Ruffed Grouse, and stuff...

Canon 7D, 70-200f2.8L IS, f2.8, 1/200th second, ISO 1600, handheld.

This lovely Ruffed Grouse visited a tree just outside one of my cabin's windows day before yesterday. I had just a moment to snap an image or two before it wandered off into the woods. Which leads me to a thought:

Chase Jarvis the excellent commercial and lifestyle photographer and teacher, has a new book out called The Best Camera (is the one that's with you). It is a collection of his images shot from his iphone as well as some thoughts on opportunistic photography. I haven't read it, and probably won't for a while. Nothing against the book, I'm sure its great, but I've got a stack of photo books I'm working my way through and that one is way down at the bottom somewhere. However the POINT of the book is very clear- Have a camera with you. Always. The image above is representative of that. It seems like, much to my girlfriend's chagrin, that I always have a camera somewhere within arm's reach. Camera gear is scattered about our very small cabin, and it constantly gets in the way. But THIS is why. If I'd had to go digging for a camera, the grouse would have wandered off and I would have missed it entirely. But because I had my 7D sitting on a nearby chair, mounted with the 70-200, I got the image. No it isn't as good as it would have been had I had the chance to mount up the 500 on a tripod, but it's a perfectly acceptable image that I got because I was ready. So carry a camera. Always.

Icy Sunset

Canon 7D, 70-200f2.8L IS, 1/250th at f9.0, ISO 100

I'm afraid there is no denying it anymore, autumn is over, even if winter's snow has not yet arrived. There are people skating on the local ponds and talk has gone from admiring the indian summer to eager for snow. This time of year, as I noted a few days back, is also extremely good for photography. The morning and evening colors last forever, the stars are bright and fill the sky from horizon to horizon each cloudless night.

This image is of frozen Ballaine Pond on the University of Alaska Fairbanks campus. Crystals of frost were forming on top of the ice and that is why I stopped, but it wasn't the crystals that drew my attention, but the way the trees and fading sun reflected off the ice.

Different

Canon 7d, 70-200f2.8L IS, Handheld, 1/640th, f8.0, ISO 100

This is a rather atypical wildlife shot for me. It falls very much in to the "art" realm of my imagery. I've seen this kind of image (atypical framing and lighting, no distinct subject, but telling something of a story) fairly regularly in the fine art photography blogs and web sites. Most of my work falls into more classic structure. Yet I still kind of like this one. It's different, I don't feel like I've seen the image before, it tells a story and provides some scale. With increasing demand for atypical imagery, perhaps this kind of work has a future...

On another topic entirely, I'm currently reading David duChemin's book "Within the Frame". It is an excellent read, not about the technology of photography, but about vision. There are a million books out there on how to operate a camera, how to expose, depth of field, and other very teachable subjects. However, there are VERY few books on how to see. "Within the Frame" is one, "The Inner Game of Outdoor Photography" by Galen Rowell is another. So is the "Tao of Photography" by Gross and Shapiro. Teaching how to see, teaching art, is extremely difficult but learning it is even harder. These writers provide some insight into their techniques. I highly recommend you read them all. Carefully. And over and over again.

Flaming Birch

Canon 7D, 70-200f2.8L IS, 1/125th second @ f2.8, ISO 100, tripod mounted

This time of year can be difficult. Each day we are losing about seven minutes of sunlight. But what that means in terms of photography is that the sun rises less and less above the horizon and the light is long and sweet.

Backlighted images like this can be tricky. Its impossible, and not even desirable in a situation like this to expose for all of it. I much prefer the glowing, almost cloudy appearance of this. Closer to how this looked in reality, and much, much closer to how the scene felt.

P.S. I figured how to make the images on here bigger. I think its a BIG improvement. I hope you agree.

The Last Days of Autmn

Since I acquired my Canon 7D last week I've been experimenting quite a bit with video, and mixture of video and stills. This is video, which I hope will become the first of a series, is the outcome of my initial experimentation. Enjoy. By the way, the music is by A.A. Bondy. He's great, you should really buy one of his albums.

Alaska: The Last Days of Autumn from David Shaw on Vimeo.

More Autumn

Canon 40d, 17-40 f4.0 L, @26mm
ISO 100, f11, 1/10th second, handheld.
(Trick to handheld sharpness- sit down low, brace elbows on knees,
and click the shutter as you exhale.)

My good friend Cameron and I spent an afternoon tromping around the tundra of the White Mountains with our cameras in mid-September. It was a nearly perfect day for photography with a mix of sunshine, cloud shadows, rain squalls, rainbows, and rich clouded-colors. We hiked a few miles to the top of a ridge, then dropped down to a creek where I made this image. New England has the reputation of the best fall foliage, but Alaska, well Alaska is something else entirely. The window of color is brief, lasting maybe a week or two in a good year. But the colors are extraordinary. It is just like walking through a Vermont hardwood forest, except that all the trees are at knee level. Willows erupt with gold, Dwarf Birch spill like hot orange lava across the land, and Blueberries shed the color of a rich, red sunset. Dark granite and endless mountains. Really, what can be better than Alaska? I love this place.

Last Leaves

Canon 7D, 70-200mm f2.8L IS at 200mm
f2.8, 1/40th second, ISO 400, handheld.

This is the first processed image out of my brand spanking new, hot off the assembly-line, first-shipment Canon 7D. I'll do a review of my impressions of the camera at a later time, but I wanted to post this image that I made yesterday. Most of the leaves are now gone, but a few linger here and there, clinging delicately to their twigs. We've been graced by an incredible autumn, it was near 60 today, and I'm trying to relish every moment of it. Certainly, it can't last forever.