(click image for larger view & details)

Rime ice on pine tree, San Bernardino National Forest, California

Dawn light on Mount Whitney from the Alabama Hills, Sequoia National Park, California

Crescent moon and dawn light over the Big Sur coast, California

Fall color and fresh snow at Lake Sabrina, Sierra Nevada Mountains, California

Sunset at Soberanes Point, Garrapata State Park, Big Sur, California

Barrel cactus in bloom, Anza-Borrego Desert State Park, California

 Backcountry skier in the Ansel Adams Wilderness, Sierra Nevada Mountains, California

Peninsular Bighorn Sheep, Anza-Borrego Desert State Park, California

The Eiffel Tower, Paris, France

Rime ice on pine cones and branches, San Bernardino National Forest, California

As 2011 comes to a close I’d like to take this opportunity to say thanks to everyone who has supported my work during the past year. From the clients who have been with me for years, to the new friends from around the world who have connected through social networks, I appreciate our relationship and I hope you all have a very happy holiday season.

It always amazes me how fast the seasons seem to change this time of year. Feels like summer was just here and already fall is giving way to winter. By most accounts it was an unusual year for fall color with mother nature not quiet sure what she wanted to do in many parts of the country.  The Sierra Nevada provided another bounty for us in the west although not quite as dramatic as last year. I hope everyone got out to enjoy the colors in your local woods and maybe preserved a few visions of your own from this most colorful season.

As another Thanksgiving approaches I’m reminded of how much we have to be grateful for. In this often crazy world, nature provides a constant source of inspiration and renewal (photographically and in life), and is often as close as our own backyard. I’m looking forward to gathering with friends and family in the days ahead - then exploring the great, white wonderland of winter as soon as the snow starts to fall. Have a safe and fun holiday weekend everyone.

Fall color and fresh snow, Sierra Nevada Mountains, California (click to view larger)

Making great images of fall color obviously starts with the seasonal changing of the leaves. Where and how this happens is dependent upon elevation and temperature and no two years are ever the same. The higher mountains of the west begin in mid-September, eastern hardwoods in October, and the lower red-rock country of the southwest in early November. Once you’ve settled on a destination and found that great grove of trees the next step is to consider the light.

It might seem like the vibrant reds or yellows before you would be faithfully reproduced by your sensor no matter what time of day, but understanding the quality of the light can go along way towards guaranteeing your success. Using backlight or sidelight when the sun is low on the horizon and illuminates the leaves from behind creates a wonderful warm glow, especially when set against a dark background. Softlight is another great light source (illustrated above) that occurs when the sky is overcast and acts like a giant studio softbox. Under these conditions, it doesn’t matter what time of day you’re shooting as the shadows are eliminated and the uniform light both reduces the contrast while intensifying the colors.

So when the scene presents itself, consider the light and don’t be too quick to trip the shutter. A slight change in position or a little patience could make the difference between a good image and a great one.

Fall aspens at South Lake, Inyo National Forest, Sierra Nevada Mountains, California

It’s September 1st – the days are getting shorter, and there is a crispness in the air that definitely signals the close of summer. This is my favorite time of year when the crowds give way to the colors of fall, and the natural world seems to come alive once again with a riot of color.

It’s always hard to predict just when the peak of autumn will occur, and temperature changes play a large part in this. Higher elevations in the western mountains tend to peak late September to early October, the eastern hardwoods around mid-October, while desert canyons such as Zion typically show their full colors in early November.

Indications are that 2011 will be another big winter, which means the season may be cut short as early snows cause the leaves to turn brown or drop prematurely. But if your timing is right, you can have the best of both worlds with one season visually ushering in another.

Fall aspens along Bishop Creek, Sierra Nevada Mountains, California

The digital age has opened up a whole new realm of possible solutions from HDR (High Dynamic Range) to stitched panoramas, and filters have always been invaluable in controlling and shaping the light just as much in the digital realm as in the days of film.

With all of these techniques available it’s easy to lose focus, to put the cart before the horse so to speak, and attempt to “shoot for HDR” or push a filter to its limits. As with the constant temptation to buy the latest camera or software, we need to remember that it’s not about the gear or the technique, but the vision. That’s the essence of creative photography and yet often misplaced amid all of the many possibilities.

No matter what the future may bring our most important tool as photographers will always be our mind’s eye, and the equipment in our bag or on our desktop is just a means of  helping the viewer connect with what we felt emotionally when we made the image.

Ancient Bristlecone pines in the Patriarch Grove, White Mountains, California

California is a land of superlatives and nowhere is this more pronounced than along the eastern escarpment of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. From the lofty summit of Mount Whitney at nearly 15,000 feet (the highest point in the lower 48)  to the barren plain of Badwater in Death Valley at 282 feet below sea level is a distance of just over 100 miles. The Owens Valley which lies between them is the deepest chasm in North America, and to the east on the barren upper slopes of the White Mountains the oldest living trees on earth cling to life in this other-worldly landscape.

There’s been an online discussion lately about art and copying, the process of creating images that are not the photographer’s personal vision so much as an attempt to duplicate the work of others. In extreme cases some would argue this isn’t art at all, but rather a mechanized form of duplication. The unfortunate result is that many photographers are no longer willing to share information about specific locations, and those photographers involved are missing the opportunity to show the world their own unique vision.

This trend is ironic given that we’re a country born of rugged individualism, and photography above all is a form of personal expression. But it’s no surprise when we are surrounded by such a lack of creativity in society today - movie remakes of 70′s television shows; advertisements using surprisingly similar images; even politicians repeating the same words as if they are uniquely their own. Perhaps this lack of originality is due to tight deadlines and too little time in our fast-paced world, or simply a fear of the unknown.

Before I head off on a shoot (especially if it’s a location I’ve never been to before) I thoroughly research the area geographically and geologically and I’ll also review images of the area as a reference point to get a sense of place. But then after immersing myself in the details at home, I use the travel time to clear my head and fine tune my receptors to soak in whatever the location may offer.

Instead of previsualizing, I prefer to see a place through a child’s eye as if I’m the first ever to experience it. I’ll often avoid the obvious viewpoint whenever possible in favor of an angle that combines the key elements of the scene in a fresh, new way. When that’s a challenge, I’ll try a different lens or shutter speed or perhaps just wait for the light or weather to change.

So dare to be different and embrass the unknown. Find your own unique vision and enjoy the rewards of the path less travelled.

The transition from summer to fall can be a sudden explosion of color or a subtle change in hues depending on how quickly the temperature drops as the autumnal equinox approaches. Equally dramatic is the first snowfall signaling the coming of winter. It might be a light dusting on leaves and branches adding a new dimension to the autumn landscape, or a large storm that blankets the slopes at higher elevations in stark contrast to the bold colors below. This image from the San Juan Mountains in Colorado exemplifies the later and is a prime example of seasons competing for attention – and for the photographer’s eye.

The Quinault Rain Forest in Washington’s Olympic National Park is a lush and vibrant setting with limitless possibilities for photography. Along with the Queets and Hoh, it is one of the largest temperate rain forests in the lower 48 and receives an amazing 12 to 14 feet (yes feet!) of precipitation each year. The abundance of plants and trees including Sitka spruce, western hemlock, and Bigleaf maples is a feast for the eyes and the moss-draped branches create a jungle-like feeling in this primeval forest.

The challenge of course is to keep your photo gear dry and a portable umbrella and camera rain hood like those made by Kata are invaluable for shooting when it’s wet. Fortunately, the skies are often cloudy which creates nice even lighting, eliminates the harsh shadows and really makes the colors glow. And if the scene includes water, the longer exposures often required in the forest will create a silky look that only adds to the dreamlike quality of this special place. The only problem I’ve encountered when shooting rain forests is that when you leave your eyes have a hard time adjusting to the lack of green in the rest of the world!