The Wrong Mountain

In future, I think we'll stick to doing winter tours that we know from the summer. Yesterday The Wife and I embarked on a winter tour from one of the books I bought her for Christmas. It was supposed to take us up the 1542 m Reuterwanne above Jungholz, a small Austrian village that is accessible to Germany during the lockdown due to the fact that it exists as an enclave into Germany. Who knows what they were drinking when they drew up the borders after WWII?, but this is definitely a weird one.

From the Pfeiffenberg || Olympus 13 mm, f/8, 1/1000 s, ISO 200 

Instead we ended up on the 1458 m Pfeiffenberg because we followed the tracks in the snow. Although most of the valley snow has disappeared, it snowed again on Friday. With a cold but sunny forecast for Saturday we decided that it would be rude to sit at home doing nothing and decided to head out to the hills once more. We were treated to a day of two halves. Actually, to be more accurate, we had a foggy day with a sunny interlude because the fog rolled in again as we came down the mountain, giving us some really special images, but more of that later.

Frosty Trees || Olympus 34 mm, f/8, 1/1600 s, ISO 200

We set off from a surprisingly empty car park in Jungholz - whether people were intimidated by driving into Austria (😮), they'd been put off by the fog, or whether in March they'd simply had enough of the snow, there simply weren't that many people under way, which suited us just fine. Finding the first landmark on the tour was easy since it simply required us to follow the signposts to the Stubentalalpe. The book (and signs) had the path following up the hillside behind the hut to the Reuterwanne and so we blindly followed the tracks leading up the hillside. What we failed to see was where the path to the Reuterwanne diverged and so we found ourselves atop the wrong mountain with no discernible path to getting on the right one.

The Process

But never mind, because we came home with an SD card full of 'keepers' and memories of a lovely winter tour pretty much on our own. A keeper is a photo that I'll keep (duh!) and show either here, Instagram or on my private Facebook page. Not necessarily the best of the best, but good enough to air publicly. After years of photography, I have developed a clear sorting method for photos at the end of the day. I'll import the photos directly into ON1, applying my own private preset - a set of standard modifications that I use during RAW processing. Almost all of these are not actually applied, but available to be used at a single click rather than diving through various menus. During import, I also back the photos up to an external USB hard drive. This has actually saved my butt once recently too as I managed to delete a whole folder worth of photos from my laptop.

Keeper or Not? || Olympus 47 mm, f/8, 1/1000 s, ISO 400 

Once imported, I use the ***** system to indicate which photos I actually want to process with a single star. I'll then go through these one by one, applying the edits I think best enhance the photo to emphasise the aspect of the image that really caught my attention. The edits that I'm happy with I'll give two stars to. These are the images I end up exporting to jpg from ON1, most of which will end up being published somewhere. I tend not to be overly selective here. I have one friend who posts perhaps a couple of photos there a month and they're really top-notch images. I'm a bit more indiscriminate and tend to spray my images everywhere. The really good ones will get three stars, but that's perhaps a small handful of images in a month.

The Foggy Half

Photographing isn't necessarily the first thing you think about doing in fog - but the results can be amazing. I got a couple of really painterly images from yesterday's tour that couldn't have been taken in any other conditions.  This first one of the shed in the snow was actually the very first image I took of the day. This I might even classify as a three star image. Note that it thumbs its nose completely at the rule of thirds etc., but it works, for me at least. Great way to start the day

Lone Shed || Olympus 29 mm, f/6.3, 1/1000 s, ISO 400

As well as the fresh snow there was a wicked hoarfrost as we walked up out of the village due to the freezing fog. We tend to think of nature as a constant, what's there today will be there tomorrow, but these photos tell a different story. Even as I write this 24 h after taking the photos, I know that they were unique, unrepeatable snapshots in time. Never again will that shed scene look exactly like that. Never again will that branch have that constellation of ice crystals. The same is the case for images with powerful clouds. Sobering thoughts.

Ice Crystals || Olympus  100 mm, f/11, 1/160 s, ISO 400

I decreased the aperture to f/11 here to increase the depth of field on the crystals. F/8, my standard aperture for this lens, just wasn't doing it and I didn't want to stop down too much further as it would have reduced the shutter speed to a level where motion blur might start becoming an issue. A lot of photographers only talk about aperture as a means to control depth of field, but it's only one of three factors influencing how much of your scene will be in focus alongside focal length and focal distance (how long your lens is and how close you are to the subject respectively).

Once we reached the Stubentalalpe we were out in the brilliant blue skies of an early spring day - after all meteorological spring started last week and we continued enjoying that light until we came down again after lunch. There was fog below us and rolling over the tops every now and then, but by and large it was pure sunshine until we descended back to the hut.

Standing Out and Hidden || Olympus 20 mm, f/8, 1/250 s, ISO 200

Snaking our way back down the tarmac to Jungholz at the end of our tour we came across this group of trees across the road. At a first glance the images look black and white, but they're full colour as you can see if you look at the snow poles and trail sign. An interesting set of images that aren't quite my usual style, but I really like them and could imagine them looking good printed on wood.

The Sunny Half

Once we'd reached the Stubentalalpe it was blue skies all the way, giving rise to a different sort of monochrome - white and blue instead of black and white. The colour of the fir trees was essentially non-existent given the bright light. Normally I would have had my CPL polarising filter on in conditions like this, but because the scene was so bright anyway I decided not to use it as it would have made the skies even darker and I was looking for some brighter images.

At the Stubentalalpe || Olympus 21 mm, f/8, 1/2500 s, ISO 400

Arriving at the Pfeiffenberg we found this delightful little wooden cross. At this point we thought we were still on the right path - we weren't -  and could see the Reuterwanne but couldn't clearly see how to get to it. Again, a unique image. Never again will this particular snow pattern exist to be photographed.

Pfeffenberg || Olympus 66 mm, f/5.6, 1/4000 s, ISO 200 

This next image is a complete fake! The path ran through the snow to the left of the drift. Apart from looking ugly, I wanted to see how far I could take the image correction. There are a couple of blotches that I might be able to correct with a little more effort, but the resulting image is adequate without being a showstopper. This is about the limit of corrections that I'll apply to an image outside of focus or exposure bracketing. I won't do sky replacements, for example, not because it's wrong per se, but photography for me is about conveying the beauty of what I saw and experienced. There's an inherent authenticity involved. This is probably a step too far.

Drifts || Olympus 23 mm, f/4.5, 1/6400 s, ISO 200 

Coming off the top we descended into a mini winter wonderland of baby fir trees. You can clearly see the valley fog in this photo. The trail through the snow is the same one as the shot of the drifts, demonstrating the extent of the 'corrections' that were necessary.

Winter Wonderland ||  Olympus HR 12 mm, f/8, 1/1250 s, ISO 200

And I can't come away from a trip to the mountains without a photo of a tree stump!

The Stump || Olympus 31 mm, f/8, 1/1600 s, ISO 200

Descending further we came across a mini plateau with a series of deciduous trees that still had snow and/or hoarfrost on the branches giving rise to this fantastic vista - as well as providing a great spot for lunch. 

Ming Vase-Landscape ||  Olympus 12 mm, f/8, 1/1600 s, ISO 200

Sat opposite this vista for quite a while gave me plenty of opportunity to 'work the composition' as the profi's would put it, and I tried a number of approaches including two with some 'foreground interest', but as so often with these scenes for me, I found the best image to have been my first 'instinct' shot when I arrived at the scene. The others seem contrived somehow with the foreground detracting from the simplicity of the scene that this one conveys nicely rather than adding to it.

Long Pines ||  Olympus 75 mm, f/8, 1/1250 s, ISO 200

It was also nice light to catch a couple of rare up close shots of Sharon in her natural element - the mountains.

The Wife ||  Olympus 80 mm, f/7.1, 1/1000 s, ISO 200

Mahlzeit! ||  Olympus 12 mm, f/7.1, 1/2000 s, ISO 200

So that was our Saturday morning. What did you get up to, anything interesting?

Cloud Inversion on the Hörnle

The blogposts seem to be like London buses at the moment. You wait ages for one, and then three come along at once! Don't worry, this will be the last for a week or so and there won't be as much text with this one.

Layers || Olympus 100 mm, f/8, 1/1600 s, ISO 200

We (i.e. The Wife) decided that we should go for a walk on Sunday morning, so we headed down to one of our regular mountains, the Hörnle above Bad Kohgrub at the edge of the Ammergau Alps. There was an off chance that the kiosk might be open at the Hörnle Hütte - or at least that was the carrot that was dangled before me...

I'd schlepped the regular camera gear with me (in my case this is the Oly E-M1 Mk III with by trusty 12-100 mm lens attached and the Pano Leica 8-18 mm in the bag just in case). Standing around in dense fog in the car park above the Hörnle Bahn I wasn't convinced that I'd actually be getting it out of its pouch. Oh how wrong I was!

Frozen Catkins || Olympus 41 mm, f/5.6, 1/250 s, ISO 200 

It started in the carpark already when I noticed these frosty catkins. Stopping the aperture down to throw the background out of focus and dancing around the hazel to try and get the right composition, this is the best I came up with. It wasn't until we'd got home and I saw the Girl-Child's take on this - she'd managed to get a comp with an old wooden hut in the background, but by then it was too late to go back.

The frozen foggy forest was full of little delights like this, be it the fir trees or cobwebs tucked in between the roots of a tree.

Christmas Decorations || Olympus 54 mm, f/5.6, 1/60 s, ISO 200

Cobweb Gems || Olympus 25 mm, f/5.6, 1/13 s, ISO 200

It's always worth keeping your eyes open for a quick abstract in the forest and this piece of bark caught my eye with its brown and orange tones combined with the frost emphasising the edges. The fog was working as a giant lightbox, taking away the harshness that direct sunlight would have caused.

Bark Abstract || Olympus 100 mm, f/5.6, 1/80 s, ISO 200

Handprints || Olympus 38 mm, f/8, 1/60 s, ISO 200

As we climbed through the forest it got lighter and lighter with occasional glimpses of blue sky above and we knew that we would soon be emerging above the clouds. I was ready for the sun disk, but nothing prepared us for the haunting fog-shadows caused by the trees as we reached the clear air.

Shadows in the Mist || Olympus 28 mm, f/5.6, 1/1250 s, ISO 200 

First Glimpse of Sun || Olympus 100 mm, f/5.6, 1/4000 s, ISO 200

Into the Light || Olympus 12 mm, f/8, 1/8000 s, ISO 200

Haunted Trees I || Olympus 41 mm, f/8, 1/4000 s, ISO 200

Haunted Trees II || Olympus 28 mm, f/5.6, 1/250 s, ISO 200

Edge of the Mist || Olympus 38 mm, f/5.6, 1/250 s, ISO 200

Out of the clouds the hike was pleasant enough, but without the fog as an interest there weren't so many shots to be had any more, though the views from the summit over the thick cloud bank were fine enough. There were plenty of people around at the hut and all three Hörnle summits - Vorderes, Mittleres and Hinteres.

Towards the Hörnle Hütte || Olympus 12 mm, f/8, 1/1250 s, ISO 200

Hörnle Round incl. Zugspitze || Huawei P30 Panorama

Hinteres Hörnle || Olympus 70 mm, f/8, 1/1600 s, ISO 200

We came back down via the sledge run. Fortunately we'd brought our spikes with us - poor man's crampons that you pull over the boots to give extra grip on icy ground. The fog had a couple more special shots left for us before we got back to the car.

Spot: On || Olympus 34 mm, f/8, 1/13 s, ISO 200

Bad Kohlgrub || Olympus 31 mm, f/8, 1/800 s, ISO 200

So, when the forecast is dodgy, don't leave your camera at home. Sometimes challenging conditions can give rise to some unique images.

Wishing you interesting light.

Mike

A Walk In The Park With The Olympus M. Zuiko 100-400 f/5-6.3

I was talking to a colleague on Wednesday when she let it drop that her husband, a good friend of mine, was in one of the parks in Munich photographing tawny owls with their son. I'd known about at least one of the owls - the infamous Kazimir - from another photographer's Facebook posts, but when I learned that there were four of five of them, that they were in relatively predictable positions, that the best time of year to shoot them is when there are no leaves on the trees and that the weather for the following day was going to be great, well I had to go, didn't I? Plus I have such a backlog of leave from last year that I really need to start using up and so early Thursday morning I set off in the car to drive into the centre of Munich.

Schloß Nymphenburg || Olympus 12 mm, f/8, 1/500 s, ISO 200

We've been having some spectacular sunrises at the moment due to Sahara sand in the air and Thursday morning was no exception. Driving down to the motorway I was greeted by the most amazing sight; a perfect disc of yellow rising behind some naked trees with a misty foreground. One of those once in a lifetime shots and I had a car full of camera gear. But also a date with some owls. It'll have to be one of those that got away...

Kanali Catching the Rays || Olympus 400 mm, 1/125 s, f/6.3, ISO 200

Finding my friend in the park wasn't difficult, the first known roost tree is just behind Nymphenburg palace by the canal (I don't think I'm giving any secrets away here), and so there I was before 8 am setting up my tripod in the park, getting out my new mega zoom and trying to find a position through the twigs and branches. The photos make it look easier than it was. Getting the right angle was not straightforward and emphasised the need to be shooting these beautiful birds now rather than in a month's time, when the trees will be shooting bright green new leaves.

Hi-Res Kanali || Olympus 400 mm, 1/125 s, f/6.3, ISO 200

This was one of the first photos I took of the bird who has affectionately been named "Kanali" due to his proximity to the canal (yeah, the Germans can be really imaginative). Remarkably, the bird was sitting still enough for me to engage one of the Olympus camera's super-powers; the high res mode. Using some technical jiggery-pokery, the camera moves the sensor by a few microns in each direction over multiple shots, creating an 80 MP shot using a 20 MP sensor. I never imagined I'd be using this magic on wildlife, but I didn't have anything to lose and am really happy with the way it turned out. If you look at the branches above the owl you can see some artefacts generated by the breeze moving the twigs between the individual shots, but I'm really pleased with how this turned out and could easily imaging this hanging on my wall.

Canada Goose || Olympus 400 mm, 1/160 s, f/6.3, ISO 200

Classical Swan || Olympus 400 mm, 1/160 s, f/13, ISO 200

Of course there aren't only owls in the park. There are more lesser spotted woodpeckers than you can shake a stick at, plenty of tits and nuthatches. An ornithologist friend who was out with us was able to point out the song of some wallcreepers and of course with all the open water there is also an abundance of ducks, geese and swans. On another day I'd have had an eye out for the swans in flight, landing on the water and taking off, but today was all about the owls. I did allow myself to be distracted for a couple of minutes to take this canadian goose resting between the frost-crested mole hills and a classical swan shot. Nothing to write home about, but nice portraits nevertheless. I particularly like the repeating patterns of the molehills with the goose - a nice bit of tessellation with a difference.

Light Through the Palace || Olympus 342 mm, f/11, 1/200 s, ISO 200

After spending an hour or so admiring Kanali we headed north to the Pagoda and the Kleiner See - the little lake. There's another owl roost east of the lake, but be warned that the park rangers don't look kindly on people walking on the grass here.

Tawny Owl || Olympus 400 mm, 1/160 s, f/6.3, ISO 200

Our third owl was in the woods north of the lake, set well back from the path with a poor line of sight. This one is very shy and we had to wait a while for him to show even this much above the lip of his hole.

Shy Owl || Olympus 400 mm, 1/100 s, f/6.3, ISO 200

When shooting birds like this, don't be afraid to fill up your memory cards. Some of the owl shots were taken with manual focus, some with auto focus. Not even the pros get 100% focus lock and so really can be a case of 'spray and pray', sorting out the very best shots afterwards on the PC. You're looking at my pick from 150 photos here, a much lower keeper rate than I'm used to from my landscape and macro photos, but this is a different game and different rules apply.

Back to Kanali || Olympus 400 mm, 1/200 s, f/6.3, ISO 200

You will need a good length lens to get decent shots though. Most of these shots are cropped at least a little bit to focus in on the birds. I was mostly shooting at the long end of the 100-400 mm - that's 200-800 mm in full format terms and I think the tripod was necessary. With more megapixels you could probably get away with a shorter lens, but it would be a compromise.

Leaving the park I was struck by the clumps of snowdrops and crocuses lining the paths and so I dropped back to my trusty 12-100 mm for a few close ups before heading hope for lunch.

Snowdrops || Olympus 54 mm, f/5.6, 1/1000 s, ISO 200

Crocus || Olympus 100 mm, f/8, 1/200 s, ISO 200

Incidentally, if you're interested in getting together to shoot some time, we've now created a Facebook group: Munich Expats Photo Group. If you on Facebook, get in touch, otherwise drop me a line using the contact information on the right here. I'm always looking for partners in crime!

Winter Sundowner at the Ammersee

I have the enormous privilege of living about a 10 min car ride from one of Bavaria's most picturesque lakes, the Ammersee. We've seen it in all conditions, from balmy sunny evenings, after torrential rain with mosquito plagues, autumn storms with huge waves and speeding kite surfers to completely frozen over in 2006. Working from home it's really easy to get there for a quick excursion. Although it's really chilly here at the moment - we're talking negative double digit Celsius - I was really surprised not to find more ice when I took off after work on Friday afternoon to check it out. Dawn that day had been really pretty and I had high hopes for the sunset despite the lack of significant cloud.

The Boathouse at Stegen I || Olympus 12 mm, f/4, 15 s, ISO 200 

Dressing up warm is critical in conditions like this. I knew I was going to be spending quite a while outside and so I put on downhill ski trousers over my jeans, heavy mountain boots with a second pair of socks, a windproof jacket, scarf, woolly hat and my latest acquisition, my Vallerret Markhof Pro 2.0 photography gloves. These are great thick gloves with foldable tips on the index fingers and thumbs allowing you to access all the necessary dials and buttons on the camera without exposing your whole hand. The finger tips fold back on strong magnets hidden unobtrusively within the fabric to keep out of the way.

I've included a screenshot of a Google map of Stegen (am Ammersee) detailing where each shot was taken in case you're interested. For more original ideas and inspiration regarding where to shoot at the Ammersee, Google images of the Ammersee or check out some of the local photo websites, such as Werner's Fototräume (also great for other photo spots in the vicinity).

Photo Locations from this Blog

The Solitary Boathouse at Stegen (1)

Arriving at the car park as most people were beginning to leave - not that the car park was very full anyway (had I mentioned how nippy it was?) - I was at first disappointed at the lack of ice, but I'd had the foresight to bring my neutral density filters and was confidant that I'd be able to get a few decent images out of the evening.

The Boathouse at Stegen II || Olympus 16 mm, f/8, 1/50 s, ISO 200

Once you get past the restaurants, the first landmark is the boathouse next to the beer garden. Always a thankful motive in the evening sun. The light was quite challenging so I slipped the Olympus into exposure bracketing mode and hand-took this image. It's not an HDR, but it is an exposure blend, with the sky, water and boathouse are all taken from separate images and assembled in ON1 Photo Raw - though any decent processing software will do the trick.

Boathouse Row at Stegen (2)

The second landmark is the row of boathouses with the Wasserwacht or lifeguard station. Again, sunset is always kind to these huts as you can see here. Whether or not you use the shoreline as a curved leading line is entirely up to you. On a clear day, the Alps form a pleasing backdrop to the right inviting you to taking a wider panorama. This time I had to be content with a pleasant orange glow on the horizon, which also works. The way the trees echo the line of the houses and the reflection all emphasise the structures in the scene.

Boathouse Row I || Olympus 23 mm, f/8, 1/125 s, ISO 200

The Jetty at Stegen (3)

The third stop and my actual destination was the background jetty in the photo here. The jetty leading from the beach huts doesn't work as there are no crosspieces down at the moment and looking along it you just get a wooden skeleton. I took my time setting up for this shot. At other times of the year you can line up the jetty pointing at the sun, but in February that's just not going to work. In order to bring a connection between the elements I elected for this 'compromise', placing the setting sun just over the end of the jetty. Tripod out, filters out. Assemble everything together, careful not to zoom out too far as my filters tend to vignette below about 14 mm. It was here that I noticed that the L-bracket had come loose. The clever people at Vallerret had anticipated this eventuality though. The back of each glove has a little pocket that you can stuff things like lens cloths in. The left pocket comes with a tripod key on a lengthy lanyard and so instead of having to fumble around in the fading light for the necessary tool, it was literally to hand.

You can see from the previous shot of the huts that the although the water near the shore was protected and relatively flat, further out the wind was ruffling the surface. In order to reduce the impact of the phenomenon it was time for the Big Stopper, an almost opaque piece of glass that goes in front of lens to reduce light, turning a 1/60 s exposure into a 20 s exposure, the minimum that was needed to iron out those waves. The almost direct sun was a bit of a problem so the next tool in the bag was the graduated filter. This is less dark than the Big Stopper but is gradated, one half being clear and the other darker for bringing down dark skies.

The Jetty I || Olympus 16 mm, f/5.6, 20 s, ISO 200

Processing-wise there wasn't a lot to do here. I've further darkened the sky and actually de-saturated it a bit to make the colours more pastel. I've done my usual trick of actually brightening the snow on the jetty to emphasise the line. As long as you don't blow the exposure, this is a really great technique to make an image stand out that I discovered when astro-shooting in the Alps in the early summer and revisited in my November edit of an image of the first snow of the season. They say that a good photo has rhythm - a difficult thing to define. One of the things I like about this photo is the repeating structures of the lines which are nicely parallel, from the jetty to the clouds and contrails (remember them?).

I shot quite a few of this scene as the sun sank below the horizon, but I think this one was the best of the set. There are always going to be shots that are blurred due to slight movements of the tripod, so shoot a few and sort out the best when you get back to the warm.

Back to Boathouse Row (2)

With the sun well and truly set it was time to start walking back to the car. A couple more 'togs were lingering around the boathouses and so I stopped to scout around to see what the fuss was about. I found this tiny inlet in the shore that caught my interest. Not a classical leading line, but it still takes the  viewer's eye in the right direction. I went as wide as I could, having put the Panasonic Leica 8-18 mm on the camera for this shot. The tripod was set low to the ground too.

Boathouse Row II || Olympus 8 mm, f/4.5, 5 s, ISO 64

Satisfied that I'd got the best out of the boathouses for the day I combed the beach back towards the restaurants. The sky still had a lot of interesting colour in it and it looked beautiful above the docked pleasure steamers at Stegen. Unfortunately, looking beautiful doesn't always translate to a great photo. I took a few, but none made the cut.

The Solitary Boathouse Revisited (1)

The last port of call was the original boathouse. By now, even though there was still a bit of colour in the sky, it was getting quite dark. But I'd come prepared with both my LumeCube panel and a head torch. The panel didn't like the cold very much. Even though I'd charged it completely before coming out it was only showing 30% power, plus it wasn't really cutting through the dark as I'd hoped. It wasn't the light source for the job. Fortunately the head torch was. My first image was from the east looking towards the sunset (first photo above). You can imagine from the photo why a little extra illumination was necessary. The light beam from the torch was quite narrow and so I waved my head back and forth over the wooden structure over the whole 15 s exposure. If you look carefully you can see the first stars beginning to appear in the sky. This for me is the magic window of light for photography - enough ambient light to be able to see features on the ground, the first stars visible and with a bit of colour in the sky from the setting sun. As you can imagine, it's a very narrow window, but if you get it right you can get some stunning images.

The Boathouse at Stegen III || Olympus 12 mm, f/4, 20 s, ISO 400

This last image is from the other side of the boathouse as the light was really fading. Again the boathouse was lit by my head torch. By playing around I found that if I illuminated for 10 s out of a 20 s exposure the light on the house was about right, though I did adjust it a bit in post - it's always difficult to accurately assess exposure in the dark as the camera screen always looks comparatively bright unless you dim it down. Keeping an eye on the histogram can certainly help, but here it was tricky to judge exactly how much light to add. I was certainly glad of the Vallerrets at this point. I really didn't want to have to be taking gloves on and off to fiddle with the settings in those temperatures.

I love how prominent Orion's Belt is in the winter sky here. Given the wide aperture I was surprised that the stars were as sharp as they have turned out here. That's micro four thirds cameras for you.

If you're local to us in Bavaria and are interested in a pair of Vallerret Markhofs, size L, drop me a line. They were just too small for me and I had to go XL. They're out of stock with Vallerret at the moment so if you want to do some winter photography this season I can warmly recommend them.

Afterword - If At First You Don't Succeed

A couple of the photography YouTube greats have recently released vlogs saying essentially the same thing. The one thing that will advance you as a photographer more than any other, the golden lesson of photography is... ...perseverance. I've had a couple of opportunities to practice this discipline over the last 12 months, whether the various attempts at astrophotography or trying again and again to get the right conditions on the covered bridge at Bad Hindelang, and every time it has paid off in spades. There were a couple of issues with the photos I took on Friday. I was especially unhappy with the photo of the jetty; the composition was off meaning that I had to heavily crop the image to get one that I was happy with and the aperture was so wide open that the depth of field was too narrow to catch the background ridge in focus (below). So tonight I returned, wife and girl-child in tow, to try and rectify my errors.

Reducing a picture to the essential elements

Valentine's Swans || Olympus 57 mm, f/8, 1/125 s, ISO 200

This time the view to the mountains was clear and there was some ice forming on the still water in front of the row of boathouses. On top of this, there were multiple pairs of swans on the water - how aposite for Valentine's day. I allowed myself to be distracted by both the birds and the boathouses before hurrying down to the jetty. I got a better crop, but the bitty ice detracts from the simplicity of the previous image and a lot of snow had gone from the jetty.

Boathouse Row III - HDR || Olympus 17 mm, f/8, 1/80 s, ISO 200 

This time I could get the composition and focus fixed on the jetty... ...but the ice is too gritty after kids were playing on it all day and the colours in the sky weren't quite as good. But hey, ho.

The Jetty II || Olympus 24 mm, f/8, 10 s, ISO 100

It's always a good idea to look around even when you've got a specific composition in mind. Ice had formed around the legs of the jetty and the water level had subsequently decreased, leaving these feet around the bottom. Against the light they formed an interesting sculpture.

Icy Foot || Olympus 86 mm, f/4, 50 s, ISO 100

And then the new moon revealed itself in the southwestern sky, giving me a chance to try another composition with the jetty including the mountains in the background...

The Jetty III  with New Moon and Swans || Olympus 14 mm, f/8, 1/10 s, ISO 100

The Jetty IV || Olympus 17 mm, f/8, 5 s, ISO 100

...and yet another with the boathouses before I was dragged back to the car by my half-frozen ladies. But I had promised them that we wouldn't stay too long and I was happy enough with the blue-hour photos from Friday. 

Boathouse Row IV || Olympus 8 mm, f/8, 5 s, ISO 100

Lessons Learned

Every time I go out I make mistakes. Every time I make mistakes I learn something. On Friday I learned about the best composition for the jetty. On Sunday I learned more about the Olympus high res mode and that patience is required when using it in conjunction with long exposures. A couple of times I thought it had crashed, when in fact it was just taking its time. Because I thought it had crashed I turned the camera off mid-processing, leading to me losing the first 2 or 3 high res shots. This mode is also too slow for lunar photography in combination with these long exposures - the moon simply moves too fast. Fewer mistakes to make next time.

Photography is like sailing or hiking. In fair weather it's easy. Mistakes are easily rectified, items are easy to find in rucksacks, etc. But the practice of doing those mundane things in straightforward conditions pays dividends when the going gets tough. When it's so cold that you can't think straight. When it's so dark that you can't remember where you put that filter. When the conditions are changing fast and you need to access a particular function on the camera, if you don't have the fair weather experience to fall back on, you'll just go home frustrated. If you want to be a good photographer, if you want to come home with the great photos taken in challenging conditions, practice all you can. You will be rewarded.