood and texture, and also catching all the colour of that beautiful rainbow.  This sort of shot, though, I can’t take without a little help from the Creator…  :)

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The other week I went down with friends to Sorrento Ocean Beach.  It was mid-June, and in true Victoria fashion, the weather was changeable and shifty, so that when the sun was out it was warm enough to strip down to t-shirt, and when the clouds rolled across its face and the wind blew, you were hugging your jacket.  I took the camera for a walk to see if I could get some landscapes, and I got a handful, but the light was a long way from ideal, so I quickly called it a day.

However the same flat light which makes landscapes a bit dull is ideal for portraiture.  Strong sunlight gives faces angles and contrast, while softer light, especially diffused through a thin cloud layer, is just what you’re looking for; there’s a reason flashguns often have a diffuser on the front.  It gives enough light on the foreground to make subjects stand out, but little enough that features look smooth and natural.

I was with friends J. and A., and A.’s four-year-old daughter, M., who spent most of her time climbing up rocks and waiting to get helped down, exploring caves and holes in the rocky foreshore.  She also succeeded in misjudging one leap and landing two feet into a rockpool (I take considerable blame for this), and managed a pretty impressive tumble down a series of rock platforms (she and I are clearly kindred spirits on some level).  While the tumble did trigger tears for several minutes, the beauty of children and their frustratingly short attention-span is that before too long, the tears and their cause were forgotten, and life went on.  I think we big important grown-ups could learn a lot from our youthful little counterparts…

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I had fun shooting with A. and M.  M. is completely comfortable with the camera and didn’t pay too much attention, and they were both really good sports about my photography addiction.  I like natural, spontaneous shots first and foremost, but on a couple of occasions mum and daughter lined themselves up nicely and I had to ask them to hold their positions for a few seconds while I reeled off a couple of shots.  I was shooting with my beloved 85mm f/1.8 , a standoff lens ideal for candid and natural-looking portraits, and when it’s wide open, the bokeh is delicious- crisp, sharp detail on the subject and a beautifully-blurred background.

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It still takes me a bit of courage to delve into the world of portrait photography.  It helps having friends like these who let me practice on them, and I hope that over time it’ll become more natural and comfortable for me.  For any other aspiring photographers out there who want to get into portraiture, I can’t stress how important having the right equipment is.  Most compact cameras focus far too slowly and inaccurately to be able to fire off spontaneous spur-of-the-moment portraits at that beautiful moment when everything works right, while shooting with wide-angle lenses that distort features or low-quality zoom lenses that blur the moment the light drops off a smidgen will tend to frustrate and discourage.  I have found both with my 60mm f/2.8 and 85mm 1.8 that having a fast, responsive lens with narrow depth-of-field has made portraits a joy, and almost every portrait I feel proud of has come from these lenses.

Now stop reading, get out there, and start shooting!

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Photos:

1. Mum and daughter pose atop a rocky rise beneath a windswept moody sky.

2. M. works on her ‘Supergirl’ pose.

3. A. & M. pause on the rocks in front of the southern ocean.  One of those shots which turns out almost exactly how you wanted it to.

4. M. gets a spin from J. on the foreshore.

5. Scrambling on the rocks.

Thanks J., A. and M. for being such good sports!  :)

I can’t swim in the sea here, because the undertow is apparently too dangerous, but the view from the hotel seawall more than makes up for being left high and dry.

This series of shots was taken over a twenty-minute period as the light changed after the sun had set. If I had my tripod with me I probably could have stretched the exposure out even longer, but as it was I was largely shooting hand-held (so the pics may not be the sharpest).  The monsoon light really makes the skyscapes here something special.

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