One of the things I enjoy about photographing in general, thinking about photography, and looking at and reading about other photographers’ images is that it enriches my daily life in many different ways.  Yesterday morning was a perfect example.

Consistent with an adventure that had not quite gone according to plan (“Plan, what plan?  We ain’t got no stinking plan!”), we wound up getting up late the following morning.  Whether it was because we forgot to set our alarms, or we didn’t realize how well the fragrance of juniper would help us sleep, or we mistakenly thought the thunk of snow clumps falling from the trees would wake us up early (“Snow?  What snow?”), we inadvertently slept in.  That is, of course, if you consider 5:30 to be sleeping in as we do when we’re out photographing.

A couple of weekends ago Ann and I had our first adventure of 2018.  The trip was as odd as the week leading up to it.

Ann and I were itching to get out and do some photography, and not just a short day trip.  The question was where?  In the winter time, that question is often answered by the weather, and in this instance, the weather forecast kept changing on us during the week leading up to the trip.  At one point the entire state was forecast with rain, snow, rain and snow, or rain/sleet/snow.  It wasn’t looking good.  We finally decided that regardless of the weather, we were going out and would have to make a call on the day we leave.

Last weekend Ann and I had quite the worthwhile adventure.  It was so good, in fact, that it’s going to take a bit to write up because it’s chock full of interesting stories and images.  So to bide some time, I decided to do a shooting the shooter posting from our trip.  And for once, I thought to pull out my iPhone to photograph Ann making images!

I’m pretty sure I’ve mentioned this before on the blog, but I’ve often said that any day out photographing is a great day, even if you don’t come home with any photographs.  By that standard, our trip this past Sunday to Brice Creek was a great day. 

This edition of shooting the shooter is going to be a bit different because there are multiple pairs (in one case, more than a pair) of images.  Unfortunately, they’re all of me doing the shooting (I do have to get better at taking photos of Ann making photographs - but in my defense, one points a camera at Ann at the risk of one’s well-being, so . . . I guess that’s no excuse, my life insurance covers murder by wife, … I think.). 

What better way to start out the new year than by closing out the last?

Ann and I decided we wanted to spend this Christmas by ourselves doing what we so love doing, photographing.  After following the seemingly constantly changing weather forecast for several weeks, it looked like the best destination would be the coast, so we decided to head down to Bandon.  Bullards Beach state park’s campground was open and we doubted that it would be full.  We were right. 

It’s pretty obvious that I don’t make a lot of photographs of people.  Not that I have anything against it, but I don’t have much of an opportunity to photograph people, nor much of an inclination to try.  That would probably change if I was immersing myself in a culture where they didn’t immediately distrust someone with a camera like Liberians generally did, but that’s not likely to happen.  So I stick to the landscapes I so enjoy.

There are times when one (read, “I”) goes out photographing, arrives at a location, and an image just screams out to be made.  The location, weather, play of light and time of day of those moments come together and it seems like all one has to do is point the camera, make sure the image is properly focused, that the exposure is correct, and that your batteries are charged.  Once you press the shutter, you know you have an incredible image.  

For whatever reason, neither Ann nor I slept particularly well that night.  Still, we managed to get up when the alarm went off at 4 am.  Face it, it wasn’t anything a pot of fresh coffee wouldn’t fix.  So we made breakfast, packed up and drove the mile or so down the road to park at the closed logging road for the walk into our meadow destination.