Late in April, I looked out the window at around 6:00am and saw high clouds breaking. I knew this could be a productive, colorful sunrise, so I grabbed my coffee and camera gear and headed out. On this particular morning, I didn’t even have a location in mind. I just drove East, looking for potential compositions along the highway.
The sun came up fast, and soon I became a bit frantic as the clouds were turning vibrant colors and I still hadn’t found a location. I pulled off the road to the first farm with a pond where I could set up facing into the sunrise. I started shooting and immediately felt like I was wasting great light with the location. The pond was in deep shadow from the surrounding trees, so I had no drama or contrast. Plus it was flat-city with no interest in the composition. So I packed up and got back in the truck.
Amazing sky, but I was in the WRONG location!
I decided to head about another mile down the road to Robinson Ranch to see if I could find something. At the time, I didn’t yet have permission to cross the fence onto the Robinson pastures, but my wife was friends with the Grandson of the land owner. So on the strength of my anticipated ability to talk my way out of trouble, I crossed their cattle guard and into the sea of yellow flowers like a rogue coyote on the prowl.
As I told my students at DBU (with *light* controversy) sometimes it’s best to beg for forgiveness rather than ask for permission. This light couldn’t wait for formalities, and the chances of anyone else being awake at this hour were slim—
When the light’s good, make a run for it!
The sun was really coming up now. Golden light bathed the field. By the time I got my tripod level and the camera turned on, I was in the peak moment of golden glory, so I didn’t have time to second guess. I started shooting bracketed exposures for a panorama. The way the light back-lit the flowers was incredible. I was blown away by the way the low sunlight played over the little clumps of flowers and backlit the yellow petals. I couldn’t even grasp the abundance of them, as far as I could see. Each one flawless, tender and vibrant. I was asking God in my mind, “Why so many! And how?”
I knew I surely couldn’t even capture the drama and the captivating light I saw while standing there.
After snagging that first panorama, the light was still working, so I scrambled on around the pond and attempted to capture another amazing panorama. It was decent, but in my opinion it wasn’t as good as the first one. What do you think? Do you happen to prefer the first one or the one I got about 5 minutes later here?
Oh and it’s a great idea not to park in the middle of your shot too.
The challenge with shooting multi-frame panoramas is visualizing your final composition. The way our eyes see the world is a bit different than how a camera interprets it—especially with a wide angle lens. A tip here that I’m using more often is taking out my iPhone and shooting a quick panorama of my scene, to help me preview or visualize how the scene may come together once I use my “Big Camera.” I urge you to do the same. It’s an amazing way to save time and test out your position and see a glimpse of your final composition without even having to level up a tripod.
A verse I found seemed fitting for this experience:
2 Samuel 23:4 NASB
‘Is as the light of the morning when the sun rises, A morning without clouds, When the tender grass springs out of the earth, Through sunshine after rain.'