landscape photography

It all starts with a plan; what is your vision?

Spring is a great time if you love nature. Especially in Finland; suddenly it’s light until 9, 10 and 11 PM. The sun shines, the air is warm and everything starts getting green again. And yet, exactly this time of year is a sort of gap time for me.

There is no ice on the sea or the shores, so the seascapes are boring. Sunset and sunrise (especially) are suddenly at ridiculous times of day. It’s slightly too cold for grasses or any plants to grow, so it’s not green yet. There are no insects, and the birds haven’t moved back from the South yet.

But, it’s a good time to look back at the previous year and come up with plans for the current one. I also go through my photos and create my yearly book of highlights. It is going to be interesting this year, because as I said in my last post, I felt like I was in a rut for a good while. But it’s not ready yet, so I’ll leave you in suspense. Instead, here are a few photos I’ve actually taken during a few months while waiting for so called better conditions.

The first set was taken up North where there still is some snow. I think they illustrate the ‘seeing’ and ‘feeling’ I talked about in the last post quite well. How do I see? What do I feel? Let’s start with something that didn’t work out.

I had a vision. Heavy snowfall, traditional Finnish forest, and simplicity. So when it started snowing heavily I had to figure out where I could find minimalism; the middle of a frozen lake. It took me quite a while to walk out there, but I knew I wouldn’t get a good perspective from anywhere else. I had a picture in mind, but despite trying hard, the above wasn’t it. So; what works, what doesn’t?

I love the streaking snowfall (took me around 20 shutter speed tests to get it right, this was at 1/15th of a second). I like the island and I like the positioning of it, smack in the middle. But. The foreground branch does not work as a foreground. It’s way too small and/or too far away. Most people don’t understand what it is immediately (it’s a marker for a fishing net under the ice). And then the big problem; there aren’t many elements, but this image is not minimal. It’s the background. Even though the falling snow helps a lot with subject separation, the background still clutters the image too much. I don’t feel the image conveys what I want. So, I gave up and moved a bit.

More streaking snow, dramatic(-ish) skies, traditional Finnish lakeside houses and a mast for interest; you can see the top of the mast is covered in cloud, that’s deliberate. I like this one, but still not what I was looking for. Minimalism, remember? Next scene was this:

Two things drew me to this; the just-right amount of snow on the trees on the right. And the utter, beautiful, white emptiness behind them. I knew this was the best I could find, but how to compose such a scene? The trees on the right continued all round to the right; on the left, there was some open lake and the island from the first photo. And, as you can see, there were skiers out and about. Do I want a person in the shot?

I’m a firm believer in the following statement; in the right conditions and the right place, landscape photography becomes child’s play. The difficulty, and it is sometimes extremely difficult, is to be at the right place at the right time. Most of the time, you’ll fail. But when the stars align and everything comes together, it just takes a single shutter press to capture your vision.

I also have a version without a skier if I change my mind later; but for now this is it, this is my choice. And I created it, by careful thought from idea to execution. There is no photoshopping whatsoever. The whiteout is natural; the other shore is 10+ kilometers away. The snow streaks are subtle but clearly visible. There are no distractions anywhere, yet enough detail to keep interest. And the skier makes it a pure form of Finland; despite hostile and miserable conditions, we press on. Also, did you notice the image isn’t black-and-white?

Landscapes are what I love most; the grueling aspect of finding the correct place, waiting for the correct time and weather, and snapping a single moment in time to remember it. But nature is more than that; nature is also about the life in it. Right now, nature is awakening and the first birds have just managed to find their way back to Finland. There are animals to photograph, if you can find them, but most animals will start moving around after a few weeks. At my level, my plan for animals is ‘find them’. Not the best plan, but it’s something I can do.

I’d love to photograph e.g. foxes, but I can honestly say I don’t know where my local foxes hang out. So, for now, I just take images of birds I see while I’m out. And, the more photos you take (with intention), the more chance there is that you’ll get lucky. Some of those shots might even convey a feeling, or your vision. But for now, I’m just practicing keeping any animal in my viewfinder for long enough to take a picture. Soon, spring will be here in full force, and I need to be ready. Having one image out of literally hundreds turn out OK is a nice bonus though.

Hi Bob!

Getting a great photo is not just about luck. You have to know why you’re taking the image first, before you press the shutter. You have to feel it. Most of the time you won’t be satisfied with what you got, and that needs to be OK. Sometimes, you will be in the right place at the right time. When that happens, don’t hesitate, don’t second-guess. If you’ve taken enough bad photos, you know what to do to take a good one instinctively. In the meantime, keep on going out, keep on looking for animals and landscape locations, and keep an eye on the forecast. And don’t judge yourself for not liking your own work; figure out why you don’t, and do it better next time. When you have a vision, the rest will come naturally.

Re-learning how to see and feel - a year after Norway

It took me a while. Almost a year, in fact. But finally, I’m inspired again. I wake up (way too) early for sunrises, I stare out of the office window longingly for sunsets, and I take some time off a lazy weekend to go outside to shoot some birds in the neighborhood. I have my mojo back. But what happened last year?

After returning from Norway (see the last posts for that one), it took me a long while to go through the photos and write about the trip. I was too tired, too exhausted to think about the trip or the pictures. In fact, it took me months to finish processing and writing. When spring arrived last year, I had no inspiration left. I barely took my camera anywhere. Summer came and went. I took pictures, but I wasn’t feeling it. Everything just seemed ‘meh’. Even images that in hindsight are pretty nice felt like crap at the time. I had lost my way.

Looking at my collection, I have way less pictures from last year than any previous. And most of the pictures I do have are from Norway. How could Finland, and especially my little boring corner of Finland, compare to Lofoten? Thinking on it, having my Lofoten and Senja pictures constantly visible as my laptop screensaver probably didn’t help with the melancholy.

I wish I knew what finally snapped me out of it so I can do that sooner next time. But trying to find images for this post, I remember two moments from last year that stand out. And both involve a random animal encounter. Now, the pictures aren’t very good; I was out of practice and messed up the settings on both. But I did get something.

The first one was in late August and I was out at the cottage. Out of old habit, my camera hang off my shoulder (you never know, right?). I saw a dark spot moving in the corner of my eye, above some reeds. I didn’t see what it was, but it caught my attention so I went to take a closer look. I couldn’t see anything, but three ducks I had seen earlier in the same spot had started panicking. And I knew. I lifted my camera and waited. A minute later, a big harrier (Western marsh harrier to be exact) burst forth from the trees to try to grab a duck. It missed, but I didn’t. Much.

After that day, something in me changed. I slowly started trying again. I drove out to the usual spots a few times in search of sunset colors. The topmost photo is the only decent one of the bunch, but it was something. That wasn’t the second trigger though; that was another chance encounter, a few hundred meters from my apartment building. I was out taking potshots at small birds late in November, during one of the few sunny days we had during the lovely (not really) early winter. I was crouched in a bush, trying to get a few Blackbirds to pose for me beside a small stream that runs through the area, when I saw something I’d never though I’d see in the city. A mink. I don’t know if it was just passing through or if it lives here. I’ve never seen it before, and haven’t seen it since. But I did get a picture.

Winter arrived along with the typical darkness, smothering all hope of taking pictures outside. December in Turku is typically wet, dark and miserable, and this year wasn’t any different. But in January, we got finally got snow. And with the snow and sunny days, I started feeling strange urges. Against my better judgement, during multiple days, I set my alarm clock to ring earlier than it had any right to. I put on a lot of clothes, packed my bag, and went in search for sunrise photos.

Of course, when you actually start trying, you’ll find that nature can be a cruel mistress. I didn’t get light a single time I went out. Those beautiful pink still mornings? Nowhere to be seen. But I can be a bit pigheaded with these things, and took pictures anyway. I worked with what I had. I took my time and thought about composition. I pre-planned locations, times and angle of light. And even though the vast majority of pictures aren’t worthy of an audience, I did it again and again.

I was hoping for 1) mist to cover the back trees or 2) beautiful colors in the sky, or 3) anything. But I learned what works and what doesn’t. And to not rush things.

Going out to try, even though I had no guarantees to get anything, was the best thing I’ve done for myself for a long, long time. Standing on the golf course above, an hour before sunrise, composition ready, waiting for the light, and with such absolute stillness and silence around me is one of the best memories I have of the whole year. It doesn’t matter that the pictures didn’t turn out the way I wanted; I still have something to remember the experience with. And I think all that practice taught me a few things.

Oftentimes, as much as you plan, you don’t get anything. Sometimes, you get something completely different to what you expect. A very, very cold day late January I took a good friend skiing to a nearby nature reserve. Turns out it’s no fun skiing in almost -20 degrees, so I only had about one and a half hour for my own thing. The plan was to take a panorama of the snow-covered marsh, with a snow-covered forest as a wall in the distance. A simple but effective image that represents the Finnish winter perfectly. I ended up getting distracted pretty quickly. And I’m glad I did.

These sort of crystals only form when it’s very cold. I typically don’t have extension tubes with me, but this time I did. And I definitely did not notice the out of focus reflection until I lined up the twig in my viewfinder. But as soon as I saw it, the training kicked in; I must’ve spent 10 minutes just lining up the branch, my tripod and the background. I took dozens of pictures with different focus and different apertures to get what I wanted. I knocked the branch multiple times, making me wait for it to stop swinging. I was so worried I had destroyed the ice crystals each and every time i messed up. But I didn’t. And I produced a proper Photograph, for the first time in almost a year.

After that photo, it feels like the flood gates have opened. I go out multiple times a week. I think about composition, I plan ahead and I make sure I’m not rushed. I’ve found a calmness I can’t remember having, ever. Luckily, that also works well with the Finnish winter. I feel like I’ve been able to capture the cold serenity I experienced. Not by chance, but skill.

But the pictures aren’t the point. What’s way, way more important is I now reserve time for myself, to be outside, to enjoy nature once again. I don’t care that there aren’t any mountains, any fjords, any racing rivers. I can appreciate the nature around me for what it is. The pictures from the last few weeks are some of the best I have ever taken. But they are nothing compared to once again having opened my eyes and seeing the world around me. I hope I never loose that again.

Senja and Lofoten, part 10: All good things...

When I woke up the next day and looked outside, I was met with very gray skies. I felt a bit down, but mostly relieved; I had gotten out the morning before and got some amazing images. Now I could sleep in and not feel disappointed with myself for not getting out. 

During the night, the snow had come rolling in. What was just a cloud bank on the horizon was now thick clouds with occasional snowfall, adding more fresh snow to the already impressive amount. I was in no hurry anywhere. It was my last full day, and I had a very early start the next day. I ate a good breakfast and packed down most of my stuff that I didn't need. I decided to drive around a bit just to scout the area. I knew there was no photos to be had, but at least I'd have a record of the area for next time.

A good sunrise location, just not today.

Ytresand beach.

I tried to find inspiration to take some photos that day. I really did. But I was tired. I had been on the trip for 11 days now, and I was really feeling it. The location was still as beautiful as ever, and the weather wasn't all that bad, but I just kind of gave up. It was enough. There is only so much travel and photography I can do during a trip. One final location, and I was done.

Beach on the road to Myrland. I wish I was here earlier.

As another patch of snow started coming down, I snapped the final image of the trip. The location was great, the rest wasn't.

The drive home was long. Apart from some GoPro time lapse, I don't have any footage from either day. Nothing really happened either; the weather was good, the roads were excellent (especially the Swedish ones), and I just kept driving. In hindsight, I'd probably do the same trip in three days next time, especially the return drive. It took me days to recover from the driving, and weeks to recover from the trip itself.

Home, at last. 5223 kilometers, by far the longest trip I've ever done by car.

So, was it worth it?

For once, I don't know. I really don't want to complain, but there is one really big issue with the trip after I've been home for a few months. I'm completely fed up with landscape photography, and photography in general. It's now been three months since I came back, and I've taken my camera out of the bag once during that time. I think it was too much. The utter, absolute, amazing crazy place I spent many days in spoiled me really, really badly. I look out my window at home, and I don't see a single mountain. There's no fjords, no solitude, no deserted beaches, and no eagles anywhere.

It's taken me this long to process all my images, and I still have over 200 GB of time lapse footage left; I have no idea when I'll have the energy to finish that. I'm sure I will get around to it eventually, but it still feels I need a break. My summer vacations are coming up in a month or so, I will probably try something then; I've been thinking about some intimate woodland landscapes this time around. Maybe that'll work out, maybe it wont. Time will tell.

I'm sure I will go back to Lofoten. I want to see how it looks without snow and ice. It feels like I barely scratched the surface of what you can see and experience in the region, and now that I've been there, I know where to head next and what regions to concentrate on. But the return trip will have to wait. For now, I have the images, and more importantly, the memories to remind me of that superlative, magical place. They remind me of how incredibly lucky I am to be able to visit such a paradise.