strictly scenic: February 2008 Archives

It's been said that a wildlife photographer's greatest asset is not his eye, equipment or experience, but patience. And that in a nutshell is why I never even tinkered with making wildlife or nature photography my life's work. A cocker spaniel puppy has more patience. If a picture's not there in 20 minutes, I'm gone. Outa there. History.

Check fatali.com for Michael Fatali's exquisite scenic work, mostly from the U.S. southwest. Click on his images, click again on his field notes, and you'll see he sometimes waited four days for the light to be just right. FOUR DAYS! Dallastown's Cliff Beitel spends days looking just the right bird photo, and it shows in his amazing artistry. Once they see it, they click into 'artist' mode, and experience and equipment join in. Both of their links are along the right side of this blog.

As much as I love the outdoors, my work isn't going to be on Country magazine's cover anytime soon. Instead, it'll end up in a shoebox under my bed, just like everyone else's.

So, driving to Hanover, I spot two majestic swans swimming on Spring Grove's pond. Now, how can I miss?

Oh, it's easy to miss. I do it all the time.

Former York Daily Record photographer par excellence, Kristin Murphy, has left sunny York to work for the Park City, Utah, Record. It's got to be a tough job. Ms. Murphy is an excellent skier, and she's living in the middle of The Greatest Snow on Earth (Utah's state slogan). 'Work' is certainly a relative term.

Like most skiers, Ms. Murphy probably skis for the excitement, the exercise and the adrenaline rush. I ski for the view from the mountain top. Or maybe to provide entertainment for real skiers going up on the lift who have applauded some of my more spectacular crashes.

This view is from Sugarbush, Vermont and the view is so amazing it almost makes you cry. Natural snow covers everything, including the mountains that go on forever. The van, where I left my sanity and my shoes, is a dot far below. The view is beautiful. Me getting down, on the other hand, is downright ugly.

Despite rumors that I sat behind Civil War photographer Matthew Brady in school, it's not true. But I've been shooting pictures for a long time, and there still aspects of photography I just can't master. Winter, for example. I love the season-- it's purity of scenes, the cold, the activities. But I have a tough time making it look as good in the camera as what my eye sees.

Here are a few sites I've read to help improve my winter shooting.

http://www.corel.com/uk/pdfs/press/071121_winter_photography.pdf
http://www.creativepro.com/printerfriendly/story/18632.html
http://www.betterphoto.com/gallery/dynoGall2.asp?catID=450

Took a long weekend to ski in Sugarbush, Vermont, recently. While that was our primary reason to head north, we usually manage some free time to explore the state's backroads, trying to capture Vermont's stereotypical charm of its pastel yellow homes, blue homes, bright red barns, its snow-covered mountains and nearly-frozen rivers.

I've always struggled shooting winter. No matter what I try, winter always looks better in my eye than in the photographs I shoot. But I keep trying-- keep looking for that perfect picture.

But on this day, it was just a house and barn that captured our attention. We were on our way to Magog, Quebec, and our favorite restaurant for dinner (about three hours away) when we spotted a long, winding road that crept up a hill through the snow. Being a firm believer of always taking the road less traveled, we drove up to look over the entire scene. At the top of the hill was a beautiful house and old farm.