I took a friend of mine on his first Urban Exploration experience on my birthday. We went to an old factory that has seen far better days. His apprehension towards shooting an unfamiliar subject turned to unbridled enthusiasm once we got inside the old building. While walking down a long open room, this little tree caught my eye. It was in the middle of a pile of snow that entered through a large hole in the roof. The isolated spot of lightness between the dark foreground and background made it stand out and even glow a little. I shot with my 105mm f/2.8 to keep the depth as shallow as possible.
While on a walk with my wife, I caught a little pool down over the bank of the Montour Trail. A quick scan revealed a way to get down to view it from the opposite side. Since the pool was at the bottom of a little hill, the trees at the top reflected really well in the murky waters. I really liked how the barkless tree dips in and out of the water.
I pride myself on finding new angles to capture the city of Pittsburgh. I spend way too many hours on Google Earth and my Photographer’s Ephemris looking for spots that I haven’t been to, places that I might be able to get to, and where the light might be when I get there. Pittsburgh has so many wonderful little neighborhoods snuggling right up against the city separated by a few interestingly designed roads. This view from Troy Hill compresses a neighborhood, some of those roads, and the city into one frame. I chose an extremely long exposure to blur the clouds as well as the road’s travelers. I’m most pleased with the layered quality of this image. When you shoot with a telephoto lens, you can compress foreground elements into background and make them appear closer to one another. The houses in the foreground are 1/4 mile away, the PPG building is about 1 1/2 miles away, and the church visible on Mt. Washington sits at a distance of 2 miles. The “base layer” of the clouds has Mt. Washington in front, then the PPG, Fifth Ave. Place and other downtown buildings on top, and then the sister bridges over the Allegheny. Next are the houses on River Ave. In front of those are the roadways. 576 and all of its on and off ramps with a glimpse of E. Ohio St closest. Finally there are the houses at the base of Troy Hill. All of this neatly packaged into one frame.
My little calico darling, Cecelia, loves to come into my office and do figure eights around my legs as I work. It becomes irritating after 10 or so minutes of her head buttting my right leg as her tail brushes my left, then vice versa until I can’t take it anymore and pick her up. Sometimes she just jumps onto my desk. This is a no no. Her “punishment” this day was a photo shoot. Her dissatisfaction oozes from this image. She might stay out of my office for a few days. (not likely)
February 16 started wet. It poured all night long. Fortunately (as some would say) it wasn’t cold enough to show. I wanted to show what a night of rain could do to places that usually only handled a little water. I went out to Mingo Creek Park in search of a waterfall. I visited a few of the likely spots, but they were absolutely overrun. Most of the park was flooded. I remembered a nice little waterfall still technically inside of the park that was usually a trickle. Today it raged with water. It was so loud at this spot that I couldn’t hear my shutter. I was surprised that so many trees had fallen in front of the falls, but it made for a good breakup of the scene and provided stationary elements that contrasted the long exposure softness of the composition. I was hesitant to leave this one in color, but something about the pastel softness of the sky and the muddiness of the water worked for my eye.
Sometimes taking a walk is enough to stimulate creativity. I had been sitting inside editing for most of the morning and just needed to get outside. It was cold, slightly rainy, slightly snowy, and overall dreary. I thought that the Montour Trail might cheer me up. I parked at a new spot, grabbed my gear, and headed off towards a bridge and tunnel. I ran into a few brave souls out for exercise or the same “head clearing” that I was after. After about a mile, it started to fog up. from around the bend, this bridge came into view and I immediately thought to shoot it with my telephoto from far away and compress the scene. I really liked that shot, but wanted to get closer. I switched to the medium zoom, composed, and snapped a few, but wanted to get even closer. I traded lenses for the ultrawide and got really low for this final composition. I was so engrossed in my shot that I didn’t notice a jogger coming up behind me and running right past as the shutter closed. I apologized for blocking the path and also for being so startled. She seemed to laugh as she went on about her jog. While processing this image, I went back and forth on the color version and the black & white. I ultimately went with the black and white to accentuate the contrast between the straight lines of the bridge and the curves of the trees.
Something a little different for Valentine’s Day. While shooting this, I kept moving closer and closer to capture the right framing. It still amazes me how close I can get with my macro lens. Deeper and deeper into the spiral of the rose!
There exists a wonderful collection of waterfalls in one small area of Southwestern Pennsylvania. The area is knows as McConnells Mill State Park. It is over 2500 acres of beautiful land with streams cascading down rocky slopes and a creek that once powered a grist mill. I went out in search of icy streams and perhaps a frozen over waterfall. I didn’t get exactly what I was after, but it ended way better than the last time I came to McConnells Mill for an icy waterfall.
One thing I’ve learned in my years of shooting is that patience is helpful in getting a great shot. One of the qualities that I most admired about Ansel Adams is that he waited for the right moment and the right light for his images, sometimes visiting the same spot several times for the perfect lighting. This particular morning promised a great sunrise. One advantage that technology has provided us is the easily accessible data on where the sun will rise on any given day. This day I chose to shoot from the West End bridge and capture the sunrise as it moved between a few of Pittsburgh’s taller buildings and reflected on the rivers.
It was about 12°F but the but the air was still. I shot for about 30 minutes and got some really nice color in the sky before the sun poked above the horizon. Then all of the color disappeared. There was a line of clouds at the horizon, then a sliver of open sky, then solid clouds above that. I decided to wait for the sun to rise above the lowest layer of clouds and when I did, the color came back in full force. I moved slightly to use a building to block the bright orange ball and the shadow that it cast was amazing. The water’s surface, heated by the sun, began to steam and everything fell into place. The contrast between light and dark was intense, but I managed to get an acceptable exposure that had detail in the shadows of the buildings without having highlights that were too bright.
While driving to a location I had in mind for a shot, I caught the sun shining through the trees and reflecting off of a partially frozen stream. Sure, I was in my nice coat, but sometimes (most times) you’ve got to get the shot. Yeah, I still went to the other spot, but this was the winner for the day.
