New Releases

Morning Meetings

Sunrise over Boronda Lake Palo Alto, California Foothills Park in Palo Alto has, for many many years, been exclusive to residents of the city of Palo Alto. Visitors were only allowed if accompanied by a Palo Alto resident, or if a Palo Alto resident was having a party at the parks picnic grounds and put your name on "the list". As such, I had been to the park 2 or 3 times but never really explored. Recently the city opened the park up to non-residents and Willie and I ventured here, to Boronda Lake to catch reflections in the sunrise. On our first visit 2 friends arrived just as we were packing up. They popped their trunks, got out some blankets, and then 2 coolers, some snacks, and coffees. They walked out onto the pier, put their blankets down 10 feet apart, and proceeded to have a wonderful morning picnic. I can imagine this is a peaceful place to enjoy the morning. Escaype was predicting a nice sunrise but Willie and I didn't want to drive far, so we ventured here. We had hoped for a brighter sunrise but just enough of the clouds caught light that we were able to enjoy a nice sunrise. To the south (the left of the photo), the clouds caught more color but lacked texture. To the east, in this direction, the clouds were more interesting but didn't quite glow pink and red and orange. None-the-less, it was still a quick and nice morning. Nikon D850 w/Nikkor 14-24mm f/2.8: 14mm, f/13, 1/3 sec, ISO 64

Inspiration

Sunrise over fishing village Reine, Lofoten Islands, Norway I'm often asked why I take pictures? The answer is two-fold: for myself, to remember the places I've been, and for others, to inspire them to see the world. Every day for 6 years I would walk by a photo of this scene in the Lofoton Islands of Norway. SmugMug had a giant panorama print of Reine -- it took over the whole wall -- and it was hung in one of the main hallways. Every day I'd walk by it and say "one day I'm going to go there." After 3 trips to Iceland, Rebecca finally said to me "damnit, we're going to Norway. I'll plan the trip. You can come along if you'd like." So we booked flights, invited Andy along ... and then promptly kicked Rebecca out of planning the trip. Andy and I did most of the planning and a 7 day photo trip turned into a 5 day trip with 2 days of backcountry skiing. I'll cut to the chase and skip the long story about how we nearly didn't make it here and just leave it at this: We stopped in Iceland on the way, photographed some ice-caves, beat the largest snowstorm in Reykjavik's history and caught our flight with 5 minutes to spare. Everything was easy after that. This is probably the most photographed scene in all of the Lofoton Islands, with a similar photo from Hamnoy coming in a close second, but I don't care. This inspired me to travel halfway across the world and see and do something different. So here's my own take, taken at 6:30am on a cold morning, when the wind died down long enough for the unnamed mountain peak to reflect in the water. Reine (pronounced Ray-nuh), is a gorgeous fishing village, now turned into tourist attraction. We stayed in some of those red huts on the right. I find it interesting that the tallest peak here is, as far as I can tell, unnamed. All the other peaks are named except for the main peak. Strange. Nikon D800 w/Nikkor 24-70mm f/2.8: 38mm, f/11, 4 sec, ISO 400

Chorus

Sunset over Sunflowers Silicon Valley, California There's something about these sunflower fields that make me imagine they're all about to speak to us. I don't quite know what they'd say, but it really looks like there's faces on here, ready to sing their hearts out. Or maybe their seeds out? Nikon D800 w/Nikkor 14-24mm f/2.8: 14mm, f/11, 1/3 sec, ISO 500

Warming

Lightbeams and Redwoods in fog Redwood National Park, CA Forests are a great place to photograph because there's so many different ways to interpret the same scene. Before the sun creeps in you can photograph the peaceful forest at rest, with all the trees and leaves in their slumbering glory. In the spring, flowers bloom adding new elements to the scene. By summer they're gone and you have just the leaves and the trees. In winter, the leaves are gone and snow can add a different element. Wait for the sun to creep in and light rays can transform the scene. Along the coast, fog can hide parts of the forest and focus on particular elements. We knew this area of the forest might get light rays so we kept close. Or maybe I'm making this up and we just happened to be in the area when the sun set low enough to start creating beams. We photographed several different views of the beams while the fog and the setting sun kept them in the forest. Although we started out much wider, trying to capture "gods rays" as we call them, beaming out in all directions around a tree, I was also transfixed by the way some of the side beams were lighting up the redwood trees and warming them up. I could imagine being one of these trees, loving the warmth of the sun shining in. As a peaceful observer it was hard not to *feel* warmer just looking at these. Nikon D850 w/Nikkor 80-200mm f/2.8: 86mm, f/11, 1/5 sec, ISO 200

Lucky Flower

Sorrel and Ferns in Redwood Forest Redwood National Park, CA Willie, David, Miles and I spent a long weekend exploring the Redwood National and State Parks while trying to avoid getting COVID. We weren't sure if the trip would happen but it turned out things were looking better and we were able to escape our homes and safely play in nature (we took as many precautions as we could. Thankfully none of us contracted COVID during the trip). There's one particular grove that photographers flock to due to the rhododendron blooms that happen in the forest. Willie and I scouted it in the afternoon and we returned a few times. On one particular morning I saw Willie searching for his typical abstract photo of ferns overlapping each other. So of course I had to copy him and look for something similar. I spotted this patch of sorrel (not 4-leaf clover) and liked how the ferns were popping out of them. It wasn't until I got home that I realized there was a teeny flower that was making its way out of the sorrel. I just loved how it adds a splash of color to the scene. Nikon D850 w/Nikkor 24-70 f/2.8: 29mm, f/16, 1.3 sec, ISO 200

Minty Snowcone Surprise

Aurora over ice cracks and mountains Lofoten Islands, Norway Part of the reason for visiting the Lofoten Islands in Norway was to see the northern lights again. So when we saw the lights finally start to come out at the end of our trip, while eating dinner, we finished quickly and hopped in the car. Throughout the night we ended up nearly an hour and a half away, back near the town of Leknes. We were supposed to have our first day of backcountry skiing the next morning so we wanted to get *some* sleep and made our way back to the lodge. The aurora came out and went away throughout our hunting attempts. For a while it completely disappeared and we were content to go home and get some sleep. But at one point on the drive it came back out and I saw this mountain peak and screamed for Andy to find a spot to pull over. Once in a safe spot, he and Rebecca took a nap while I walked out to the shoreline and took some pictures. I was rather fortunate in that this was an unplanned, unspotted spot that turned out a nice surprise: frozen ice. There was a little rocky beach that gave me a place for unobstructed views and when I got out there, I saw the water had frozen into tons of cracked patterns. In the rush to capture the lights before they went away again, and to get back to bed, I forgot to take a photo focused on the foreground ice, so it ended up a bit blurry. It'll have to suffice but I loved the little scene. The tall peak here is called "Svarttinden" and a beautiful long bridge connects it to the next set of islands. Nikon D800 w/Nikkor 14-24mm f/2.8: 24mm, f/2.8, 6 sec, ISO 1600

Aurora Touring

Aurora over mountains Lofoten Islands, Norway Prior to 2017, I had visited Iceland 3 times: once in the summer and twice in the winter. I wanted to go back again to explore more ice-caves and see more aurora but Rebecca convinced me that I should do Norway instead. We compromised: a stopover in Iceland on our way to Norway. We invited Andy along, partially because I wanted his help actually *planning* the trip, but also because we thought he'd enjoy the views and the photography. Turned out he had another, even better idea: skiing. Our 7 day Norway photography trip became a 5 day one, with 2 days of backcountry skiing tacked on. He found a ski lodge in the eastern part of the Lofotens. A beautiful lodge provided a home base while trained alpine guides took you out to mountains. We had never done backcountry skiing (also known as "ski touring") before so it was a great way to get our feet "wet". They had gear to rent to us, so we didn't have to significantly increase our packed luggage. The ski lodge was in a quaint fishing village off the main road. As we turned off to arrive we came across this beautiful scene of mountain peaks (from left-to-right: Vågakallen, Kallebordet, Glomtinden (main peak), Nordfjellet, Nattmålskaret, Lyngværfjellet, Høgtinden). The fjord crossed this little bridge and would reflect the mountain peaks. So when the aurora started going off while we ate dinner, we raced back to this spot to capture the lights over the peaks. This was one of my favorite spots to sit and watch the aurora dance. Nikon D800 w/Nikkor 14-24mm f/2.8: 20mm, f/2.8, 6 sec, ISO 3200

Standing Tall Against the Incoming Monson

Hoodoos at Sunset Escalante National Monument, UT When Willie and I were preparing to visit Escalante National Monument in Utah we came across a photo of this scene by our friend Phil Monson. It was a beautiful picture and it inspired us to find and visit this spot. Inspiration is one of the things I love about photography. Some folks might call it "copying", "composition stomping" or lack of creativity, but the optimist in me sees it as flattery. Someone liked what you made so much they wanted to see it with their own eyes. While I won't take credit for the originality of this photo (thanks Phil!), it was beautiful to hang around here for an evening. Willie and I both loved the way that the setting sun reflected off the hoodoos and picked up that glow. A bit of clouds caught some color just after sunset for a final treat. Nikon D850 w/Nikkor 24-70mm f/2.8: 26mm, f/11, 1.6 sec, ISO 100

A Few in 6,800

NEOWISE Comet over Fog Silicon Valley, CA It's said that witnessing comet NEOWISE is a once in 6,800 year event, however, what does it mean if you can see it multiple times over the course of a month? Is it still "once in a..."???? Willie and I went out on multiple occasions to photograph the comet, both when it was visible at sunrise and when it was visible at sunset. The comet NEOWISE was first discovered on March 27, 2020 by the WISE space telescope. It consists of 2 tails, one of which is blue and made of of gas and ions (called the "ion tail") and the second, which is made of dust (the "dust tail"). Apparently a third tail was observed, which is a sodium tail. The first 2 tails (ion and dust) are visible here. We made a few sunset attempts to see the comet but we were flustered by smoky skies from a fire a few hours south. A few friends had taken some amazing photos from Marin and we decided we would shlep up there one evening.... but I had an idea that we might be able to see it from Windy Hill Open Space Preserve in Portola Valley, so the night before our Marin outing, we set off to see if we could skip driving 2 hours north. Sure enough we were in for a treat. At sunset the fog came in and created a beautiful foreground for witnessing the comet descend. The fog also blanketed the Bay Area, reducing some of the light pollution that would have washed out the comet. Instead we got a beautiful view of the sky. I strapped on a new 105mm f/1.4 lens so I could get the most amount of light in, and we were treated to this stunner. This is a combination of an ~85mm foreground photo with the 105mm sky photo. Yes, this is a composite (I'm not a lier or a hider of the truth). Nikon D850 w/Sigma 105mm f/1.4 and Nikkor 80-200mm f/2.8: Foreground: 80mm, f/8, 30 sec, ISO 400 Sky: 105mm, f/1.6, 3.0 sec, ISO 3200

Lupine Federal Bank

Lupine Field at Sunset Silicon Valley, California It's been a pretty nice winter and spring for photography but I've either been too busy with work, too lazy, or stuck indoors due to shelter-in-place to take advantage like some of my friends have been doing. Escaype was predicting a nice sunset and I was itching to get outside and with some encouraging words from Willie, I decided it was time to dust off the camera and hunt for some flowers. In case you're reading this years from now, this photo was taken during the Coronavirus Apocalypse of 2020. One nice thing about shelter-in-place was that there was hardly any traffic on the road. What would have been a 2 hour drive in rush-hour traffic took only 40 minutes. When I arrived, it turned out Willie had changed plans and decided to meet me. We kept 6+ feet away and hunted for the flowers. We found this patch of white lupines on a small hill facing sunset but the field we really wanted to find was too far away from where we parked, with not enough time to get back in the car. As the sun dropped below the hills, I Loved how it cast the entire field (and hills) in golden light. The last bit of light over the hills lit up the flowers in warm, beautiful tones. The wind blew the flowers in all different directions, so I bumped up my settings and fired away, hoping a few of them would capture the flowers as if they were calm and still. Nikon D850 w/Nikkor 14-24mm f/2.8: 19mm, f/10, 1/200 sec, ISO 800

Waterfall Cave

Waterfall Cave, Ice-Cave under glacier Vatnajökull, Iceland At SmugMug HQ we had an entire conference room dedicated to photos of ice-caves in Iceland. Most of the photos were taken by Iurie Belegurschi, who now runs photography workshops for a living and has some of the most amazing Iceland photos you'll ever see. There's this one photo of a man standing in the ice-cave with a giant waterfall gushing down it. Ever since I saw that photo I said to myself "I have to see this with my own eyes!" Inspiring people to travel is my main motivation for my photography, so I always love when someone else's photography motivates me to go see something unique. Entrepreneurs in Iceland run ice-cave tours, but most of those caves are dry when you go in them. Seeing an ice-cave with a waterfall -- now that's different! After visiting ice-caves in prior years I started reaching out to private ice-guides to see if any would be willing to take me to the waterfall cave. I found one and a few other photography friends and I decided to split the cost of the private tour. We met with our guide and promptly began driving out to the glacier in a gigantic raised 4x4 with huge wheels. Unfortunately we found ourselves stuck at one point due to snow/rain from the previous day causing a stream to fill with very wet, heavy snow. It took us about 30 minutes to dig the truck out and get going again. We then put on crampons and carefully made our way over the glacier and into the cave. Wow, what a sight! Unfortunately for us the delay meant the sunlight was starting to creep into the cave - creating harsh light spots and very difficult photo conditions. That didn't stop us. I knew I wanted to capture the water streaming in and placed the water as the main element in the photo. It's amazing how quickly the glaciers melt. On our way into the cave we came to a giant opening that we had to carefully climb down. Our guide instructed us that this had been the chamber I saw in the photo 2 years earlier. It was now completely exposed to the sky and the "waterfall" part of the cave was now lower and deeper in. Global warming in true form, right before our eyes. Nikon D800 w/Nikkor 14-24mm f/2.8: 14mm, f/13, 2.0 sec, ISO 100

Sunsets' Gym

Sunset over Seastacks San Francisco, California COVID put a major damper on my photography plans for 2020. As I look back through my photos for the year it became clear that there weren't many new photos. A couple sunset outings to the coast, a few Redwoods trips (and *lots* of tree photos) ... the Comet ... a few drone pictures ... so when any chance to get away from our normal day, get out of the house, and take some photos is appreciated. Willie and I have been photographing the San Francisco Bay Area coastline for nearly 10 years now, so we've photography most or all of the popular beaches more times than we want to count. It's easy to grow tired of them, so when he suggested we explore an area we hadn't shot before, I was very excited. The beach is really only "epic" at a super low tide, which we had on this evening. On higher tides, the beach is under water and it's extremely hard to photograph the coastline. Escaype correctly predicted a beautiful sunset. The color was isolated to a band just above the horizon but it surely was beautiful. I had intended to photograph a different part of the beach but the scene looked further south and the colors weren't quite reaching that way, so I picked up and redirected the scene. I loved how the rocks and the seastacks make a triangular line that sucks the eye in. I used a slow shutter to add to the lines in the scene. And of course the orange-red reflected light on the rocks seals the deal. Nikon D850 w/Nikkor 14-24mm f/2.8: 14mm, f/11, 0.6 sec, ISO 80

Winter Hats

Snow on the Merced River Yosemite National Park, CA Willie and I arrived in Yosemite just as winter storm Leo was wrapping up dumping over a foot of snow into Yosemite Valley. It was still snowing when we arrived and we made sure to take advantage of the snow to look for something different for our portfolio. Previously we had photographed the clearing winter storms -- Yosemite bathed in snow, but with skies turning blue and light entering the park. While we hoped the capture the clearing storm, we also wanted that shadowy, cold but peaceful look while it was still snowing. When you enter Yosemite Valley you're put into a giant one-way loop. You enter the valley, get to the Yosemite Village, and then can head back out (or to a number of destinations). While doing a lap around the valley we found ourselves exploring the meadow outside of Yosemite Falls. The Merced River was mostly just a stream and the foot of snow had landed on top of the rocks, making little hats dotting the river. I think we spent nearly 45 minutes trying to figure out the best way to photograph the snowcats and this was one of my favorite of the scenes. The river, following by beautifully snowy trees, with a mountainous backdrop to remind us we were in the mountains. Nikon D800 w/Nikkor 24-70mm f/2.8: 38mm, f/13, 1/100 sec, ISO 100

Sunburnt

Mud Cracks after Storm Painted Hills, Arizona After exploring some spots that Willie and I were familiar with, we set off for a new location in search of badlands and canyons. While driving along the road we saw some hills that looked like they could be interesting and we pulled over at an opening in the fence. While walking out to the hills, we stumbled upon something else... Willie and David promptly stopped in the middle of their tracks and explained "daaayyyum". These amazing mud cracks were peeling themselves away all around us. A winter stream that had dried up left beautiful cracked mud in its place. The sun was still quite high and made for some harsh lighting, so I was a little confused what David and Willie were seeing at first. But once I looked towards some of the shadows and the parts that weren't catching the blinding light, it was impossible not to ignore the beautiful shapes these peeling mud cracks were creating. This one reminded me of skin peeling off a sunburnt face. Nikon D800 w/Nikkor 24-70mm f/2.8: 36mm, f/7.1, 1/80 sec, ISO 200

Breckenrise

Sunrise over Mt. Powell Breckenridge, Colorado My coworker Ana is another landscape photographer like myself. She lives in Slovenia and has some of the most amazing photographs ever taken of her country. She visited the USA for manager training and realized that the end of the trip was perfect for photographing fall colors in Colorado and asked if I would join her. I've long wanted to shoot Colorado fall and this was a perfect excuse. We flew into Denver, picked up the rental car and spent our first night near Breckenridge. Our photographer friend, Nick Selway, had moved to Brek to open a photo gallery and met up with us for sunrise. He knew the perfect spot to take us for sunrise so we hopped in his car and drove about 20 minutes outside of town. I was the pessimist for the day -- the clouds looked too thick to light up. Nick, on the other hand, kept screaming "this is going to be great! Just you wait!" And sure enough when the sun rose over the hills behind us, the clouds over the mountains lit up with a beautiful orange. A dusting of snow fell overnight and capped the mountain peaks for just that extra bit of goodness. D850 w/Nikkor 80-200: 200mm, f/11, 1/30 sec, ISO 320

All Tangled Up

Algae covered Cypress tree Pt. Lobos State Reserve, CA I first came across a photo of the Monterey Cypress trees in Pt. Lobos State Nature Reserve while at work. Someone pulled up a photo and I thought it was one of the coolest things I had seen in a long time. I just loved the way the tree branches intertwined amongst each other, while white moss and green algae (which appears orange) give the entire scene a crazy mood. I knew I had to go see the trees for myself. Having been "trapped" in doors for weeks with the COVID lockdown, Sammi, Willie, Sarah and I were itching to get out into some nature. So we decided to drive down to Big Sur (separately so we'd be COVID safe) and get out into fresh air. Unfortunately so did a gazillion other people and it turned out that this day, New Years Day, was the busiest day in the park. A green algae, known as Trentepohlia, which ironically looks reddish orange on the trees, grows on these trees on the shadowy seaward side of the trees. Kicked up by the salty ocean spray, the algae attaches to the trees and they live in a natural harmony. It's orange color comes from carotene, the same pigment found in carrots. Trying to take pictures here is tough, especially on a crowded day, because there's a steep hill on one side, and a path with all the COVID carrying tourists on the other side. Setting up a large tripod and lens blocks the path, so Willie and I tried to be quick, get our photos, and get out of there. The scene doesn't make a "quick snap" easy though -- the massive depth of the trees and the telephoto lens mean that multiple photos are required, at various focus points. In this case, I used 6 photos, focused in different parts of the trees, to create more depth in the scene. I then used a computer program, Affinity Photo, to automatically determine the sharpest parts of each photo and blend the photo together into one fully focused photo. Nikon D850 w/Nikkor 70-200mm f/2.8: 120mm, f/16, 1/15 sec, ISO 320 6 photo focus stack

Damn that Path

Afternoon glow in the Redwood forest Redwood National Park, CA I've lived in the same home for over a decade but with so many beautiful hikes nearby, I've never really explored the neighborhood around me, other than to get groceries or eat at a restaurant. When COVID hit and the parks closed, I was forced to walk the neighborhood and I was shocked to find how many cute areas were within blocks of me. More surprising, was how there were Redwood trees all over my neighborhood, in peoples front and back yards. It definitely helped with feeling stuck at home while sheltering in place. But that itch to get out still persevered. When things started to improve at the end of May, Willie, David and I made a COVID-safe dash up to the Redwood National and State Parks in Northern California. Willie and I arrived first and explored a particular Redwood grove that we had hoped was filled with rhododendrons blooming. From the road it looked like the rhodies blooming all over, so we parked at a pull-out and followed a trail into the forest. Redwood photos look even more stunning when fog sets in, removing some of the distracting elements of a crowded forest. We had noticed fog as we drove in, but it was hugging the coast, so we followed the trail hoping it would take us back to the foggy areas. The trail led to no-where and we decided to turn back. Sometimes the best scenes are behind you, because on our walk back we realized we had walked right by this scene. I loved the way the bit of trail draws the eye into the forest, and some nice soft spot-lighting crept in through the trees. Nikon D850 w/Nikkor 24-70mm: 24mm, f/11, 1/40 sec, ISO 320

Before the Storm

Sunset over green hills Silicon Valley, CA I mentioned to Willie that I wanted to photograph more of the Bay Area hills and he was kind enough to invite me out to go shoot on a stormy evening. Actually, I think he just wanted me to drive him there (which is fine by me. Chauffeur Meyers at your service). When we arrived it started to drizzle. I was a little worried that the rain wouldn't play nice with the drones, but the rain stopped and we thought it was safe to launch. We spent about 25 minutes exploring the area before bringing the drones back. Just as we went to launch the second battery, the rain came back, so we took a little break and waited for the sun to dip lower in the sky. We had been waiting for a gap -- low clouds blocked the light, then the clouds gave way, before the sun dipped below the mountains. When the sun did finally hit the sweet spot, we had the drones in the air to capture the way it illuminated patterns onto the hills. The sky caught a bunch of the glow as well. Later on the sky turned pink and purple, before pouring and hailing on me while I drove home. DJI Mavic 2 Pro: 10.26mm, f/4, 1/120 sec, ISO 100

Eggs Benedict

Cloudy night skies over salt flats Death Valley National Park, California I'm not quite sure why the name "Eggs Benedict" stuck out in my mind. Perhaps it's because these salt flats reminded me of the shape of eggs, and you've got the white/yellow (ok, in this case reddish brown) contrast. Or maybe it was just because I was ready for breakfast when I took this prior to 6am. Willie and I had scouted this area on a previous trip but the salt wasn't quite good looking at the time. That's Death Valley for you... some years the salt flats are beautiful and others they're not. It all depends on the rain and how frequently there was last water in the area. It was March and we decided it was cool enough to camp (hah, yes, "cool" enough since it can be 120°F in the summer). We set out early in the morning and got out to the location while the moon was still up. I loved the way it made the scene glow. And oddly enough, that night it rained on us. It's the one time I've been camping in the rain, and it happened at Death Valley of all places! Nikon D850 w/Nikkor 14-24mm f/2.8: 14mm, f/11, 1.0 sec, ISO 100

Follow the Pink Fog Road

Foggy sunrise enveloping San Francisco Hawk Hill, San Francisco, California All of us that live in the Bay Area have grown accustomed to the fog. Although we don't get much rain, we do get fog. It's our version of "weather", and if you live in SF, it's the thing you check on a daily basis in the summer. No fog and there will be a beautiful warm day. But on the days when the fog rolls in, San Francisco can be 20-30 degrees colder than the rest of the area. The forecast had called for low fog on this particular morning, so naturally there were a bazillion photographers on Hawk Hill when I arrived with Zack. I had been to the same spot the morning previous with Willie for another morning of beautiful fog. The fog height was higher than we wanted for the Golden Gate Bridge, so I focused my attention on the way the fog was enveloping San Francisco. I used a longer telephoto lens to get into the city. In this capture, I Loved how the rising sun was glowing off the top of the fog, making what looks like a road into the city. Nikon D850 w/Nikkor 80-200mm f/2.8: 135mm, f/11, 0.6 sec, ISO 80

Taking a Break

Sunset at Secret Beach Brookings, Oregon One thing I've noticed when taking pictures is that if you stare at a scene too much, you end up taking the same photos over and over again. So it was nice to get away from the Redwood forests and rhododendron blooms and see something different for this sunset. Miles had wanted to photograph some of the Oregon coast and since it was only 30 minutes away, we decided to hop on up. He knew of a few beaches and we stopped at 3 or 4 before deciding to head to Secret Beach. We arrived after a mile hike, in which we were *very* careful not to step on Poison Oak, which filled the sides of the trails at every step (and of course when we arrived, I set my camera down in a clearing surrounded by more Poison Oak). Thankfully none of us ended up touching the Poison Oak. The seastacks along the Oregon coast are known for there bulbous shapes that dot the coastline. Secret Beach is no different and was a beautiful place to watch sunset. At one point David walked out onto these rocks for a selfie, and he was a perfect model in my composition. I ended up loving having the human element in this photo. It reminded me of the break we were taking from life, from COVID, from the Redwoods and Rhodes ... and even the break David was taking from photographing to just BE IN THE MOMENT. Nikon D850 w/Nikkor 14-24mm f/2.8: 18mm, f/22, 1.3 sec, ISO 31

Sneffels Milk

Milky Way over Mt. Sneffels Uncompahgre National Forest, Colorado Growing up in the east coast I always loved fall. My parents house is surrounded by trees that would make a mess for my brothers and I to have to clean up. Of course that meant we got to rake big piles of leaves for us to jump into too! Yet when I got into photography I somehow never made a trip to Colorado to photograph the fall colors. The finally changed when my coworker Ana invited me to join her in 2019. We flew into Denver, stopped at Breckenridge, had our car break down in Crested Butte and then finally made it to the San Juan mountains. Fall colors were nearly peaking with the Aspen trees lighting up with beautiful yellow and orange. Unfortunately there wasn't a cloud in the sky our entire trip. David had taught me to make due with the conditions we had. Cloudless skies meant that epic grand scenes were off the table, so I looked for more abstract scenes I could zoom in on. Ana and I had spent the afternoon and evening looking for scenes along this particular county road. Just as the sun went down we found ourselves at this particular spot and nearly packed up when the other photographers did, but I had an idea: what if we stayed another hour and let the Milky Way come up. The view faced perfectly south and I knew the Milky Way would rise perfectly over Mt. Sneffels. We had bread and peanut-butter for dinner so of course we waited and this is what unfolded before our eyes. When the moon came out it also provided just a touch of light onto the Aspen trees to make them glow. D850 w/Nikkor 24-70mm: 62mm, f/2.8, 8.0 sec, ISO 800

Crystal Sparkles

Sunrise on Aspen trees Uncompahgre National Forest, Colorado My coworker, Ana, had spent some time in Colorado in the past and had some ideas on where we should scout for photos. When we arrived in the San Juan Mountains we spent a few days driving along dirt roads in search of beautiful mountain scenes. We had some time to kill one day and wanted to see what the colors were like in Ouray and made our way there. Along the way we passed beautiful strands of trees and every 2 seconds I wanted to get out and shoot but sun was high in the sky and most of the scenes were meh. We came upon an alpine lake and got out to take iPhone photos when I realized the high mountain peaks nearby were providing some protection from the harsh light. It was just starting to spotlight a strand of trees high up in the mountain and I thought "damn, I need to capture this." I literally sprinted back to the car because I knew the light wouldn't last long. I grabbed the bazooka lens and my camera and raced back a few steps to get a better line at the hills. Sure enough the light hit some of these aspens and made them glow like crystals. I couldn't help myself. Nikon D850 w/Sigma 150-600mm: 180mm, f/11, 1/250 sec, ISO 400

Spotlit

Sunrise on Aspen trees Uncompahgre National Forest, Colorado As I prepared for my Colorado fall colors trip with my coworker Ana, I asked my friend David if I should bring the "bazooka" lens (my ultra-telephoto). He looked at me as if I was an idiot for asking. *OF COURSE* I should bring it. I'm glad I did because some of my favorite photos were taken with the super telephoto lens. This one included. Ana and I spent a couple days in Breckenridge and Crested Butte before spending the rest of our time in the San Juan mountains. On this particular morning we had scouted a county road for fall colors. We had seen a pretty epic view the night before but it really needed clouds in the sky to make it work. On this particular sunrise there wasn't a cloud in the sky. We photographed the grand scene but it was just missing something, so I put the wide angle lens away and waited for the sun to strike the Aspen trees. As it came up I could see this particular grove of Aspen trees was able to be baked in warm beautiful light, so I grabbed that super telephoto lens and waited for the light to hit it. I loved how it spotlit the yellow Aspen trees. I photographed this for about 30 minutes and watched as the light changed every minute, lighting more and more of the trees, until the whole scene was blown out by too much light. D850 w/Sigma 150-600mm: 480mm, f/9, 1/100 sec, ISO 500