Rocks and surf at dawn, Wallis Sands State Park, Rye, New Hampshire. F16, 30 seconds. (Jerry Monkman)
If you live in the northern U.S., you are probably experiencing a low snow winter this year. In Portsmouth, New Hampshire, where I live, we haven't had any appreciable snow since before Halloween! The gray and brown hues of a snowless landscape can definitely make it hard for a landscape photographer to be inspired enough to get out there and shoot. I feel fortunate that I chose his winter to start a new project I call 0630, where I go out every morning and make a picture at 6:30 (you can read more about the project in this post I made over at the Outdoor Photographer website.) The project has forced me to get out and shoot, when I normally would have stayed in bed, and it's really getting my creative juices flowing and giving me good practice on techniques I don't always use on a regular basis. For most of the last 6 weeks, I've been shooting primarily 30-45 minutes before sunrise, so here are some tips on what to do when it's winter, it's dark, and there's no snow.
Find some light, any light! On clear mornings, I head to the coast, where I can use the pre-sunrise glow and colors to my advantage. Since I like to use low ISOs like 100 or 200, and small apertures like F16, that means I'm often shooting very slow shutter speeds, anywhere from 15 seconds to 2 minutes. A sturdy tripod is a must, and I really recommend using a cable release or the self-timer on the camera. Since most cameras have a maximum shutter speed of 30 seconds, you'll need to put the camera in bulb mode for anything longer and then use a cable release to hold the shutter open the appropriate amount of time. What's the appropriate amount of time? Let's say the camera's meter is telling you that F11 and 30 seconds is too dark of an exposure. Increase your aperture until the meter reads a proper exposure. In this example, assume that it now says F5.6, 30 seconds. This equates to F8 at 1 minute, F11 at 2 minutes, or F16 at 4 minutes. Put the camera in bulb mode, dial in F11, then trip the shutter with the cable release, locking it in the on position and keep the shutter open for 2 minutes. If you have an intervalometer (a fancy cable release), you can set it to automatically hold the shutter open for 2 minutes. If you include a dark foreground like in the above photo, you will probably also need to use a graduated split neutral density filter to hold down the exposure in the sky and avoid blown out highlights.
Pre-dawn surf, Rye Harbor State Park, New Hampshire. F16, 2 minutes. (Jerry Monkman)
On cloudy days, finding light is obviously even harder. I'm finding it's still fun to make long exposures on the coast like the above shot, but there's a lot less color. Though it's not part of my normal subject matter, city scenes here in Portsmouth have proven to be a good thing to shoot when I need to find a little light on dark mornings. For many of these urban scenes like the below image of the Memorial Bridge in the fog, I'm finding High Dymanic Range (HDR) software to be a huge help. For this image, I locked my camera into the tripod and shot three exposures at F16, 2-stops apart: 4 seconds, 15 seconds, and 30 seconds. The combination of the three exposures captured detail in both the dark recesses behind the buildings and in the bright lights. I used Nik HDR Efex Pro to combine the three shots into one.
The Memorial Bridge in the fog, Portsmouth, New Hampshire. HDR. (Jerry and Marcy Monkman)
Trees silhouetted against the morning sky at Odiorne Point State Park in Rye, New Hampshire. F11, 3.2 seconds. (Jerry and Marcy Monkman)
Another technique I like to use when a "normal" shot might not work because of mediocre light or so-so subject matter is to purposefully blur the photo to create an abstract composition. For the above shot of trees against a pre-dawn sky, I used a shutter speed of 3.2 seconds and moved the camera up while the shutter was open. This is a really fun technique because you never know exactly what you're going to get. In addition to moving the camera up and down, you can try moving it horizontally or diagonally as well.
Captain Tobias Lear's 1781 tombsone in the Point of Graves Burying Ground in Portsmouth, New Hampshire. F4, 15 seconds (Jerry and Marcy Monkman)
Of course, you can always add your own light with flash, or as I did in the above photo, with a flashlight. "Light painting" with a flashlight is as easy as waving the flashlight across your subject during the exposure. For this shot, I just used a basic maglight that I bought at the local hardware store, and painted the tombstones during a 15 second exposure. I love the skull and crossbones, by the way.
I am enjoying shooting at this time quite a bit. Most days, I'm done shooting before the sun even comes up so I can go about my normal daily routine. I was actually startled to see the sun come on Saturday when I lingered longer than usual, and I have been so accustomed to shooting in the dark, that I wasn't sure what to do with all that light!
The forecast is calling for a little snow tonight, but hopefully this post has given you some ideas of what to do on those dark, snow-free, winter days.
The barn at Elmwood Farm in Hopkinton, Massachusetts.
Today I'm working on one of the dozen or so one-day conservation photo projects I get to work on every year. I'm shooting at a small, old family farm in Massachusetts that is in the process of being conserved both for the open space and to provide some community garden opportunities. Like I have to do for many of these projects, I drove about two hours in the dark this morning to arrive at the farm about 20 minutes before sunrise. It's not an ideal way to shoot, especially when you've never seen the place, whether in person or in photographs, but I love this kind of challenge and I think these types of photo projects have made me a better photographer.
Milkweed pod at Elmwood Farm in Hopkinton, Massachusetts.
I'm blessed to have the opportunity to shoot in some of New England's most iconic locations several times a year. Places like Acadia, the White Mountains, and Vermont. While I love shooting in these spots, it's easy to get lazy and just shoot the same dramatic landscapes that look good from year to year. However, shooting in a less impressive location like where I was this morning makes me work a lot harder and faster. I literally had about 10 minutes to take a quick look around, and then I had to start shooting (heck, today I wasn't even sure I was in the right place.) This place definitely isn't as dramatic as Monument Cove in Acadia or the summit of Mount Monroe in the White Mountains, so it takes some effort to quickly surmise the scene, break it down into those few elements that I feel define it, and then find a simple composition that works with the light at hand. These types of locations also force me to look a little closer for those interesting details that can be easy to overlook in a more dramatic landscape.
Dawn at Elmwood Farm in Hopkinton, Massachusetts.
What starts as a groggy feeling around in the dark approach soon becomes a mad dash to capture as much as possible when the golden hour commences and the Dunkin Donuts kicks in. I'll be sticking around to shoot some more later this afternoon after some good leisurely walks around the place, but clouds are already moving in, so the photos I shot during my whirlwind hour this morning might prove to be the best shots I get.
Lily pads and pond reflections at Elmwood Farm in Hopkinton, Massachusetts.
Sometime you want to take pictures without your feet on the ground. Here are some tips for keeping your gear safe while shooting from a kayak. In this video, New Hampshire based conservation photographer Jerry Monkman explains how to keep your camera gear safe while shooting from a kayak.
Check out Jerry's fall Cape Cod workshop here: Eco Photography
[toggles active=0 speed=500][toggle title="Transcript"]Hi, everybody. This is Jerry Monkman from Ecophotography.com. I'm often asked how I keep my gear safe while paddling. So today, I'm going to give a few tips on how to shoot from a kayak.
First off, obviously our main goal here is not to get our camera immersed in water. Everything we do is to keep our gear safe, and the first thing you need to do to do that is to know your own limits as far as paddling. If you're not good at keeping a boat upright, don't take your camera out when you're in a boat. If you can't handle big waves out in the ocean, don't take your camera out when you're in the boat.
Otherwise, if you've got those skills, there are some things you can do to minimize the water getting on your camera. One thing I do is use this really cool camera vest called a cotton carrier, which holds the camera snug against my body so I'm not banging it with my paddle and water is not dripping down my paddle onto the camera.
It's really a pretty neat little gizmo. It's got this Velcro strap to hold the camera snug, and then you just twist and turn and get your camera out and you're shooting.
When I'm shooting, I'm shooting for shutter speeds of 1/250th, 1/500th of a second, a little faster shutter speeds. If I need to use a faster ISO, ISO 200, 400, something like that, I'll do that. There's a lot of movement when you're in a boat, obviously, so you need to use that faster shutter speed so you don't get camera blur.
Before I had a cotton carrier, I would just cinch my camera strap up so the camera was up here, a little more snug, not down here where it was more likely to get some water on it.
That's pretty simple kind of stuff, but that is the basics of what you need to do when you're shooting.
Now, if you're in really extreme conditions but need your camera out to shoot, you're going to probably want an underwater housing. If you can't afford a real expensive one, do what I do. I'm kind of cheap, so I've got this U-A Marine housing. It's still a few hundred dollars and it doesn't give you access to all your camera controls, but if you use auto-focus and auto-exposure, you can shoot all day long with your camera in here safely. If the waves are crashing over you, you don't have to worry about your camera getting ruined. This is a good investment if you're going to be shooting in that kind of stuff.
Also, you can store your camera and other gear in a dry bag, either in your cockpit so it's easily accessible if there's room, or in the hatch where you'll need to, obviously, stop the boat for a moment to get out and get your gear.
Let's see, what else. Lastly, I always have pockets in my PFDs so I can get at extra camera gear easily, such as a memory card holder. These Geppie holders are great because they're waterproof and they float. If your memory cards fall in the ocean, you can just paddle over and pick them up.
I also keep a lens cloth in here somewhere. There we go. Inevitably, you are going to get a few drops on your lens and your camera, and you'll want something to wipe those off. I keep that handy in here. I'll also sometimes throw in a polarizer. It's where I store my lens caps, things like that.
It's good to get a PFD with pockets.
All right, those are my photo tips for the day. Get out there, have fun in your boat, be safe, and enjoy your photo adventure.[/toggle][/toggles]
Cherry Mountain and the distant Presidential Range as seen from Pondicherry National Wildlife Refuge in New Hampshire's White Mountains.
I am currently spending a few days in New Hampshire's White Mountains thanks to a couple of speaking engagements. The White Mountains are the place where I became hooked on nature photography 20 years ago. Marcy and I had just moved to Boston and for some reason we decided to give hiking a try even though it wasn't something either one of us grew up with. I still remember our first two hikes like they were yesterday – an easy valley walk into Zealand Falls followed the next day by an above-treeline adventure on Mount Jefferson. To say these hikes changed our lives is a bit of an understatement. At the time, we lived and worked in the city, Marcy in human resources and me in computer programming. Going to live music clubs and Fenway Park were our usual forms of entertainment, but after glimpsing the vast Pemgiwasset Wilderness and the world of glacial cirques and alpine wildflowers so close to home, we quickly converted to weekend backpackers and peak baggers. Within a year, I met Galen Rowell at a book signing and I suddenly knew I had a new calling in life. It took another decade to hone my skills and shake the chains of the programming cubicle, but it was worth the wait.
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"The Whites" were easily my biggest inspiration when I became a photographer and most of my favorite images from my first ten years of shooting come from there. At first, my main goal was to make the best "calendar" style images I could, but as I learned of the history of the region I became more interested in conservation. In the second half of the 19th century, the White Mountains became one of the premier tourist destinations in America, as the region became known through the paintings of Hudson River School painters like Thomas Cole and writers like Nathaniel Hawthorne. Ironically, by the early 20th century, the Whites were also the scene of some of the most unsustainable logging practices in the country. Through the efforts of groups led by the Society for the Protection of New Hampshire Forests, the Weeks Act was passed in 1911, establishing the national forest system east of the Mississippi and then the White Mountain National Forest. Our book, White Mountain Wilderness, tells the story of the "rewilding" of the region that followed.
My experiences in the White Mountains led to my decision to focus my photography efforts on conservation in New England, and I have since worked on close to 100 land conservation projects in the region since I left that cubicle job. Ironically, that means the bulk of my time is spent in places other then the White Mountains, as these projects primarily involve unprotected private lands outside of the Whites, so it is great to have times like this weekend to get a few moments to shoot familiar landscapes like the opening shot in this post from Pondicherry National Wildlife Refuge. While nature photographers as a group like to explore and shoot in new and exotic landscapes, I find it is equally important to have favorite places you can revisit time and time again. This gives you the opportunity to see a place in different lighting conditions and seasons, and as you get to know a place you inevitably start to see the place in new ways. I also find that going back to the same place over and over results in a more relaxed approach. Last Friday night at Pondicherry (a place I've shot probably a dozen times), I felt no pressure to produce because I already have plenty of Pondicherry images in my files. This freed me from the need to produce a bunch of images that describe every inch of the place and instead I could focus on just looking for one or two nice images if the light worked out. (It also allowed me to not regret missing some photo ops while I sat for an hour hoping the black bear I saw ahead on the trail would return – he didn't.)
Big Cherry Pond, Pondicherry National Wildlife Refugre in New Hampshire's White Mountains.
I find that shooting in familiar places is a necessary diversion from other work and the best place to practice new techniques that you can then use during those trips to new places or when on assignment. Nailing down technique when there's no pressure can make or break a photo shoot in a new location when you have limited time. Soon, I'm heading to the Lake Sunapee region of New Hampshire for a one day assignment on a property I've never been to before. Having tricks in my bag that I know how to execute ahead of time gives me the confidence that I'll do a decent job as long as the weather cooperates.
Until next time…
-Jerry
Find out more about Jerry at his website, and follow him on Twitter at @jerrymonkman
I spent two days backpacking on the Appalachian Trail in May. It was my first time spending a night in the backcountry this year, and it felt great to be out. The smell of balsam fir was intense along this section of trail, conjuring all kinds of great memories of hikes past. I was working on a project that has great potential.
Paper birches next to stream.
I spent day one in a light drizzle, which provided great diffuse light for photos like this one of paper birches next to a stream. To keep my gear dry, I used that most advanced piece of equipment known as an umbrella. I use various camera and lens covers in the rain, but I still find that I prefer to use an umbrella clamped to my my tripod. The only other accessory I used for this shot was a polarizer, which I consider to be required for shooting forest scenes like this in order to really bring out the colors of the forest.
Camping on the Appalachian Trail in Maine.
Luckily, day 2 was sunny and breezy so my clothes and camping gear dried out pretty quickly. I used a Lensbaby for the above shot. I’ve always found it challenging to shoot camp scenes in fresh ways, and the Lensbaby was a fun way to mix it up a bit. While my socks dried out in an hour or two, they were soaked again pretty quickly as the trail that day was covered in about two and half feet of wet snow above 3700 feet. It’s melting fast though and the trail below the snow line was a running freshet for about half a mile.
Near the Appalachian Trail in Maine.
This boggy area was filled with fresh moose sign. I spent about five hours hanging out and waiting for moose with no luck though. I could also see the bog from much of that day’s hike, but no moose sighting. Maybe there weren’t enough flies yet to drive the moose out into the open. Still it was a cool place to hang out, knowing that they were around somewhere. After the hike, I drove to Bar Harbor to shoot a photo tips video for the Appalachian Mountain Club.
Until next time…
-Jerry
Find out more about Jerry at his website, and follow him on Twitter at @jerrymonkman
Editors note: Welcome to Jerry and Marcy Monkman! They will be posting on our blog from time to time, and we are pleased and honored to have them.
Jerry and Marcy Monkman are "EcoPhotographers" featuring distinctive adventure, nature, and travel photography. Known for their conservation work in New England's wild places, the Monkmans have spent the last fifteen years artfully documenting the mountains, forests, and coastlines that define the region.
Onion seedlings in a greenhouse in South Hampton, New Hampshire.
This is the first time in eleven years that I am not working on one or more book projects (I tortured myself with three last year.) I love working on books most of the time, but add in the usual bunch of commissioned photo projects that I do every year, and it’s rare for me to have the time to shoot just because I feel like it. I think this is a problem. Always working under deadlines makes it hard to grow as a photographer. You are less likely to experiment with new techniques, explore new subject matter in depth, or just have fun being a photographer.
I think emerging photographers often create such unique and compelling work because they have yet to be hemmed in by years of running a business and fulfilling the demands of clients. Us veterans need to get back to the freedom of our early days once in a while by regularly tackling personal photo projects. These projects are a a great way to have fun, while stretching your skills to new levels and sometimes unexpected places. Besides giving you a chance to grow creatively, they are an important way to let photo editors and art buyers see what you are interested in, new directions you are exploring, and that you can find new ways to make art and tell stories. It’s sometimes hard to do that with commissioned work, as the client hires you based on what you already do. Sure, you can experiment on those projects too, but you better get it right using tried and true methods first.
Seed flats planted with onion seeds in a greenhouse in South Hampton, New Hampshire.
My wife Marcy and I are members of a CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) on the New Hampshire Seacoast called Heron Pond Farm. CSA members give the farm capital at the times of the year when they need it most, and the farm pays back its members with fruits and vegetables once a week or every other week during the course of the year. Heron Pond Farm, offers both a summer share, which runs from June through October, and a winter share that pays out from November through March. (By the way there is still room to purchase this year’s summer share if you’re in the area – from our experience, I can tell you that you receive much more value than you pay out.) I’ve decided to make chronicling the work at Heron Pond Farm a personal photo project that I can work on over the course of the year, and beyond. I feel that the CSA movement has benefits on many levels – it strengthens community, it keeps open space from being developed, and it encourages people to eat locally, which reduces carbon emissions. As a personal photography project, it is ideal for me for several reasons: 1) it is different than my usual nature and adventure photography, 2) it has a conservation theme, which is something I am passionate about, 3) it is close to home (about 15 miles) so I can shoot an hour here or there without feeling like it is getting in the way of my “real” work, 4) it is a story I can easily follow long-term and develop a body of work that has meaning and is marketable, and 5) it lets me support people and a business I believe in.
Farmer Greg Balog training tomato plants in a greenhouse in South Hampton, New Hampshire. Heron Pond Farm greenhouse.
I’ve spent 6-8 hours/month so far since January with the Heron Pond Farm crew, and I’m really just getting started photography-wise. While I have photographed farms before, it has typically been from a scenic standpoint, while this project is inspiring me to take a more in-depth approach, learning what’s going on and why, and capturing the course of events from planting to harvest to market. Of course, starting a photography project focusing on a vegetable farm in New Hampshire in January may seem less than ideal, but it has been a great time to get to know the farmers and their crew as well as shoot the farming that happens in the winter in greenhouses. I never understood the extent of winter farming in New Hampshire, and to me that’s a new story that I can pursue. (Plus, the light in a greenhouse has a great diffuse quality, so you can shoot any time of day using natural light. That will end soon as planting moves outside.) What’s nice about working on a story like this as a personal project is that there is no deadline or client, and if I get to the farm and just feel like goofing around with my new lens baby for 3 hours, that’s o.k. The goal for me is to use that time to try new things and techniques and see what happens. If it sucks, who cares? But maybe I’ll figure something out that is pretty cool
A greenhouse at Heron Pond Farm that was damaged by a rain and wind storm in South Hampton, New Hampshire. Thankfully, the plastic sheeting was due to be replaced soon, and the warm weather meant the crops were not lost.
I’m excited to see where this project goes as the weather warms up and I get to spend time out in the fields. I feel like the creative opportunities will get even more inspiring as this story progresses, but I already feel like I’m better off just for having started it. Now I just have to find the time for the other three or four projects swimming around in my head!
Heron Pond Farm Greenhouse – Images by Jerry and Marcy Monkman
Until next time,
-Jerry
You can find out more about the Monkmans at their website, and follow Jerry on Twitter at @jerrymonkman
