In Search of Snow

Is it winter yet? It sure doesn’t feel that way here in southern New Hampshire. With my front lawn still dressed in green and temperatures staying well above the little red line on the thermometer, the elements for winter photography are sadly lacking in these parts.

Consequently, I had no choice but to buckle up and drive elsewhere in search of snow. The sparsity of fluffy white stuff appears to be a New England-wide phenomenon this year, but I was thrilled to find freshly-fallen snow in the hills of northern Vermont. Not exactly at my doorstep though, but still worth the 150-mile journey north.

I love Vermont in winter. Scenic villages, red barns, white-steepled churches, snow-capped mountains, and quietude. What is there not to like? Vermont is full of quaint villages. And one of my personal favorites is Peacham.

Peacham is hardly an unknown. In fact, if you come here at the peak of foliage season, you may find yourself elbowed by a throng of photographers from all over creation. Hollywood too found this place years ago, with several large productions filmed here. But fear not, you will likely be alone in winter, as I was on my latest visit.

Peacham offers up stereotypical Vermont scenery at its finest. The village sits on a hill overlooking mountains to the east, so the best time to photograph here is late afternoon. To make the above photo, I walked out into an open field and waited for the sun to stop playing hide-and-go-seek, eventually casting its warm light on the red barn. Fresh powdery snow, good light, and textured clouds. It doesn’t get much better than this.

No Expectations

When it comes to photography, I admit to being a bit of a control freak (okay, that guffaw was not really necessary). Before going anywhere, I envision the image I want to create in detail, study the hourly forecast on Weather.com until moments before my departure, check the tide charts if the seacoast is anywhere near my subject, scrutinize possible tripod locations in Google Earth, and verify the exact angle of the sun for the anticipated time of day using The Photographer’s Ephemeris.

At first glance, this might seem rather anal-retentive but it’s all part of my pre-shooting routine. And I admit to being pretty efficient at these steps now. The problem lies less with my planning and more with the inevitable disappointment that ensues when nature fails to comply with my calculations. And if you’ve experienced New England weather, you know this happens often.

Once upon a time (i.e. last month), I would get upset at seeing my perfect plan derailed. But now, I just “deal with it”. It’s a bit like that Food Network show, Chopped. The competing chefs have no idea what’s in the food basket until they have to cook. Likewise, photographers must make a good image out of whatever nature throws at them. So, my newfound motto is “no expectations”. I still plan but then go out with the attitude of making due with whatever I find on location. Much better now.

The above image of the A.M. Foster Covered bridge was made a few days ago in Cabot, Vermont. It’s not at all the image I planned. The snow was sparse, the sun settled in a thin cloud bank, and the wind picked up as I was trying to compose the shot. But here it is. This is what I created from the lousy ingredients in my basket. Yet I’m pretty happy with the result. Like I said, all better now.

2011 Favorites

Last year, I published a list of photos I considered my favorites for the year. Well, I’m doing it again this year, except that this time I put them in a PDF file instead of posting them to my blog. A PDF file yields higher quality photos, and gives me more space for narrative.

Click 2011 FAVORITES to download the PDF file. For best results, save it to your PC, open it in Adobe Reader, and select Full Screen Mode from the View menu.

Enjoy.

Back to Narragansett

Narragansett Bay, that is. If you live in New England and, like me, are gaga over rugged coastlines, then the wild Rhode Island coast is the call of the siren.

I find myself returning to Narragansett Bay several times a year, always off-season after the tourists have driven off with the kiddies and only a few hardy souls remain to mix with the locals. Sure you need to dress warm at this time of year, but you have the place to yourself. Not good for your social life perhaps, but ideal for photography.

The scenery may not change between visits, but weather conditions sure can. So, I keep coming back in search of dramatic light, shapely clouds, and sensational color. Yeah, I know it’s a pipe dream, hence the repeat visits.

The five-mile stretch of Ocean Road between Point Judith and Narragansett offers up an endless potpourri of photogenic seascapes. But the best places are not advertised. In fact, many sit on oceanside cul-de-sacs and high-end residential streets bearing names like Hazard Avenue, Newton Avenue, and Bass Rock Road.

The reason for the lack of publicity may have to do with danger. The rocks below tide level pitch down to the water and are exceptionally slippery even when dry. The combination of slick rocks, violent surf, and nasty undertow is a deadly combination. Many have died along this coast over the years. I would never bring a small child here.

Anyway, I was back in Narragansett for a few days recently in search of those perfect elements. While the stars rarely align perfectly to deliver the ideal conditions, I did photograph an awesome sunset. Photography is a bit like fly fishing. It takes a fair amount of patience and you need to be prepared to come back empty-handed.

I think I may have caught a fish or two on this visit.

What Was I Thinking

I just came back from a tour of the Canadian Rockies. I know — nobody in their right mind goes to the Rockies in November. But I suppose that’s the point. Imagine the mountains without tourists, catching the sunrise after 8am and sunset before 5pm, hiking the canyon trails without fear of man-eating bears, and catching late autumn scenes few have witnessed. Sound pretty good, hey?

Well, it turns out that reality once again threw a big stick in my bicycle spokes, messing up the stunning conditions that my dreamy brain had conjured up on its own.

REALITY #1: The grizzlies are still out there. This was the warning I got at the lodge. A bear had been spotted and fresh tracks could be seen everywhere in the snow. “Keep a sharp eye because you never know when and where they will show up. Go out in groups. Oh and by the way, the wolves and cougars are out there too.” Are you freaking kidding me? My mind slipped back to that dogged childhood nightmare that starred a large hungry bear gnawing on my fear-paralyzed carcass.

REALITY #2: The sun abandons the place in October. Okay, that may be a slight exaggeration but it feels right saying it given the November conditions we experienced out there. I will admit that we did see the sun light the mountain peaks — once for five minutes. But for the rest of the week, nature spit out a mixture of rain, sleet and snow on our small group of determined photographers who kept taking photos…just because.

REALITY #3: Dress for the Siberian tundra. We were told to dress in layers. Picture this: start with long thermal underwear (over your normal skivvies if you still heed mom’s warning). Then, add a warm shirt and pants on top of that, and cover the top with a fleece pullover. Next, put on waterproof ski pants and a down parka, and top that with a hooded waterproof shell against rain and wind. The defenseless extremities need special attention too: thick moisture-absorbing socks, sub-zero temperature snow boots, propylene gloves, wool hat, and maybe a balaclava for that total-nerd look. In full winter garb, I walked like the Michelin man wearing an adult diaper.

Was it all that bad? Goodness, no. All in all, this was a pleasant trip in spite of disappointing weather. The Canadian Rockies offer up a variety of awesome subjects under almost any lighting conditions. It may be frustratingly hard work, but good photos are still out there, just like that grizzly bear. As a photographer friend of mine said recently, the images from this trip have character. Okay, maybe that was just her way of uplifting a bummed-out friend, but I do think she makes a valid point.

I’m especially grateful to have met and learned from maestro Darwin Wiggett, the preeminent Canadian Rockies photographer. Darwin has published eleven coffee table books on these jaw-dropping mountains, capturing every season in magnificence. And I should not understate the pleasure of rubbing elbows with fellow enthusiasts who love to photograph while having fun.

I will go back to the Canadian Rockies. My next trip will likely be some late February or early March, when the thick ice makes it possible to photograph on the lakes using crampons. November was only boot camp for my next winter adventure. And by February, the black bears and grizzlies should be in hibernation. You think?