Gary Crabbe / Enlightened Images

Picture: Footprints in the sand on beach at sunset, Golds Bluff Beach, Redwood National Park, Humboldt County, California

Long time readers of this blog will know about some of my own personal incidents that happened over the last 12 months, and how I expressed their impact on my life perspective.

Yesterday, I found myself, aware only after the fact, that I was the last person to see someone alive, taking their last steps on the planet. I’ve been fully engulfed in my current book project, trying to avoid any mental distractions. This included much of the social media aspects that I find so enjoyable, yet so distracting. Then came a knock on the door yesterday morning. It was the local police.

I won’t go into the details, but the tragic result was that one of our neighbors, in an apparently depressed and drunken rage, had taken her own life. All I could think about for the rest of the day was her two great teenage kids that she left behind. The daughter even babysat our kids on numerous occasions. I was swept with such a deep wave of sadness for them, that I could do practically nothing else but pace the house with my stomach in a knot. My brain raced for much of the day, wondering what must have been in this woman’s mind, to be so deep in despair as to not consider what she would be leaving behind, namely her kids, and the impact her actions would have on them for the rest of their lives.

As we go through life, we are always leaving a little bit of our legacy behind us; big or small, subtle or blatant. The actions we take will always impact others, for better or worse. It’s the unavoidable web of life. But the effect of a suicide on a family is the biggest, hugest, most avoidable impact, and the saddest legacy anyone could ever leave behind.

I really should be working now. But I felt absolutely compelled to share this story, and encourage anyone that may feel like checking themselves out to please, please, please – reach out and talk to someone. Think about the effect that kind of action would have on the one’s you leave behind. There is always another answer, and a better option.

Picture: Interior of the Iron Door Saloon, est. 1852; the oldest continuously operating saloon in the state, Groveland, California

I admit my frustration level has been met and exceeded. For nearly a decade working with Galen Rowell, running his stock department, I dealt with clients of every level, including editors at just about every major magazine and ad agency in the country. I prided myself on my professionalism. I know how to present myself. It’s not like I’m some newbie / wannabe whose closest publication credit is posting images on flickr. Even when doing my previous books, whenever I’d call or email someone saying I’m working on such and such project, I’d almost always get a warm, welcoming, and helpful response.

However, with my current book project, the minute I tell people (or they sense) that it’s a history book, they fall asleep. They turn off. They tune out. They switch off their radar. It’s like you suddenly become a non-important entity. In all of my career, I’ve never experienced anything like this. But it’s happened so often, among so many people at so many levels, that I’m now 1000% convinced that it’s purely related to the history aspect. Sure, there are still people that are nice and helpful, or that reply quickly. But so many of people that I’ve been in touch with, or attempted to contact, have either not responded at all, or replied once, and then I couldn’t get anything further out of them. It’s like I asked them to come in and voluntarily have some of their teeth pulled.

I just don’t get it. With some of them I just say “fine” and they’re not in my book. Others I really want to include, but after a half dozen attempts to contact them, I just can’t afford to waste more time chasing windmills.

Woof!

Picture: Bidwell Mansion, Chico, California

I tended to include “No HDR” with many of my landscape images posted online. I heard too many people say, “great use of HDR” at a time when I never used any automated HDR process on my images. Not long ago, I finally experimented with a few HDR shots. The first was a test shot of a nearby mountain, and more recently I did a comparison between an HDR and Manual Blend at the entrance to a cave.

Now I’ve done it. I’ve made my first official HDR image, and frankly, I’m pretty happy with it. Reason one: it looks like a pretty realistic interpretation, without any crazy HDR halos. Second, the all-natural lighting when I shot this image was just… what’s the word… “sucky.” The front of the house was backlit, and the areas of sunlight and shadow were all over the place and intermixed. I knew when I took this shot, any manual blend would be a huge P.I.T.A.. It was pretty much destined to be an automated HDR from the get go.

Shot for my current book project, this promises to be my very first published HDR shot. My only question now is, do I need to do any disclosure? Part of me feels like I should finally say, “Yes, it *IS* HDR.”

Picture: Air Force planes on display at the “Century Circle” near the main entrance gate to Edwards Air Force Base, near Mojave, California

The saying goes, “My, how time flies when you’re having fun.” Right now, my slightly modified version reads, “…or working your backside off.”

I feel kinda bad having taken a bunch of time away from the computer and being online over the Holidays, and it seems that trend is still continuing. I’m currently involved about 130% in preparation for wrapping up my next book project, with my deadline looming around the corner. I’ve been working feverishly to clean off multiple plates & projects prior to taking off for a few more weeks of photography. However, the weather gods decided to interrupt my plans with a long term forecast for very wet weather throughout the whole state next week. So instead of being offline while traveling, I’m spending my time offline while writing.

The hardest part of this whole process is facing up to the huge set back and delay in time I lost last year. Now I’m burning the candles at all three ends. So if my presence online seems a bit sparse over the next number of weeks, you’ll know why.

Last year, fellow photographer Jim Goldstein started a weblog projects about sharing your top photos of the year, so here are mine in an almost random order for 2009. (Given that I didn’t photograph for over half the year – I’ll take what I got.)

#1. Stormy sunrise light over the Eastern Sierra above Round Valley & Mount Tom, near Bishop, California

#2. Sunrise light on the hills below a rain-shrouded Basin Mountain, near Bishop, Eastern Sierra, California

#3. Aerial over Los Vaqueros Reservoir and the foothills of the Diablo Range, looking toward San Francisco Bay, California

#4. Evening light over the Grand Canyon at Yavapai Point, South Rim, Grand Canyon National Park, Arizona

#5. Sunset light over the Grand Canyon near Yavapai Point, South Rim, Grand Canyon National Park, Arizona

#6. Sunlight on bush in sand dunes near Stovepipe Wells, Death Valley National Park, California

#7. Tourist overlooking Badwater and the Panamint Mountains at sunrise, Dante’s View, Death Valley National Park, California

#8. Fall snow storm at sunrise over the Eastern Sierra, from the Buttermilk Region, near Bishop, California

#9. “Spirits in the Air” – Cloud rising into blue sky, Eastern Sierra, near Bishop, California

#10. Alpenglow at sunset on clouds over Wheeler Crest, Eastern Sierra, California

#11. Moving rock at sunrise on the Racetrack Playa, Death Valley National Park, California

#12. Stormy morning light over Badwater & salt pan from Dantes View, Death Valley National Park, California

#13. Panoramic of the Owens River below the Easten Sierra, near Bishop, California

#14. Rural highway and Mount Shasta volcano at sunrise, Northern California

#15. Stormy sunset light over the rugged Kern River Canyon, California

#16. Red clouds at sunrise over lava rock, Lava Beds National Monument, Modoc County, California

#17. Rainbow over old wooden barn in morning light, near Susanville, California

I hope you like them. I’m kinda fond of a few of them, given that I barely got to take any pictures in 2009. I guess I’ll have to try & make up for that in 2010. (Fingers crossed – knock on wood – saying prayers -waving incense – tossing salt & avoiding cliffs.)

Photo: Fireworks burst over the city of San Francisco as seen from the Berkeley Hills, California

“Happy New Year!” – from all of me at Enlightened Images.

It’s been no secret that this has been one of my tougher years, and frankly, I’m glad to see it go. However, I’m not going to send it out on a low note, as I’ll be cooking up some Filet Mignon and Alaskan King Crab Legs for dinner. Tomorrow, anything left over will be put into an omelette and served with a traditional New Years Day Bloody Mary.

I want to wish everyone a very safe, happy, and healthy New Year.

I’ll re-surface next week after the Holiday. Until then, Cheers!!

Every so often I feel it’s important to pass along other great and important photo links, and numerous times of late, that has been thanks to the Boston Globe’s Big Picture. This time they’ve put together a collection of “The Decade in News Photos.” It’s 50 images; 49 compelling and remarkable images, and (scratching head) one picture of Paris Hilton. Serioulsy – one gaping flaw, as a commenter noted, is that they chose to include Paris Hilton, but Michael Phelps & Michael Jackson are surprisingly absent.

Otherwise, it’s still worth a visit. My favorite image – as it didn’t involve any depressing or tragic news, was the image of the Opening Ceremony at the 2008 Summer Olympics. And in a game of “Where’s Waldo?” – there is one person obviously out of proper formation from all the others, and it doesn’t involve how far back or forward they’re leaning. Can you find him?

Picture: Fresh snow on tree branches in Yosemite Valley, Yosemite National Park, California

I just heard the weatherman on the radio say, “only three more days until Winter.” It’s so odd that last week we had the lowest, longest-lasting snowfall in the San Francisco Bay Area in many many years. Today the weather was approaching the mid-sixties and sunny; warmer than most summer days in downtown San Francisco.

I must be feeling old & confused. I remember growing up back east, we had all four seasons, just like they were taught to us in school when we were very young kids. I think I need a trip to the mountains, where winter is winter, and not just a long series of pre-spring, early spring, late spring, and early summer rain storms. I need to see more of those cool white snowflakes wafting downward from the heavens, and coating the world in a peaceful blanket of tranquility.

I do remember one thing about winters as a kid back east that kids here in most of California never get to experiece; the Snow Day. It was when you woke up, saw snow on the ground, and ran to the kitchen where your mom was listening to the radio, waiting to hear if the name of your school got called. “The following schools will be closed today because of snow…” If you heard your school’s name, it was yeah-baby, time to go play! Yeah… that’s it… that’s the ticket. I need a Snow Day.

To see the above image larger, click here.

If you’d like to see more of my Yosemite images, check out my Special Yosemite Print Collection.

Picture: Sunrise light on black, wrought-iron fence gate, Carneros region, Napa Valley, California

In following with a discussion that was taking place on twitter, I responded with a quote:

“A boring or ordinary subject in great light will always make a better photo than a great subject in boring or ordinary light.”

One day when I was in the Napa Valley photographing for my book Backroads of the California Wine Country, I was set up to catch the sunrise light on the Domaine Carneros Estate Winery & Château. Behind me was a black wrought iron decorative gate. When I first arrived at the scene, it was completely uninteresting to the point where I was standing in front of it to get the shot I wanted. By chance, I just happened to watch a car drive by, and as I followed it and spun around, I saw the beautiful golden light of sunrise striking the black painted iron. What was dull and uninteresting just a few moments before had suddenly, with the change of light become interesting and intriguing.

One of the things that I am always telling my photography workshop students and clients is that there is right light and wrong light. Hand-in-hand with that, I also tell them to look at the light, not the subject. After all, we as photographers are recorders of light and shadow. It doesn’t matter what we are taking a picture of, there will always be some combination of light, shadow, and subject area. For instance, being deep in a forest on a bright sunny day is certainly not ideal conditions for good forest photography. That’s the wrong light. That same forest bathed in soft white light from overcast clouds suddenly becomes ideally suited to the photographic medium. For most forest photography, that’s the right light.

This is not limited simply to scenic outdoor photos. Imagine if you will a simple scene set indoors; a person sitting at a small table by themselves, next to a window, a single candle on the table, and hands held around a plain white coffee mug. Picture in your mind’s eye this scene and how it would look if it was shot at midday with relatively even light. Now imagine the exact same scene, this time shot in the evening with the light of a full moon streaming through vertical blinds on the window, and the only other light in the room is the candle. All the elements are exactly the same, yet I’m sure you can see in your mind’s eye how the difference in light can make a radically different photo using the same subjects.

Now going back to the forest, take a look at these two photos. PIctures: Dogwood flower bloom in Spring, Yosemite Valley, Yosemite National Park, California

The first photo shows the scene as it appeared to my eyes when I first walked up to the trees, trying to catch the bloom of the spring dogwoods. Visually, the light makes the scene rather cluttered. Seeing the difference in the light on the flowers and the shadows on the trunk of the trees, I was able to isolate a single Dogwood flower against one of those shadowed areas. By using Spot metering and exposing for the highlights of the bright white flowers I was able to turn that shadowed area almost completely black. This contrast between the edge of light and dark transformed this muddled scene into the great light that I needed. By using my knowledge of light, I was able to manipulate the scene and find the right combination of light, shadow and subject, and turning boring ordinary light into great light. Hopefully the result was to make a different, and as I see it, successful photograph. (This coming from someone who is most certainly *not* a flower photographer.)

Picture: Canyon walls in evening light from Point Sublime, North Rim, Grand Canyon National Park, Arizona

Another new image gallery has been posted on to my web site. Given the title of this post, and the photo immediately above, I guess it won’t come as any surprise when I announce that this new image gallery is filled with pictures of the Grand Canyon National Park. It’s as comprehensive as my coverage gets right now, but there are still a number of other areas of the park that I’m anxious to explore and photograph. No, one of them is NOT the newly built tribal skywalk. While I greatly respect Native American tribes taking some commercial advantage to regain a sense of pride, place, and status that had been stripped from them years ago, it turns out that they won’t allow any cameras there, not even cell phone cameras. From a photographers perspective, what’s the point?

I long for the quiet, can’t see another tourist for miles type of solitude that the canyon can provide. That’s exactly what I experienced at the place above, when a friend and I had all of Point Sublime all to ourselves.