Finding My Photographic Niche with the Help of a Winter Excursion

We all have a photographic niche that is unique to us, an area where we can excel above all others. Yes, even you. You may not yet have the technical skills or equipment to exploit that niche, but the things that make you uniquely "you" mean that we all have an inherent niche in which we're uniquely qualified to excel photographically. What this niche is depends on our experience, our knowledge, but most importantly on our passions. It's very difficult to take a good photo of something without being passionate about it. I'm a scientist and work in a very fact/evidence-based industry; if it can't be measured then it doesn't exist, but I've noticed that in my photography, different rules apply. It's not just about getting the optimal settings and composition: If I'm shooting something that I feel strongly about  or have a connection to, and if I can transport those feelings and connection through the camera lens to the sensor, then 9 times out of 10 I'm taking a good photo. 

Ice Crystals on Snow || Olympus 86 mm (crop), f/8, 1/640, ISO 200 

So what part of ourselves can we tap into to find our niche? What do you know about your local area, what is your experience of those places? What is it about them that moves you? I've always been someone who struggles with a sense of my own worth and ability in almost all aspects of life - humility was more important than self-esteem growing up. If I say that I consider myself to be a good photographer, it's because I've slowly come to accept the feedback that I've received over the years - it's something I've been told repeatedly. There are also photos I've taken over the years that I am proud of. Accepting that I'm a good photographer (I still find it difficult to even type that) was one thing. Understanding my niche and accepting that there's a corner of photography where I might be uniquely equipped to share my vision with the world has (is) taken even longer, but I'm slowly beginning to feel comfortable in my skin and recognise that I have a contribution to make as a photographer or even as an instructor. I may never be a Nigel Danson or a Gavin Hardcastle, but I am Mike Page. I am an experienced mountaineer (but no Heinz Zak) with a comprehensive knowledge of the north-eastern Alps (and a few areas in between). I can recognise a good image out in the field and know which conditions would be good to return - my experience. I can take a decent astro-photograph, but I'm no Stefan Liebermann, I'm a competent photo editor, but I'm no Albert Dros. I'm passionate about being outdoors and I can write. That's my niche, or at least part of it. What's your unique set of talents and how do they relate to your photography?

The Mighty Guffert || Olympus 44 mm, f/5.6, 1/2000, ISO 1600 (don't ask!)

One of our favourite winter outdoor activities is cross-country skiing, a sport that has taken us all over the eastern Alps as well as to the hills of Norway. And so we found ourselves getting up in the dark yesterday morning to join our dear friends W&C to revisit the Guffert Loipe between Achenkirch and Steinberg am Rofan. It was a chilly -5°C as we were putting our skis on in the small car park whilst looking for the start of the trail. Although there are a lot of people who take part in this sport, not many of them can be bothered to lug a big camera around with them and not many photographers get out on cross-country skis to access these areas in winter - again, a part of my niche. There wasn't much snow left on the trees, but there was a decent frost on the surface of the snow and on many of the trees, especially near streams and in areas that the sun wasn't reaching. 

Winter Beech || Olympus 86 mm, f/5.6, 1/40, ISO 200

Hoar-frost is a very ephemeral phenomenon; unless it's really cold, once the light's on the crystals, you only have a few minutes to get the image before the sun's warmth melts the ice. A lot of the frost that we'd seen in the morning simply wasn't there any more when we came back in the afternoon, even though the temperature never climbed over the freezing point. The crystals on the wire fence are so reminiscent of tinsel that it's laughable, especially when we remember that the basis is actually the other way round.

Hoary Tree || Olympus 100 mm (crop), f/5.6, 1/8000, ISO 1600 (again, don't ask!)

Nature's Tinsel || Olympus 70 mm, f/16, 1/250, ISO 200

Needles on Needles || Olympus 86 mm, f/11, 1/250, ISO 200

Skiing past a beautiful wooden chalet our attention was grabbed by the tits and finches flitting in and out of a tree above a bird feeder. Fortunately the birds were accustomed enough to human presence that they allowed us to take a couple of photos, including this one of a crested tit, posing thoughtfully on the centre of the feeder. It's a very serendipitous image, but like I always say, a good photographer makes their own luck. Being out to capture the image and being in a position to monopolise on an opportunity when it presents itself helped me to capture this gorgeous little bird in exactly the right location.

Crested Tit || Olympus 100 mm (crop), f/8, 1/160, ISO 200

In some places, the ice crystals had really built up, both on the surface of the snow and on branches, giving rise to some really bizarre structures. I had my 60 mm macro lens in the bag, but found that I didn't need it to capture the level of detail I wanted to show. Maybe if I had been out on my own I would have taken the time to swap out the lenses, but I didn't want to keep my three companions waiting too long given the late hour. The day wasn't getting warmer any more. The M. Zuiko f/4 12-100 has a minimal focus distance of an incredible 15 cm, making it relatively simple to get up close and personal with the ice anyway.

Ice Crystals I || Olympus 80 mm, f/16, 1/40, ISO 200

Ice Crystals II || Olympus 35 mm, f/8, 1/640, ISO 200

Ice Crystals III || Olympus 100 mm, f/8, 1/250, ISO 200

I'd expected the crystals to be more hexagonal, these were anything but, forming needles on the surfaces that they'd grown on. In terms of photo tips, shoot against the light where you can; light shining through the crystals - or leaves - will really show off the structures from within. If I'd shot with the light behind me, very little of this detail would be apparent.

Ice Crystals IV || Olympus 86 mm, f/14, 1/60, ISO 200

Ice Crystals V || Olympus 86 mm, f/14, 1/60, ISO 200

Ice Crystals VI || Olympus 100 mm, f/11, 1/200, ISO 200

Returning to the car we descended through this last part of the forest. The rest of the route had been well tracked, but the connecting Loipe to the car park was in need of preparation. A fitting last image of the day. 

Last Metres of Track || Olympus 24 m, f/8, 1/80, ISO 200

Well, almost the last image. The nearly full moon rising behind the log pile after we got back down was too much of a temptation despite the rapidly falling temperature. I would have preferred taking this with my super-zoom, but that's 1.5 kg too many for an outing like this.

Moon Stack || Olympus 100 mm, f/8, 1/80, ISO 200

So what's your niche? What's your unique set of knowledge, experience and passion that you're excited to share with the world? I'm genuinely interested to hear what it is - an even more interested to see the results!

Revisiting Old Haunts - A Winter Photography Guide to Füssen and Surroundings

I think we probably all have our favourite local places for photography. We're lucky where we are with my local little woodland and Lake Ammersee only 10 min away by car. One of my other go-to places for a day-long photo trip is Füssen, home to the (in)famous Castle Neuschwanstein. I've only been to the castle once, and that was before I was living in Germany, and I have avoided the area like the plague for a number of years, but as I've gotten back into photography, I've rediscovered the area and have gone back countless times, either to hike or just to blow away the cobwebs with camera in hand.

A Wintery Neuschwanstein || Olympus 34 mm, f/7.1, 1/80 s, ISO 200

I was at a bit of a loose end in the week after New Years, and one of the other photographers in the Munich Expat Photo Group reached out to me to see whether I wanted to join him for a day's shooting. We'd been trying to get together for quite a while and this seemed like a great opportunity to hit the trail, especially with the fresh snow and icy temperatures forecast. I think autumn and winter are my favourite times of year for shooting here, with the mixed forest providing some great colours and winter providing, well, none. 

Wintery Scenes || Olympus 35 mm, f/6.3, 1/15 s, ISO 200

We'd chosen our day well; it had snowed the day before, it was still cold and there was little wind to speak of, so there was a good chance of shooting with the snow still on the trees. Of course it's possible to shoot in winter without the snow on the trees, but I always find it to be too contrasty, unless it's something simple like a silhouetted tree against a beautiful sky. So fresh snow was looking good to (re-)capture some old favourites and take some new ones that have been on the list.

All of the photos shot here are within a 30 min walk from the respective car parks and should be well within the reach of most people. I would strongly recommend sturdy footwear, or even boots if you venture into the water as suggested below for some of the waterfall shots. 

Alongside your camera, a tripod, polarising filter and even neutral density filter help, as well as spare batteries if your camera is susceptible to the cold.

St. Coloman Church

One of the images that has been on my list for a while is the church of St. Coloman on the flat valley floor below the castles. The snow simplifies this image beautifully, as does the hoar frost on the surrounding trees. This image was also a very interesting object lesson in the benefits of the Olympus hand-held high-res (HHHR) mode. The sky was very tricky here - quite bright even compared to the snowy foreground. The single-shot didn't leave much detail left in the sky. Enter Olympus HHHR. This puts the camera into overdrive, it shoots multiple (16) 20 MP images and assembles them together as a 50 MP RAW file in camera (there is also a tripod high-res mode which boosts the size to 80 MP with fewer shots). The process is relatively slow and no good for moving objects (think leaves or grass in the wind), but for scenes like this it works nicely. The trees here had obviously lost most of their snow already, but they'd picked up a bit of frost overnight (subtly enhanced in post-processing), rescuing the photo.

St. Coloman, Hohenschwangau || Olympus 41 mm, f/6.3, 1/100 s, ISO 200 

I don't often include the beta images here, but in this instance I will. Below is the original photo before editing (compare the sky) as well as a non-HHHR image where I've attempted to tone down the sky in ON1 Photo Raw and just got a muddy blur.

HHHR Unedited

Non-HHHR, Edited

This is definitely a first-thing-in-the-morning shot. Sadly, our lazy asses had missed the first colour of sunrise, but I'm still very happy with this photo, especially as there are no other vehicles in sight; often there are cars parked off to the left of the church. This morning there were no such obstructions.

Castle Neuschwanstein

After parking at the Tegelberg car park, we first headed up the trail to the Rohrkopfhütte. There are two vantage points for taking good photos of Neuschwanstein; the Marienbrücke above the castle (presently closed, due to re-open in autumn 2022) and the path up to the aforementioned hut. Reaching the vantage point for this photo entails a 30 min hike along well-trodden gravel paths; you don't need to do the full 90 min trek to the hut (though it's culinarily worth it, the hut has a good selection of food). If you're not going to go the extra mile, once you've seen this scene twice on successive switchbacks, that's it; there are no further shots of the castle to be had.

Greetings from König Ludwig || Olympus 80 mm, f/6.3, 1/100 s, ISO 200

Because you're looking westwards, it's normally best to shoot this scene early-ish in the morning with the rising sunlight on the face of the castle emphasising the red bricks, Whether you shoot wide or telephoto is up to you, but do be aware that you may encounter difficulties selling shots of the castle itself - the Bavarian Palace Administration is fairly strict about permission for commercial photos. 

There are some nice images to be had here of the larger picture - Füssen itself or even just a catch of some valley detail. With my m43 12-200 mm lens (24-200 mm in full-frame terms), I didn't need to change lens all day and can take the larger vista or pick out details like these lines in the landscape very nicely.

Füssen from the trail up to the Rohrkopfhütte || Olympus 29 mm, f/8, 1/125 s, ISO 200

Winter Lines || Olympus 100 mm, f/8, 1/125 s, ISO 200

Returning to the valley we came across this micro-scene underneath one of the snow canons in action. I love discovering little motifs like this and get more of a kick out of an original shot than the big well-known scenes; it's the reward of originality. This may even be one of my favourite images of the day.

Winter Gems || Olympus 47 mm, f/11, 1/5 s, ISO 200

Working the composition; Photo Mike Didrich

The Pöllat Gorge

Descending back to the Tegelberg car park, we took a left past the Reith Alm towards the bottom of the Pöllat gorge - always worth the detour. I swear that the gypsum mill at the bottom of the gorge looks more and more dilapidated every time I pass by. We didn't stop this time but bypassed the provisional barrier at the entrance to the gorge (as everyone else does) to get to the mill race. The gorge itself is closed again at the moment as it is extremely prone to rockfalls, but the best photos (IMHO) are to be found at the bottom of the gorge, with my favourite golden rock and the green pool below. I don't know what it is about the rocks in the eastern Allgäu mountains, but the water here is almost emerald. It seems to react with the rock as well leading to quite yellow colours, a really pleasing combination.

The Mill Race || Olympus 34 mm, f/5.6, 1/15 s, ISO 200

One of my favourite shots here is to the left of the mill race; a pool below a rock spout. Admittedly I've taken a little liberty with the colours here, but more a nudge than a shove, if you know what I mean.

Golden Trail || Olympus 61 mm, f/16, 4  s, ISO 200

There's one winter scene at the bottom of the mill race that has always eluded me; I've shot it several times, but it's never worked for me. I've been trying to capture it using Joshua Cripp's principle of identifying the element of a scene that first catches your attention and emphasising that in the photo using all the tricks of the trade - making the image a caricature of that aspect of the scene. The iced-up fallen branch is a real attention grabber and I want to make it part of the image. My companion for the day used another principle - eliminate all distractions, cropping out the branch and seemed to get an altogether more pleasing image (this is my version of that). Neither of them are going to end up in my personal gallery though.

Too Many Elements || Olympus 66 mm, f/18, 1 s, ISO 200

Simplifying the Scene || Olympus 100 mm, f/16, 15 s, ISO 200 

Icy Candelabra || Olympus 100 mm, f/16, 1/2 s, ISO 200

The Lech Falls

Mike (the other Mike) had indicated that he wanted to check out the Lech Falls whilst we were on site. It's not a subject that I'd normally shoot, but a while back I'd seen a cool shot of the falls with a cute wooden cabin above them. The falls are an artificial structure (probably why I don't relate to them very well), regulating the water flow through the narrow gorge just before Füssen. Don't forget to look down as you cross the bridge!

Into the Gorge || Olympus 12 mm, f/11, 1/15 s, ISO 200

We were surprised when we arrived to see a heavy flow of water coming over the steps, in fact there was so much that you could barely see the steps at all. Finding the angle to catch the falls and the hut proved almost impossible. I'll post the image that I managed to get here more for information than anything else. If anyone else can do better, I'd be very interested to learn where you shot it from (providing it wasn't a drone shot).

Lechfall || Olympus 12 mm, f/16, 1/2 s, ISO 200

The elusive cabin shot || Olympus 23 mm, f/16, 1/5 s, ISO 200

Stuiben Falls

The Stuiben Falls just outside Reutte (20 min away from Füssen by car) are one of my absolute favourite locations for a number of reasons; not too many people know about them, they're a bugger to find the first time you're there, but once you find out where they are, they're super accessible - just a 5 min walk from the car park over the bridge at the end of the valley. Lastly, the colours are superb, though I definitely need to get back here in deep winter with tons of snow and a bit more ice. To get the best out of these falls, you'll need a tripod and either a remote control / cable release or an on-board timer to enable you to take slow exposures, allowing you to capture the misty water flow. A special dark filter (GND) can help here as well. Depending on the effect you are after, I generally find a shutter speed of 1/5, 1/2, 1, 2 or 15 seconds gives satisfying results.

Looking down on the first section of the falls || Olympus 12 mm, f/16, 1 s, ISO 100

To get to the falls, walk behind the transformer field beyond the car park (over the bridge), cross the footbridge and you're there. The falls themselves break down into three sections in terms of photo opportunities; the first one is just over the footbridge. You can either drop down into the riverbed  and stone-hop to a suitable location (watch out for fluctuations in the water flow, especially if there's a storm over the Plansee) or shoot it from one of the platforms along the path. When shooting from the platforms, do watch out for any vibrations if you're using a tripod for long exposures. The grounding isn't as solid as it looks and if other people are walking nearby, you'll probably have to wait for them to pass before getting a crisp-sharp image.

Lower Falls Detail || Olympus 16 mm, f/11, 1 s, ISO 100

Section two is best shot from the narrow sloping bridge above the first falls looking east. Again, you'll need to coordinate with other people, whether fellow photographers or hikers. The bridge really is quite narrow and setting up tripods is not straightforward. A Gorilla Pod that you can attach to the handrail might even be a better option.

The Middle Falls || Olympus 21 mm, f/16, 1 s, ISO 100

Middle Falls Detail || Olympus 66 mm, f/16, 2 s, ISO 100

To get to the third section worth shooting, carry on up the trail for a couple of minutes until it levels off and you can drop  down to the stream. You'll then need to cross the stream (see caveat above) to look into a mini horseshoe falls. These work either as a detail shot or as a smaller element of the larger scene. Whichever it is though, make sure you have a polarising filter with you to cut out the surface glare.

Upper Falls - Detail || Olympus 31 mm, f/11, 10 s, ISO 100

Upper Falls - In Situ || Olympus 29 mm, f/9, 5 s, ISO 100

Other Locations

Under other conditions, it's often worth a trip to the Marienbrücke for a classic shot of Neuschwanstein with the Forggensee in the background.

Plan A for the day had been to shoot sunset over the water or ice at Hopfensee, a charming location, if a little overrun with Influenzas these days for my tastes. The clouds had already come in though, so we decided to cut our losses and run.

Driving down to Füssen along the B17 there are a couple of spots along the road with vistas overlooking the Bannwaldsee. Given the right conditions (morning mist, evening colour), these spots can be worth stopping at too.

There are nice panoramas of Füssen and the Forggensee to be had from the top of the Tegernsee Cable Car. Be aware that you won't be able to see Neuschwanstein from here though.

The Mists of Winter

December deceived us. After a series of decent snowfalls through Advent we thought that we might see a white Christmas, or at the very least that we could get away to snow in the mountains over the holiday period. Unfortunately, the closer we got, the warmer the weather and the more elusive the winter conditions. We had one great morning hoar frost that I was too busy to monopolise on, and that was it! If we're in Germany at New Years we have a standing invitation to visit friends just over the border in Austria. In previous years we've had to shovel 50 cm of snow off the cars and out of the drive in the morning, have been able to ski cross country around the lake, or even skate on the lake one snow-free winter to the music of the ice singing to us.

Traces of Winter || Olympus 41 mm, f/13, 1/20 s, ISO 400 

This year all we had were a few piles of snow, a very sad looking cross-country track - or Loipe - on the mountain pass and a half-frozen lake that was of no use to man nor beast. Settling down after we arrived in their grand picture window living room I was a little dejected. Some photographers keep abreast of the weather, hovering over reports like a hawk. Christian Irmler's latest YouTube video is all about interpreting meteorological data and seems all very 'next level' to me (or maybe that's one of the reasons why he's a much better photographer than me). Yes, I follow the weather forecasts a little bit, but I tend to react rather than plan, making use of what I have rather than planning ahead. But that's why my eyes suddenly lit up sitting in that window making me grab my camera and tripod and dash to the terrace in the fading light. 

Wedgewood Scene || Olympus 38 mm, f/8, 2.5 s, ISO 200 

The snow might have been tatty, the ice incomplete and the sky thoroughly uninspiring, but there was MIST! And there were trees! All of a sudden, things were looking up. Mist has the ability to transform dull forests into places of wonder, creating layers and atmosphere out of featureless rows of trees and so when the mist started drifting across the water, the camera came out.

My father joined us for Christmas this year and came down to the mountains with us. He's not quite as agile as he used to be, but for an octogenarian he does very well. He's very interested in current events, a keen reader of political biographies and an ardent Europhile, making birthday present shopping easy for us this year (below). 

Dad at 80 || Olympus 38 mm, f/4, 1/13 s, ISO 800

The next morning, we all headed out to do our own thing; the kids went off to search for a suitable piste whilst our host took to his e-bike and dad ambled around the village, leaving Sharon and I to hunt for sufficient snow to cross-country ski on. We found a very sorry looking Loipe in Going, which is allegedly located at the foot of the Wilde Kaiser range, but with the thick fog we were having, it was very difficult to assess the veracity of this claim. Thick fog. Trees. Again, we were able to make the most of a poor situation.

Foggy Firs || Olympus 44 mm, f/16, 1/8000 s, ISO 200

After traipsing round the surprisingly good track twice, we decided that the snow wasn't going to get any better (well, I decided, Sharon had to find out for herself the hard way that I was right) and thought that we'd try out our hosts' recommendation and head up to the Hintersteinersee ('lake-behind-the-rock' - ever inventive with their names these Austrians). Driving up from the village of Scheffau in the valley, we caught occasional glimpses of the snow-kissed mountains, finally arriving at the lake to find ourselves on the magic border between mist and sun. There was a ridge of rock between the lake and the sun. Everything in the shadow of the ridge was covered in mist, including the completely frozen lake, everything else was in the sun, and there was snow. Finally we'd hit photographic Eldorado.

The Magic Border || Olympus 25 mm, f/16, 1/200 s, ISO 64 

After a leisurely lunch in the Seestuberl we headed out to circumnavigate the lake anticlockwise. There's a good track along the north side of the lake but the shore is sadly inaccessible for the most part, being privately owned. There are a couple of spots though where it was possible to traipse through the snow to the waters edge to catch a few images. 

Winter Birch || Olympus 17 mm, f/11, 1/40 s, ISO 64

Buoy in the Mist || Olympus 61 mm, f/8, 1/400 s, ISO 64

Swimming Platform || Olympus 75 mm, f/8, 60 s, ISO 64

Frozen Reeds || Olympus 100 mm, f/8, 1/10 s, ISO 64

Misty Farmland || Olympus 100 mm, f/8, 1/60 s, ISO 64

Reeds and Mist || Olympus 28 mm, f/8, 1/500 s, ISO 64 

At the far end there is a cluster of guest houses (that looked to be a little more cozy than the Seestuberl if I'm honest), where the path then turns the corner to the much more adventurous south side. The trail becomes more of a path here, cutting through the forest, going up and down much more than we expected. Where there was snow on the path it had become very compacted, usually at the most inopportune spots (of course). Shooting from the shady side gave some more abstract images of the ice and the mist.

Patterns in the Ice || Olympus 57 mm, f/8, 1/25 s, ISO 400

Beech Leaves Against the Ice || Olympus 41 mm, f/11, 1/4 s, ISO 400

It did freeze overnight on New Year's Eve, letting me grab these ice abstracts from the lake shore.

Ice Abstract I || Olympus 100 mm, f/8, 1/320 s, ISO 400

Ice Abstract II || Olympus 50 mm, f/13, 1/50 s, ISO 400

I'd packed the Big Gun (Olympus M. Zuiko f/5-5.6 100-400 mm) in the hope of catching some garden birds in the snow as I had done a few years before, but, alas, the bird table was empty this year. As we were getting ready to go out to lunch on New Years Day, however, I noticed the sun catching the Dreibrunnenjoch over the lake. I could pick out some detail with my trusty 12-100, but putting on the 100-400 I could really get some reach and was able to catch this scene as a Last Hurrah.

Magical Winter Mists || Olympus 292 mm, f/8, 1/640 s, ISO 400

All that remains is for me to wish you all the best for 2022, health, happiness and great photos!