Light. Sight. Painting with light. The art of seeing. Hallelujah, I have seen the light! That’s what photography is all about, right? The art of using light, especially natural light, to share your vision with others so that they may see the light, too.
Come take a journey with me, up and down the California coast chasing that beautiful natural light. Some times of day are better than others, but we’ll be out at all hours of the day, as every kind of light can capture some mood or be best for a certain subject.
Sunrise at the Cabrillo Point lighthouse near Mendocino.
We’ll start at dawn. I’m not much of one for getting up early, so it’s an effort, but it’s worth it. No, don’t roll over and go back to sleep because you peeked out and it was foggy. The soft light captured in those early morning mists can transform the mundane into the sublime.
Fog and early morning light can transform the mundane into the sublime.
Stormy days are no reason to stay inside, either. Before long, you may find that many of your most dramatic images were taken on bad weather days. Check out my opening wave for another example.
A beach in Ft. Bragg
Besides, you’ll never catch a rainbow without a little rain!
Westport, CA
Calm, cloudy days are wonderful for flowers, animals, forest and beachcombing shots. Colors are richer and harsh shadows are eliminated.
Cloudy is best for most living things, like this egret reflected in the water of the slough at Moss Landing State Beach.
Partly cloudy days are good times to learn patience and watch the light change with each passing cloud. You can capture the same scene in many different moods by just staying put and seeing how the constantly changing light transforms your subject.
Waves at Point LobosSee how the mood changes with a small change in the lighting.
Bright sun is not my favorite lighting. It works well for some scenes with bright colors and bold contrasts. If you have to pick a time of day to catch some lunch, recharge batteries and catch up on the internet, chose the middle of the day. Sometimes, though, you have to just use what you got and make the best of it as I tried to do with this image of elephant seals at Piedras Blancas Wildlife Reserve.
Kicking sand in the face of a bully at the beach
Bright sun is also good for backlighting, especially during the golden hour.
Late afternoon light is great for backlighting.
That’s the golden hour of late afternoon light, followed closely by sunset. My favorite time of day, since I’m a lazy slacker who doesn’t like getting up early in the morning.
Sunset at Pigeon Point
It’s not over ’til it’s over. Even if it’s cloudy and you don’t think a sunset is going to happen, the sun may break through at the last minute and reward you with something special. Follow that sunset from the first warm colors to the last.
God rays in the sunset at Asilomar State Beach near Monterey
To the last minute and then some, capturing the last glimmers of natural light deep into the dusk.
Secret Beach
Thank you, Amy of The World Is A Book, for bringing us this week’s Lens-Artists Photo Challenge, Natural Light.
This week’s Lens-Artists Photo Challenge is all about sharing some of our favorite images from 2020. I have a lot of favorites, so for this post, I’ll stick to photos I have not yet published in this blog.
Bird yoga
It’s been a rough year. I won’t deny it. 2020 was rife with difficulties, angst, despair, and uncertainty for me. It’s been surreal and dystopian for me, just as it has been for many others. But mixed in with all the challenges were many moments filled with beauty, gratitude, love, and appreciation. I even got some traveling in before things got crazy.
February was the calm before the storm. I landed a dream housesit, 6 weeks in Mendocino County, California, home of redwoods and fabulous wild beaches. I’ve been doing a lot of housesitting the last 3 winters, taking full advantage of my opportunities to explore all the wonders of the West. This one was the best housesit ever. I cherished every day.
Sunset on a wild Mendo beach
The homeowners came back a week early due to fears about Covid. I decided to stick with my original plan and camp out in the desert for the spring. I made an end run to the Sierras to avoid California’s urban areas, where the very first cases were being reported.
Stormy day in Yosemite
I thought I had a good plan – to stay isolated and healthy and still enjoy the flowers. Then they started to close all the public lands. I ended up in lockdown in Las Vegas. This was especially surreal for me, a woman who had scrupulously avoided urban areas her entire adult life.
Desert Sunrise
I was desperate for a touch of nature. The parks in town were too tame and too crowded. I found my wildland fix in some of the wastelands on the edge of town, the neglected and desperate dumping grounds in the desert where people abandon old tires, refrigerators, possibly bodies ( after all, this IS Vegas we’re talking about here). I tried to look past the graffiti-covered rocks and bags of garbage, cherishing the brilliant wildflowers growing there that thrived despite the abuse of the landscape. They were lifesavers for me, helping to ground me when I was overcome with despair.
Bear Poppies
The most important lifesaver, though, was friendship. This pandemic really helped me realize that I was loved and that people cared about me, at a time when I needed that support most.
I’m thankful for my friends.
I headed north again in mid-April. I wasn’t sure of my destination. Some of the public lands were opening up. At least I could get out of the city. I’d been warned that my summer job was canceled due to Covid and I was torn between going north to Alaska, where I had a home and a community but no prospects for employment, or staying south where there was at least some possibility of finding work.
Hanging out in the redwoods
I interviewed with Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park in northern California and spent a couple of weeks camping in northern California and southern Oregon, waiting to hear whether or not I’d landed the job. While waiting, I got a call from my boss in Alaska. There WAS a job for me! I could go home!
I love summer in Alaska!
Summer was subdued but a wonderful respite. One thing 2020 has certainly taught me has been to appreciate every day, every moment because tomorrow is not promised. I am incredibly grateful for all the good in my life. Words cannot express how grateful I am for my home, my friends, my family, my community, and the wonderful life I’ve been fortunate enough to live.
I really appreciate my home – and my view!
With fall I faced the uncertainty and angst again. Should I go south where I would be more likely to find work, or stay in Alaska, where I have a safety net of friends? I hate the cold and dark, but I felt travel was irresponsible and the political chain of events I could foresee that is playing out now tipped the scales. I decided to stay.
The future is still a little foggy…
It hasn’t been easy. I thought I’d landed a job, even filled out the hiring paperwork, then saw it canceled due to Covid. Lodging options I’d lined up fell through twice. SAD syndrome struck, and I’ve had my moments of doubt and despair.
This image is my visual impression of 2020 – wacked -out, scattered, lost and direction-less – but with many beautiful moments, too.
But once again, the love of my friends is pulling me through. I know I’m not alone and that many of us are struggling. I’m doing much better than I was a month ago and I feel hopeful about whatever the future will bring.
We’re in this together.
I think about the lessons that 2020 has taught me. Lessons about kindness and compassion. Lessons about appreciation and gratitude. Lessons about being present in the moment. 2020 has made me realize how much I love and cherish all the wonderful people in my life. I try not to take so much for granted these days.
Winter alpenglow on Matanuska Peak
There have been many moments of great beauty for me this past year, despite the craziness and uncertainty. All the same, I’m happy to see the end of 2020. I hope we all find better days ahead.
