I’ve taken a lot of trips this year to the western U.S. to photograph ”grand landscapes.” Living and shooting in the east presents several challenges to me as a professional nature photographer. Let’s face it—people respond positively to grand scenic landscapes. Show them dozens of great shots from a flat and featureless landscape (such as the Chesapeake Bay), and you might get some nods of approval, but show them one poorly composed, middle-of-the-day, flatly lit shot of Half Dome in Yosemite, and suddenly you hear oohs and aahs. Most viewers respond to the scenery first and foremost, and the artistic nature of the image (or lack thereof) second. Which means I now spend a lot of time and money traveling to scenic locations far afield, and have focused less and less on the more subtle (but in my opinion, no less beautiful) landscapes where I live.
I recently spent a day photographing Blackwater National Wildlife Refuge, located on the Eastern Shore of Maryland and part of the Chesapeake Bay tidal estuary. Blackwater offers little to someone looking to make a stunning grand landscape photograph—no giant snow-capped mountain peaks here, nor raging waterfalls or wild seas pounding against a rocky coast. Nope, just some marsh grass, a few trees, and lots and lots of water: pretty much as featureless as you can get. In my humble opinion, however, it is precisely the kind of landscape where your skills as a photography are truly challenged and honed. I don’t think it’s all that difficult to make a stunning image of stunning subject matter; when your subject is stunning to begin with, most of your work has already been done for you. But to make a beautiful image in a barren landscape—to make something out of nothing—now that’s what separates the men from the shuttermonkeys.
It’s a fundamental lesson that many photographers forget: you have to shoot what Nature offers you. Every natural area has its own special and unique beauty, and your job as a photographer is to discover it, and to find a way to express it to others. If Nature offers beautiful and rugged mountain scenery, shoot it. If Nature offers abundant wildlife, shoot it. If Nature offers mud and slime . . . shoot it. Find a way to find what’s beautiful, and to express each area’s unique character. That beauty might not reveal itself all at once—it may take special light or the right time of year for it to emerge—just don’t stop until you find it.
My day at Blackwater reminded me of these simple truths. Fortunately, the Eastern Shore was displaying its beauty that day, full force. Heavy rain the day before, followed by clear skies and cooling temperatures overnight, created a thin layer of ground fog at sunrise. I spent three years photographing the Chesapeake Bay and its tidal tributaries for my book Chesapeake: Bay of Light. During that time, the Bay revealed its beauty to me in many ways. My favorites, however, were those rare days when the water was completely still, and the horizon obscured by haze or fog. The line between water and sky would become completely indistinct, merging into a seemless whole. This was one of those days.
I made this image of five Canada geese early in the morning, with soft warm light filtering through the fog. Don’t like Canada geese? Do you feel that they are an uninteresting species, maybe even a nuisance? Tough: shoot them anyway. Even “uninteresting” species can make compelling photographic subjects. I don’t care if it’s a picture of a rat—if photographed properly, it can be just as stunning as a picture of a Siberian tiger. For this image, spacing of elements was vital. I made sure that the five geese didn’t overlap at all, and waited for the right moment, such as when the goose on the far right flapped its wings. Instead of trying to zoom in just on the distant geese, I opted for a wider “landscape” shot, to show the geese in the context of their foggy marsh environment. Canon 5D Mark II camera, Canon 100-400mm lens @400mm, f/8, 1/200 sec., ISO 100.
Next I photographed sunlight filtering through fog in a grove of trees. The forests that line the Blackwater River are not terribly exciting—there are no towering giants like the redwoods of the West Coast—but in the right conditions even mundane forest can appear magnificent. I intentionally kept my exposure low for this shot, to render the tree trunks in silhouette and to lend a gloomy feel to the image. Canon 5D Mark II camera, Canon 100-400mm lens @105mm, f/16, 1/200th sec., ISO 200.
Even after the sun started to burn through the fog, the remarkably still conditions were perfect for shooting reflections. I found this heron, standing quite still in flawless blue water, and set up to shoot, waiting for the right moment. Just before flying away, the heron opened its beak briefly, striking the perfect pose. Now, I’ll be the first to admit that I usually don’t get too jazzed about shooting herons—I’ve photographed more herons than you can shake a stick at, as the saying goes. But no matter how many herons I’ve shot, that’s what the Chesapeake Bay keeps offering up. And I would never pass on conditions like this, even if my subject was a pigeon! Canon 5D Mark II camera, Canon 500m lens w/1.4x teleconverter, f/5.6, 1/400th sec., ISO 200.
The day ended with fire. High clouds drifted in and were set alight by the last rays of the sun. Unfortunately, I had nothing but scrubby marsh at my disposal. No excuses, however, I needed to find something that would make the image work. When photographing a featureless landscape, I always look for an element to simplify a composition, such as an abstract shape or line, whether it be in the land or sky. Here, the curve of marsh grass creates a foreground that relates to the curving clouds in the sky. And that’s the unique beauty of the Bay—revealed best when marsh, water, and sky come together as one. Canon 5d Mark II camera, Canon 24-105mm lens @ 24mm, f/16, 1/10th sec., ISO 100.
No matter where you shoot, always try to find something special, something unique to your subject, that creates a compelling image. It might not be as well received as a stunning western landscape, but you’ll have the satisfaction of knowing that you had the skill to create something out of nothing.
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