Welcome to the landscape photography blog by Chuck Derus. Thanks for looking and for your comments!
Beauty and Photography
We’re surrounded by beauty. But sometimes, the camera fails to capture that arresting scene. Our eyes see the world differently than the camera.
For example, walking through a forest is an alluring experience. Tree trunks, branches, and leaves dance in the light, combining to form lovely images that change with every step.
But what happens when you stop walking and take a picture of the forest? Oftentimes, the photograph is disappointing. The grandeur has been reduced to a chaotic, confusing, jumble of elements by the camera.
I once spent two days in the Hoh Rainforest in Washington State. The sights were mesmerizing. But I emerged with only one good photograph. The hundreds of others appeared to be a feeble attempt to document an explosion in a green spaghetti factory!
Other times, beauty is inescapable, even to the camera. For example, you can stand anywhere on the breathtaking Zabriskie Point Overlook in Death Valley National Park and take the same pleasing image of Manly Beacon.
What About Ugly?
You might think that “ugly” subjects never make arresting photographs. For example, who gets excited at the prospect of images of mud?
Yet images of mud can be delightful.
Mud cracks in Death Valley National Park
The Shot
Two years ago, I spent several days on Florida beaches photographing the simple beauty of waves. But one evening, the wind was calm, and no good waves appeared.
I could have given up and left for dinner. But I decided to seek out an alternative subject instead.
An assemblage of rusty steel H-beams and broken concrete block was just down the beach. Most people would classify it as junk and want it removed. Could ugly be transformed by the camera?
It had potential. First, I looked for an angle to capture the diagonals. Next, I carefully positioned the camera to avoid any distracting overlapping of the beams. Finally, I used a long shutter speed to simplify and smooth out the water, further reducing distractions.
The sunset light warmed up parts of the rusty orange beams, contrasting nicely with the blues of the sky and ocean. Everything just seemed to come together beautifully in this satisfying image.
Thanks for looking,
Chuck Derus
The Haldi Cones
The Cones fuse beauty and grandeur to create a breathtaking amalgam. Granite peaks soar majestically to the heavens, adorned with ragged ridges, sharp spires, and towering cliffs. Most of these peaks have never been climbed because of the rugged terrain, technical difficulties, and limited access.
The Cones are situated near Haldi village in the Ghanche district of Gilgit Baltistan in Pakistan. The landscape surrounding Haldi village is mesmerizing, Verdant valleys, glistening streams, and snow-capped peaks create an idyllic setting.
Along with the captivating Cones, the area offers other attractions. The Saling Valley, Yochung Valley, Machulu Valley, and Haldi Village itself are exceptional sightseeing locations. However, the Machulu Village viewpoint truly shines among these options.
The Haldi Cones from Machulu Village
Working the Area
As usual, we arrived early on the morning of November 4 and scouted for locations along the stream running through Haldi village. The villagers were curious and several of them struck up conversations with our group of photographers.
We kept crisscrossing a stream evaluating compositions leading to the Cones. In some spots, it was tricky crossing the rocky stream. Only a single footbridge graced the stream. And in Pakistan, bridges are shared by people, vehicles, and livestock.
This goat thought the better of it and turned around when he spotted friend and fellow photographer Jon Christofersen starting to cross.
The Shot
After finding a composition, we waited for the light. If the sun was too low, the mountain would be unappealing. And if it was too high, numerous harsh shadows on the mountain and in the valley would be chaotic and distracting.
To play it safe, we took photographs every five minutes or so for about a half hour. After that, it was back to town for breakfast and a warm cup of coffee.
I’ll be in the field for the next two weeks, so the next Friday Photo will be on April 19.
Thanks for looking,
Chuck Derus
Mountains
Picturesque is the word to describe northern Pakistan. And the Saling Valley is filled with vivid images.
Nestled in the Ghanche District of Khaplu in Gilgit-Baltistan, the Valley is a destination waiting to be discovered. It also serves as a gateway to the enchanting Hushe Valley.
The markhor goat is the national animal of Pakistan and is abundantly present in the Valley. The word mārkhor (مارخور), meaning "snake-eater," comes from both Pashto and classical Persian languages. It stems from the snake-like form of the male markhor's horns, possibly leading ancient peoples to associate them with snakes.
From science.org
Most people in the Valley grow wheat, potatoes, tomatoes, and other vegetables. Small herds of livestock add milk and meat to the diet. We found everyone to be hospitable and friendly.
The Shot
We awoke well before dawn in nearby Khaplu on November 3 and then drove east. After a short while, we turned north on a connecting road to the town of Saling. Before we reached town, we stopped, parked, and hiked about a mile east looking for a foreground to complement the distant mountains.
The pre-dawn light beautifully embraced the distant peaks. We had colorful bushes in the foreground and a pair of trees created a complimentary frame-within-a-frame for our composition. Once the sun came up, harsh shadow lines created so many distracting shadows that we put away our cameras.
After that, it was a short hike back to our vehicles. Luckily, breakfast and a hot cup of coffee was not far away in Khaplu.
Thanks for looking,
Chuck Derus
Greener Than Green River Soda!
Greener Than Green River Soda!
Is it a celebration of Irish heritage or an excuse to party? It’s probably both. Parties, bar crawls, and parades are held worldwide celebrating St. Patrick’s Day.
The history of St. Patrick’s Day in Chicago dates back more than 175 years. Now a longstanding tradition, Chicago’s Irish parade was first held in 1843 becoming an official city event in the 1950s. Along with the downtown festivities, Chicago’s proud Irish heritage is also on full display in multiple neighborhoods.
Since 1962, Chicago has dyed the east branch of the Chicago River neon green in a now iconic annual celebration. Thousands of people line the Riverwalk and crowd Chicago’s bridges to glimpse the phenomenon. It’s typically held at 10 a.m. the Saturday before St. Patrick’s Day and is followed by the downtown parade.
Crews from the Chicago Plumbers Union Local 130 create a spellbinding spectacle spreading the dye from boats in honor of St. Patrick’s Day. The best views of the newly colored river are from Upper Wacker Drive between Columbus and Fairbanks.
iPhone shot from the Michigan Avenue bridge.
The event started thanks to serendipity. In 1961 Stephen Bailey, business manager of the Chicago Plumbers Local 130, was approached by a plumber.
His normally white coveralls were heavily stained (or dyed) the perfect shade of Irish green. When Bailey asked how his coveralls got this way, he learned that the dye used to detect leaks into the river colored the fabric that special color.
That's when Mr. Bailey bellowed, “Call the mayor…we will dye the Chicago River green!” That first 1962 river dyeing turned the waters green for nearly a month. Currently, the color only lasts for a few hours. The union’s environmentally friendly dye formula remains a closely held secret.
The Shot
I had never witnessed the event, so fellow photographer Jon Christofersen and I headed downtown last Saturday. In retrospect, we should have left earlier as the traffic and crowds made for slow going.
After trying in vain to find a place to launch our drones in the Columbus/Fairbanks area, we hiked west to Wolf Point at the convergence of the north, south, and east branches of the Chicago River. It was easy to launch drones from there, but signal interference from the buildings limited our range.
I enjoyed this view the most. After the drone landed, we made our way back to our parked car. I should have brought my regular camera as the St. Patrick’s Day revelers were as colorful as the river!
Thanks for looking,
Chuck Derus
The Magic of Ice
From the ordinary to wild and downright wacky. The variety of ice we encounter in nature depends on the conditions that created it.
Two forms of ice, hoar frost, and rime ice, excite photographers the most because of their photogenic nature.
Hoar Frost
We’re all familiar with dew. When supersaturated moist air near the surface of the ground is cooled to its dew point, tiny droplets of water condense on surfaces.
Hoar frost is formed by a similar process. But with hoar frost, the supersaturated moisture in the air skips the liquid droplet stage and goes straight to ice when temperatures are below freezing. Hoar frost also needs calm air that allows those complex lacy deposits of crystals to form.
The name derives from the old English word “hoary,” meaning getting on in age. Many trees, especially evergreens, take on a "hair-like" appearance resembling a white, feathery beard. These deposits are quite fragile.
An example of hoar frost crystals on the icy Dietrich River in Alaska.
Rime Ice
Rime ice can also coat nature in magical ways. When supercooled (below 32°F) fog droplets instantly freeze and attach to exposed surfaces below 32°F, you get rime ice.
Soft rime ice forms under calm wind conditions. The fog usually freezes to the windward side of solid objects, particularly tree branches and wires. It is similar in appearance to hoar frost with narrow white icy needles and scales. Soft rime is quite fragile.
Hard rime ice is denser and more difficult to remove. It’s often seen on trees atop mountains and ridges in winter, when low-hanging clouds cause freezing fog. The fog freezes to the windward side of tree branches, buildings, or any other solid objects, usually with high wind velocities and air temperatures between 28 and 18 °F.
The Shot
We arose on the morning of February 18 and drove the Dalton Highway to an area near Livengood, Alaska looking for a group of hard rime ice-encased trees. We arrived too early and waited in the van where it was warm.
The two trucks that went by both stopped to check on us as we might have been a disabled vehicle. It was a good feeling to know that people cared about our welfare in that remote stretch of Alaska.
As dawn approached, we wandered through the knee-deep snow looking for compositions. This composition was framed on top by a bowed-over tree and an upright tree. Inside the frame were three rime-encased trees and clouds to the east.
Normally, sunrise shooting is a frantic race against time. You typically have mere minutes to capture the warm colors of dawn. But near the Arctic Circle, we had close to an hour of good light! After two hours of photography, we headed back to the van for the long drive south to Sutton, Alaska.
Thanks for looking,
Chuck Derus