I think most of us start off as opportunistic photographers and end up slowly transitioning to intentional photography. What do I mean by this? Most people's first foray into photography is whilst doing something else; being with someone special, at a concert, on a beach experiencing a cool sunset, exploring a new city, on a hike in the mountains, etc. We come across a scene that looks amazing and want to capture it either as a way of reminding ourselves of the moment at a later date or to show it to someone who wasn't there (though we know that it's not always straightforward translating a powerful scene to a good image - see here). Whilst doing something else, we sense an opportunity for a good photo and capitalise on it. Intentional photography involves setting out with the intention of obtaining a certain image or type of image and requires planning and the right conditions.
Riomaggiore Harbour || Olympus 13 mm, f/8, 1/60 s, ISO 200
Over the last year or two I've been sensing a transition in my own photography from the opportunistic to the intentional, not that there's necessarily anything wrong with the opportunistic shot. I suspect that there will always be an element of this in my photography simply because of my mountaineering. Days out photographing with my friend Matthias, purposeful trips down to Raisting or even down to the local woods to find mushrooms in autumn are intentional forays and I'm finding these to be increasingly rewarding as I better understand the conditions necessary to get better pictures. Good photos require several elements; a solid composition, the right light and, if there going to be great photos, even a bit of drama. Opportunistic photos usually only involve the first aspect, and the second if you're lucky. Intentional photos more often combine composition and light. If you persevere and wait for the drama, they can become great:
Opportunity: Riomaggiore harbour front || Olympus 14 mm, f/7.1, 1/800 s, ISO 200
Intention: The harbour front in late afternoon light || Olympus 8 mm, f/8, 1/500 s, ISO 200
Drama: shooting the harbour front in the blue hour || Olympus 18 mm, f/16, 2 s, ISO 200
Stopping down the aperture to f/16 on the M. Zuiko f/4 12-100 let me get some neat starbursts on the lights; probably not to everyone's taste, but it's handy to know how to achieve this effect in camera. A friend accused me of having applied the effect in post, but it's not the case, in fact I did a quick aperture series in order to find the best settings. It can also be tricky balancing the bright lights with the ambient light, so it might be necessary to exposure bracket a scene like this.
This is beginning to feel like big-boy photography. We should have been on a pilgrimage in the second half of October, but, well, you know... So instead we had two weeks free that had to be taken - we've accumulated too much leave over the last year or so and there's only so much we can carry over. After spending the first week at home in Bavaria, for the second week we headed down to the Cinque Terre region of Italy for a week's hiking and photography. Why did it feel like grown-up photography? Read on.
Trees on the horizon || Olympus 100 mm, f/8, 1/25 s, ISO 200
The photography felt a lot more purposeful in the five days we spent on the trails up and down the coast. Sure, we took a load of opportunistic shots during the day, but we were deliberately looking out for compositions that would work at sunset and in the blue hour. Being west-facing, the picturesque villages really come to life in the evenings. The train line that runs between the villages makes this sort of photography dead easy, especially when the days are shorter. Each village is only 2-5 min from the next and the service runs pretty much every 20 min through the day, becoming less frequent after about 9 pm.
Steps, steps and more steps... || Olympus 12 mm, f/8, 1/6 s, ISO 200
We were staying in Riomaggiore, the southernmost of the Five Territories. Travelling between the villages by road is virtually impossible. The best ways to get from one to the other is by boat or by train - there's a line that stops in each of the villages connected by tunnels and terraces above the rocky coast - but the best way to to take in the views is on foot. There's a coastal path between all of the villages. Unfortunately, the path between Riomaggiore, Manorola and Corniglia is under repair at the moment and what would otherwise be a 20 min jaunt along the coast is presently a 60 min, thigh-killing trek up hill and down dale.
Arriving around 5 pm on the first day we found our Airbnb apartment and proceeded to explore the village as the sun was setting.
Sunset in Riomaggiore || Olympus 12 mm, f/8, 1/15 s, ISO 200
Riomaggiore Harbour at Sunset || Olympus 12 mm, f/5.6, 1/2 s, ISO 200
Day one saw us taking the train two stops down the line to Corniglia, the only one of the villages not directly on the coast, and trekking over to Monterosso via Vernazza. The first leg takes you via the highest point on the Cinque Terre trail; Bar Il Gabbiano. Looking back along the trail that we had come from I noticed that we could see both Corniglia and Manarola and made a note of the place as a potential site for an evening shot. This wasn't a view that I'd seen in other photos from the Cinque Terre. I did take the opportunistic shot in the midday light, but it's not worth posting here. But we did come back for sunset and blue hour later on. There are a lot of things that could be done with this scene; zoom out to catch the larger scene or reduce it to the simple elements of the villages in the evening light. Both work, but I'm trying to focus on the 'less is more' principle, reducing photos to the elements that are actually important to a scene. With a sky like this though it's quite difficult to resist taking a wider angled shot.
Corniglia and Manarola || Olympus 50 mm, f/8, 1/30 s, ISO 200
All the Sky || Olympus 23 mm, f/8, 0.6 s, ISO 200
Blue Hour over Corniglia || Olympus 57 mm, f/8, 4 s, ISO 200
We stopped for lunch in Vernazza before heading on to the northernmost village, Monterosso. Vernazza is definitely our favourite of the five villages, with a clear harbour including waterside restaurants and a more developed main thoroughfare. There are some nice views of the village from the approach to Vernazza from the south, though care needs to be taken not to give the tower room against the far shore, as well as from the wooded trek to the north.
Vernazza between the Olive Trees || Olympus, 41 mm, f/16, 1/50 s, ISO 200
Getting the right evening light on Vernazza proved tricky, as even in late October the sun was setting too far north for the right light on the rocky outcrop. I've seen some good blue-hour compositions from this vantage point in the last couple of days though, so maybe it would have been worth waiting around for.
Vernazza in late afternoon light || Olympus 29 mm, f/11, 13 s, ISO 200
There's plenty of room for the more opportunistic and less light-critical shots under way through the olive groves and vineyards that cover the west-facing slopes, though the sun is never too high at this time of year, meaning that it's never too harsh. I don't have any clear rules when looking for images like this, though there are a few things that I always keep my eyes open for on trails like this; doorways and tree stumps are almost always worth a second glance, as are subjects with clear leading lines.
Ancient Doorway || Olympus 20 mm, f/8, 1/4 s, ISO 200
Snippets and Details
Day two took us to the trail from Riomaggiore to Corniglia through vineyards, giving us occasional glimpses of the villages below from Volastra. Normally this route would take you along the coastal path, but this is presently out for repairs meaning that we had to go up and over the hills each time. Having done the trek up and down from Corniglia to the station the day before, we made use of the combined train/bus/trekking ticket that I'd recommend to anyone exploring the area and took the easy route from the village centre to the station.
Vineyards above Manarola || Olympus 47 mm, f/16, 1/50 s, ISO 200
Olives and Vines || Olympus 86 mm, f/16, 1/20 s, ISO 200
Day three saw us taking the train up to Levanto beyond the Cinque Terre and hiking back to Monterosso over the headland before meeting up with Matthias in Manarola in the afternoon to take the classic evening shot of the harbour. We got away quite lightly - there are nightmare stories of photographers standing elbow-to-elbow at the railing overlooking the village.
Could have been worse - shot on my Huawei P30 Pro
Whilst we were not alone, we were able to select the spots we wanted to set up our tripods without getting in too many peoples' way. Most only stayed for sunset, meaning that we were pretty much on our own for the interesting blue-hour.
16:28 Manarola I || Olympus 9 mm, f/8, 1/250 s, ISO 200
17:09 Manarola II || Olympus 9 mm, f/8, 3.2 s, ISO 200
17:35 Manarola III || Olympus 15 mm, f/8, 2 s, ISO 200
17:51 Manarola IV || Olympus 15 mm, f/5.6, 2 s, ISO 200
At the risk of overloading you, I've deliberately included this series of shots from sunset into the blue hour to emphasise the role light plays and how quickly (or slowly) the conditions can change. This is another case of very intentional photography combining composition and light to arrive at a solid image. As I said at the very beginning, if you combine this intentionality with perseverance, you can move from good images to great ones, and I encourage you to visit Mattias' take on this scene a few days later in a stiff autumn storm on his Instagram channel.
Originally we'd planned to trek down to Porto Venere on day four and catch the ferry back, but after three days slogging up and down the steps between the villages we reckoned that we'd earned a slightly easier day and ended up taking the boat down to the tip of the peninsular to check out the options. We were pleasantly surprised with Porto Venere. I suspect that anywhere else it would be on the map of tourist destinations, but due to the proximity to Cinque Terre it tends to get lost among the other sights. The church of St. Peter on the promontory guarding the entrance to the town is particularly photogenic and we were able to grab some good images here as well as in the fortress overlooking the bay before taking the last boat back.
Chiese di San Pietro guarding the entrance to Porto Venere || Olympus 47 mm, f/8, 1/1250 s, ISO 200
Inside the church I || Olympus 28 mm, f/8, 1/3 s, ISO 200
Inside the church II || Olympus 20 mm, f/8, 1/5 s, ISO 200
Sailing boat from the Portico || Olympus 16 mm, f/11, 1/200 s, ISO 200
Light-balls through the Ruins || Olympus 92 mm, f/4, 1/1250 s, ISO 200
I deliberately opened up the aperture for this last shot in order to achieve the light-balls on the sea - kind of the opposite to the starburst effect of closing the aperture down. As we all know, opening up the aperture (lower f-stop) reduces the depth of field for a given focal length and can be used to throw the background (or foreground) nicely out of focus.
The late afternoon approach to Riomaggiore gave us a different perspective on the village as we returned for our last sunset in the Cinque Terre, allowing a different take on the scene.
Riomaggiore from the water || Olympus 100 mm, f/8, 1/800 s, ISO 200
Sundown at Riomaggiore || Olympus 13 mm, f/8, 1/800 s, ISO 200
I'm not sure at this point whether we'll get back to Cinque Terre for another trip. I'd put it off for ages as the place is normally completely overrun. Being late in the season and without the intercontinental tourists it was very pleasant, but apart from missing a decent set of storm images I feel that I've done as much as I can there.
If you're ever interested on a 1:1 or 1:2 nature photography workshop, get in touch and we can work something out.
The end of the year is looming, the end of the month will be the first Advent already, which means that it's beyond time for me to get my act together for the 2022 photo calendar. After wrestling a little with the theme for this year's images, a chance comment from one of the photographers I follow on YouTube got me thinking. Christian Irmler is an excellent Austrian landscape photographer, but like my friend Matthias, he looks for images that are purely nature and generally tries to avoid man-made structures, which is fine, we don't all have to shoot the same things after all, that would be tiresome. Christian mentioned that he would include artificial elements if it helped to tell a story, which challenged me to think about why I often deliberately include such elements. I think it's the optimist in me: We can live in harmony with creation if we do it responsibly and sustainably. Right now, COP26 is taking place in Glasgow, an event that many are touting as the last chance. Let's hope we grasp it.
So that's the theme for this year's calendar - structures in harmony with creation. Looking back at last year's images, there were already several that fell within this category. I know that some people might be disappointed that there are no fungi or macro photos. Maybe another year, but this year is all about the partnership.
As last year, the calendars will be sold on a pay-what-you-want basis. Print costs will be approximately €10 (depending on the print number) and European postage around €7.50 (based on last year's postage). UK fans of my photography will have to wait until mid January if they want a calendar: due to Brexit, Germany to UK postage is simply too cumbersome and I'll be asking my father and son to post any calendars from within the UK after Christmas. Sorry.
As last year, proceeds will go to Doctors Without Borders. Thank you for your support. Let me know your orders via mike(at)page4page.de
Das Ende des Jahres naht; am Monatsende haben wir bereits 1. Advent, daß heißt es wird Zeit, die Fotos für den Kalender 2022 zusammen zu suchen. Nach dem Ringen nach der Bildthema hat mich einen Zufalls-kommentar eines YouTube-Fotografen den Anstoß gegeben. Christian Irmler ist ein ausgezeichneter Österreichischer Landschafts-fotografen, aber analog zu meinem Foto Kollegen Mattias macht er überwiegend reine Naturfotos und versucht künstliche Strukturen zu meiden, soweit es geht. Schön und gut, wir müssen nicht alle dasselbe fotografieren - das wäre langweilig. Christian hat auch erwähnt, daß er gegebenenfalls menschliche Elementen in einem Bild einbaut, soweit es die Geschichte des Bild dient. Beim Nachdenken habe ich überlegt, warum ich öfters solche Elementen gezielt aussuche. Ich glaube, es ist der Optimist in mir; wir könnten sehr wohl in Harmonie mit der Schöpfung leben, wenn wir dies nur nachhaltig und mit Verantwortung tun würden. Gerade findet im Schottischen Glasgow das COP26 statt. Hoffentlich kommt dabei was Gutes raus.
Und damit haben wir das Thema zum 2022 Kalender - Menschliche Strukturen in Harmonie mit der Schöpfung. Wenn ich die Bilder von diesem Jahr wieder anschaue, gab es bereits viele Bilder, die in dieser Kategorie fallen. Ich weiß, es werden einige enttäuscht sein, das keine Pilze oder Makrobilder zu sehen sind. Vielleicht ein anderes Mal, aber diesmal geht es um die Parnterschaft.
Wie letztes Jahr, verkaufe ich die Kalender auf ‘Zahl-was-du-willst’ Basis. Druckkosten laufen bei ca. €10 (abhängig vom Auflage). Porto lag letztes Jahr bei ca. €7.50.
Wie letztes Jahr geht das ganze Gewinn an Ärzte ohne Grenzen. Danke für deine Unterstützung. Die Bestellung läuft über mike(at)page4page.de
Someone just asked me over on YouTube for hiking tips for the Dolomites, so I thought I'd put a "top five" together based on our own experience over the years. I've been a number of times over the years, starting with a trip to Kastelruth near the Seiser Alm for the kids' first birthday back in 2002. I'm going to use the German place names rather than the Italian ones for simplicity, since these are the ones I'm most familiar with. Since then, we've spent several 7-10 day holidays there in the summer, staying in Malga Ciapela, Corvara and Cortina where we've usually done a mix of hiking and via ferrata. I'll stick to the hiking here for simplicity's sake, assuming that if your into the climbing you'll have other resources to fall back on.
One thing we learned the first time we we visited is not to make the mistake of thinking that you can do all of the Dolomites from a single centre or in a single week. The distances on the map do not translate to normal driving times as the valleys are very steep sided and linked by fantastic pass roads. Do not stay near the Seiser Alm and think you can visit Tre Cime/Dreizinnen as you will spend all day on the road and be very disappointed. I'll probably edit this document in the coming weeks as I want to get this out relatively quickly and I'll flesh out some of the details later when I have time together with photos and links.
I'm going to assume that people reading this are used to rough trails and spending 6-8 h hiking and covering fairly serious altitude differences. Be aware that if you're coming straight from the UK that some of the higher trails, such as Piz Böe, are really quite high and may require some acclimatisation. Don't forget to check the weather forecast and dress appropriately. Make sure you're up to the tour before you start, some of these are quite physically demanding.
Although we've been several times, there are still a lot of places that we don't know at all, so this is just our personal top 5, there are other trails out there that have yet to be discovered by us. Let me know below if you have any favourite tours not listed here, or if you follow any of these suggestions, let us know what you thought.
5: Sellajoch to Col Rodella (2484 m)
A relatively easy tour to start with, walking from the carpark below the Sellajoch (2200 m) to Col Rodella underneath the brooding slopes of the Langkofel/Sassolungo through a grassy landscape.
4: Piz Boë (3152 m)
Piz Boë is a biggy with great views over the Marmolada and north to the Sassongher. Take the chairlift up from Corvara to Rifugio Piz Boë (2200 m). Follow route 672 up and then 638 back down. Check out the Strudel at Rifugio Franz Kostner al Vallon on the way back.
3: Lago di Federa (2040 m)
Great round tour up from Pocol (1500 m) up to Lago di Federa through the forest along route 431 or 434, then back over Forcella de Formin (2462 m) via route 435. Take time to take in the views from the lake; in the autumn when the larch are yellow the view from the western bank of the lake eastwards towards Sorapiss are stunning. Don't forget to stop for Polenta Saucisse with cheese at the refuge Croda da Lago.
2: Cinque Torri to Nuvolau (2574 m)
Either take the chairlift up to Rifugio Scoiatolli (2255 m) or drive up to Rifugio Cinque Torri. Up route 431 to Rifugio Averau at Forcella Nuvolau (2413 m) and then on to Rifugio Nuvolau. Back the same way (unless you're feeling adventurous ;). Great all-round views over the Tofana to the north, Cinque Torri, Croda da Lago to the east and Lagazoi to the west.
1: Tre Cime Round (max. altitude 2454 m)
You can't really go to the north-eastern Dolomites without visiting the Tre Cime, even if you do have to pay an arm and a leg for the toll-road up to Rifugio Auronzo. Get there early in the summer to avoid the massive tailback at the toll station. Park at the Rifugio and then walk anticlockwise around the Tre Cime peaks along route 101 to the Dreizinnenhütte and back via Col Forcellina. If you have time, walk south from Rifugio Auronzo up Monte Comadelle for great view northwards of the Three Peaks.
A: The One That Got Away
I've not done this tour yet, but it's top of my list for next time based on the recommendations of a fellow photographer: Cold di Varda to Rifugio Auronzo through the Cima Cadin di Misurina. This would have to be a one-way trip giving you great views of Lake Misurina and later of the Tre Cime
What is it about the Dolomites that draws us (my wife and I) back again and again? For some reason, this region has a hold on both of us and won't let us go. The impressive peaks, green meadows and constantly changing skies are like a drug, so when I saw an advert several months ago for a week-long astrophotography workshop in the mountains around Cortina, I just knew that I had to go. Once I had the hall-pass in pocket I registered and was very happy to be able to secure one of the restricted places.
The week leading up to the trip I was busy studying the weather forecasts to see whether we were going to be in luck or not. It wasn't looking too good, but I wasn't overly concerned because even if we didn't get clear skies, this was the Dolomites. There would be photos a plenty to be had even in the worst weather. I wasn't wrong.
Tofana and Lagazoi || Olympus 9 mm, f/8, 1/200 s, ISO 200
Day 1 - Lago Misurina, d'Antorno and Rifugio Auronzo
One of the other participants picked me up early on the Tuesday morning and we headed off down to the meeting point at Lago Misurina, a popular lake nestled among the mountains with Punta Sorapis providing a dramatic backdrop to the essentially deserted hotel at the lake's head. The overcast weather on this first visit of the week to Misurina didn't really invite photos of the larger landscape, but there were plenty of mini-scenes waiting for our cameras.
Reeds at Misurina || Olympus 86 mm, f/5.6, 1/320 s, ISO 200
Several hours after we arrived, the rest of the group appeared and after working out where to leave the remaining cars for the week, we headed up to the more intimate Lago d'Antorno before driving up the toll road to Rifugio Auronzo. We'd parked at Auronzo many times over the years, but this was the first time I'd spend the night here.
Solitary Feather || Olympus 100 mm, f/8, 1/30 s, ISO 200
After a general round of introductions, our instructors informed us what we could expect from the week ahead and I was excited to catch some new perspectives of places that were very familiar to me, as well as taking in a couple of new locations. It was interesting to learn that only a couple of us had any experience at all at taking nocturnal images - most were complete novices.
Cima Cadin della Neve || Olympus 100 mm, f/8, 1/30 s, ISO 200
Our first evening saw us hiking a trail southwards towards Monte Compardelle below the imposing Cima Cadin della Neve to capture some evening shots. Golden hour gave way to the blue hour without much fanfare as the cloud cover was simply too thick for most shots. I quickly rediscovered my aversion for shooting photos in a huddle. Whilst everyone else seemed to be preoccupied with Cadin, I turned around and focussed on the Tre Cime, seeing them from an angle I had never had before. Shooting in the blue hour isn't always easy as the way the eye perceives light and the way the camera perceives light aren't always the same. I find that the best photos occur around the time where I think it's too dark for photography; I noticed this when I was shooting from the Kranzberg with Matthias back in May and the same happened here. This is pretty much the last shot I took before giving up for the evening. The lights are those of Rifugio Auronzo, our beacon for the route back.
Tre Cime and Rifugio Auronzo || Olympus 20 mm, f/8, 1/2 s, ISO 200
Day 2 - Auronzo to Locatelli and Back
If anything, the forecast for day 2 was worse than day 1. After breakfast we headed off on the well-trodden route to Rifugio Locatelli (a.k.a. the Dreizinnenhütte) via Forcella Lavaredo. We wanted to be out and back in good time since thunderstorms were predicted for the afternoon, conditions that we really didn't want to be caught out in.
Chapel on the way to Forcella Lavaredo || Olympus 400 mm, f/6.3, 1/1000 s, ISO 200
It was strange being out in territory that I was very familiar with in the context of a bunch of strangers. I was able to demonstrate my local knowledge by introducing one of the guides to a tunnel affording a view of the Tre Cime that he hadn't previously been aware of. In return we became privy to a great panorama spot for taking shots of the Tre Cime together with Locatelli and Monte Paterno, a shot which one of the workshop leaders had previously immortalised with his image Magic Dolomites. Even if we didn't have the best weather, at least I know now exactly where to head to in order to capture something similar one day when the conditions allow it.
Dolomite Poppies || Olympus 12 mm, f/11, 1/200 s, ISO 200
The weather was so poor that evening that we didn't even venture out for the non-existent sunset. Stefan promised that he'd check the cloud cover at regular intervals during the night and wake us if anything promising came up - a really great service! There was a brief break in the clouds around midnight, but only a couple of people dared the elements to catch a glimpse of the stars between the clouds, but that was all it was.
Locatelli alle Tre Chime || Olympus f/8, 1/250 s, ISO 200
Day 3 - Auronzo to Scoiatolli and the Cinque Torri
There's a song from my childhood titled "Hello Muddah, hello Fadduh." The text describes a fictional letter home from a child who's been sent away to camp for the summer, complaining about the weather, the other kids, and generally begging to be allowed to come home on promise of best behaviour. The letter closes with an update that the weather has taken a sudden swing for the better and implores Muddah and Fadduh to disregard the rest of the letter. So it was with day 3. We awoke to mist clinging to the mountains and clearing skies. We were of course all out on the balcony overlooking the valley and Cima Cadin della Neve before breakfast, snapping away. I even had a chance to sneak in a time-lapse of the fog fingers creeping through the peaks.
Mist Time Lapse
Misty Mountain Hop || Olympus 100 mm, f/8, 1/100 s, ISO 64
Sun Breaking Through || Olympus 100 mm, f/8, 1/60 s, ISO 64
As the Mist Lifts... || Olympus 16 mm, f/9, 1/80 s, ISO 64
Rifugio Auronzo || Olympus 9 mm, f/16, 1/100 s, ISO 200
The prospect of better weather changed the mood of the whole group and we were suddenly cautiously optimistic about the prospect of getting some astrophotography in that night. Stopping at the lakes d'Antorno and Misurina on the way down to re-capture some of the images of day 1 in better conditions, we finally headed off to Cinque Torri.
D'Antorno Revisited || Olympus 15 mm, f/8, 1/160 s, ISO 200
Dolomite Reflections || Olympus 100 mm, f/8, 1/250 s, ISO 200
Lago Misurina || Olympus 100 mm, f/10, 2 s, ISO 200
The car park at the bottom of the chair lift up to the Rifugio Scoiatolli was full to overflowing, but we managed to squeeze the minibuses into a gap on the access road. Before heading up the mountain, our guides took us to the tiny Lago Bain de Dones, an otherwise fairly non-descript woodland lake that afforded some beautiful reflections of the Tofana range opposite us. The excessive rainfall of the previous 24 h had rendered the water extremely muddy and flooded the path at the lake's edge, forcing us to detour through the undergrowth. Maybe under better conditions the lake would have been a worthwhile photo op, but I wasn't able to get anything decent out of it.
Tofana || Olympus 10 mm, f/8, 1/200 s, ISO 200
Given the state of the car park, it was no surprise to find the restaurant at the Rifugio heaving with people. The hut itself is absolutely beautiful and a very welcome change to the more functional Auronzo hut. The food, too, was exceptional, meaning that we will very definitely be back here some time in the future. We spent the afternoon shooting the cr@p out of the eponymous Five Towers and scouting the area below the hut for suitable spots for capturing the Milky Way that night. We still weren't 100% certain of the cloud levels; Clear Outside was still indicating a 15% chance of high cloud (or was it low cloud?) - hardly surprising given the previous day's weather. Even as the sun was setting, there were still clouds on the horizon.
Big Skies over Croda da Lago || Olympus 10 mm, f/8, 1/200 s, ISO 200
Broody Skies || Olympus 86 mm, f/8, 1/13 s, ISO 200
Our mood over dinner was on the exuberant side. Finally we were going to have a crack at taking some astro images. I've never sat at a table in a mountain hut in the evening with so little alcohol being consumed. We were all being exceedingly abstemious, bearing in mind the need to stay awake and alert into the wee hours, or at least we were until one of our party spotted an extremely rare bottle of red wine on the wine list that he had to share with the group. I don't think I've ever drunk a wine with a list price closer to three figures than two, and it was very nice, but not something I'd ever think about buying for myself.
Cinque Torri and Rifugio Scoiatolli || Olympus Panorama, f/2.8, 6 s, ISO 800
After dinner, we headed out to the various spots that we'd scouted earlier in the day. When Sharon and I had passed by a closed Scoiatolli in autumn a couple of years ago, we had the impression that it stood on a cliff-edge. This couldn't be further from the truth. Below the Rifugio there's a warren of WW I trenches and hideouts. Most of the others had scouted a spot lower down the slopes, giving them a panorama shot with the Cinque Torri centre picture. My spot was significantly higher up with the Cinque Torri framing the left hand side of the picture, followed by the beautiful ridges of Croda da Lago and the peaks of Nuvolau and Averau because this composition had a much more personal connection to me.
Scoiatolli and Nuvolau || Olympus 12 mm, f/3.4, 240 s, ISO 800
I don't think I necessarily got the better composition, but I got some astro shots that I was pleased with, both with the tracker* and without. My single image (above) was taken with the tracker, the panorama (below) without due to time constraints. We only had around half an hour or so to shoot the Milky Way before the core dipped below the horizon. Three rows of 10 photos for the panorama at 30 s each meant a total of 15 min of exposure. Had I used the tracker, it would have taken me upwards of 2 h to catch the same data, not to mention taking a further set of foreground pictures without the tracker for still shots of the mountains.
*A (star) tracker is a device that allows photographers to take long photos of the stars without having the points degrade into lines due to the earth's rotation. Normally the limit for an exposure before star-trailing occurs is (500 / focal length) s - approximately 30 s with my m43 8 mm lens. In order to get anything worthwhile, I have to increase the ISO setting on the camera to 6400, resulting in a lot of excess noise in the images. With the star tracker I can shoot for 4 min at ISO 800, resulting in a much more pleasing image with significantly more colour and less noise.
Milky Way over Cinque Torri || Olympus 8 mm, f/2.8, 25 s, ISO 6400
As I reached the end of my 30-shot panorama, the clouds started rolling in and it was time to head back to the Rifugio, but not before taking a couple of last snaps of the Great Tower.
Cinque Torri by Night || Olympus 12 mm, f/3.3, 10 s, ISO 6400
Day 4 Scoiatolli to Passo Rolle
The night was short. At 4:30 am we were up again to shoot the dawn over the Towers. The sickle moon put in an appearance over the Great Tower as the first colour became visible in the sky.
New Moon in the Dolomites || Olympus 12 mm, f/8, 1 s, ISO 200
Then it was off to attempt to capture sun stars and flowers. At least that was the brief. I stopped off at a suitable looking patch of Adenostyles (yes, I did have to look that up) to wait for the sun to rise. As it happened, I was spot on with my positioning to catch the sun rising between the towers. In the end, I preferred this shot of the warm sun's rays coming through the gap rather than the sun star shot itself.
A New Day Dawns || Olympus 10 mm, f/16, 1/100 s, ISO 1600
Just One More... || Olympus Panorama, f/8, 1/160 s, ISO 200
After a hearty buffet breakfast back at the hut, we headed to the chairlift to carry on with out tour of the eastern Dolomites. Our goal for day four was a mountain lake above Passo Rolle in the south-eastern corner of the range. We spent a rather fruitless evening looking for more flowers to feature as foreground for the dominating peaks of Cima della Vezzana. Unfortunately all of the suitable species were over at this time of year. Clouds were also passing through, making shots of the pinnacles above us very elusive as well. The clouds put paid to any attempts at another evening of astrophotography and we arrived back at our accommodation a little dejected.
Day 5 Passo Rolle to Brunico via Lago Carezza
After a lazy breakfast we all piled back into the minibus for an arduous drive up and down the passes all the way to the northern edge of the Dolomites via Lago Carezza and Bozen, followed by short trips to Lago di Braies and the stone pyramids at Platten. It was a long day that tried all of our patience with closed roads, misleading directions, late lunches (I don't do well with low blood sugar!), complicated light and everything in between. Had we not all gotten on so well I think day 5 would have broken us as a group, but we survived the mixed bag that day 5 presented us with and ended the day having pizza (first time of the week) in a restaurant that we had pretty much to ourselves in a village just round the corner from the farmhouse that we stay at.
Lago Carezza was interesting, full of influenzas taking selfies and the usual tourists. In contrast to scarce flora at Passo Rolle, the rosebay willow herb was still out in force at the lake. The tips of the Diamantiditurm were engulfed in cloud, but the pink flowers contrasting against the turquoise water of the lake were irresistible.
Lago Carezza || Olympus 16 mm, f/8, 1/80 s, ISO 200
After a late lunch in Niederdorf the road to Lago di Braies was open. We arrived just as the rain started, but this actually enhanced the charm of the lake as well as chasing off all the tourists. The boats are so photogenic here, particularly with the beautiful blue waters. The dull light made long exposures easy to set up, smoothing out the lake surface.
Rowboats at Braies || Olympus 9 mm, f/8, 5 s, ISO 200
Lago di Braies || Olympus 9 mm, f/8, 5 s, ISO 200
Before heading back to the farm, we detoured up to the earth pyramids of Platten, an interesting rock formation revealed overnight by a flash flood in 1882.
The Platten Pyramids || Olympus 25 mm, f/8, 1/40 s, ISO 200
Day 6 Lago di Braies to Lago Misurina
On our last day, we were up again for dawn at Lago di Braies. My photos in the rain from the previous afternoon had much better colour than anything from this morning session. Having waited in vain for some dawn light we headed back to Brunico to pack and grab some breakfast before returning to Misurina to pick up the cars.
Conclusions
One of my photo-goals for 2021 was shooting a Milky Way panorama that I was happy with. I'd managed to get good arches both on the Kranzberg and at Raisting, but wasn't happy with the results because of the light pollution. Bagging shots that I am happy with at Cinque Torri made the whole trip worthwhile in my estimation.
We had a good week with mixed weather. It was no-one's fault that we only got one evening of astrophotography during the six days. The company was very welcome and I hope that we will be able to keep in touch with the other participants. I might have wished for a bit more instruction and feedback from our workshop leaders, but I still picked up some new tricks and discovered some interesting new spots to shoot from in better conditions. Would certainly do it again.
So I've been playing about a bit with PhotoPills recently, a really geeky photographer's planning App. There's a steep learning curve, but once you've got the gist of it, it's really quite useful, particularly for sun/moon-set/rise shots and astrophotograpy. I'm not a huge fan of shooting the full moon - it can be a bit bland because the crater shadows are so short (like shooting terrestrially at noon), but if the moon is positioned well, it can still give usable results.
Full Moon and Kloster Andechs | Olympus 400 mm, f/6.3. 1/2 s ± 2 stops, ISO 400
Back in June I already tried shooting the full moon rising behind Kloster Andechs, a local landmark. Unfortunately I got my planning slightly off, meaning that the moon was much further south of the monastery than I'd envisioned, it was a day past full moon due to cloud cover the night before and despite having clear skies at home, there was a cloud bank low on the horizon to the east, obscuring the view and it was quite dark.
Obscured by Clouds | Olympus 123 mm, f/5.7. 60 s, ISO 400
Back home I went over the PhotoPills planning again and found out what my problem was. There are a number of variables that have to be entered; position of the subject, position of the photographer, time, etc. The App determines the distance between the two as well as the elevation distance and you can then select the precise time at which the moon will be at the correct elevation and work out the optimal place to stand in order to fine-tune the position to shoot from. It turned out that I'd taken the elevation into account and then used the wrong line in the map - the one
Come July and the full moon fell on a Friday again, always good for a late shoot, plus moonrise was 8 minutes after sunset, meaning that there would still be a significant amount of ambient light to shoot with; it wouldn't just be a bright moon against a dark background (🥱). Back in PhotoPills I realised that I'd forgotten all the steps necessary to plan the shoot, so it was back to their helpful YouTube tutorial for a quick refresher.
Subject to be photographed
Standpoint to shoot from
Second panel of Planner
Altitude difference standpoint ⇾ subject
Dial in Moon height using time slider (8)
Line indicating direction of moonrise
Line indicating direction of moon at selected time
Time slider (magnified view).
Slide the time slider back and forth to give the correct elevation to match the altitude difference (4) and then reposition the standpoint pin (2) to position the moon direction line (7). Simples!
Getting into position about a half-hour ahead of time we discovered that the place on the lake shore that we'd worked out in the App was obscured by 2 m high reeds and so we backtracked 150 m north to just outside the Wasserwacht by the Pavillion at Utting. Waiting for the moon to appear we scanned around us for other motives. The sky colours were getting really pretty and pastelly at this stage and so I whipped out the smartphone for this grab. Actually one of my favourite of the evening in the end.
Pastel Tones | Huawei P30 Pro Smartphone
Moonrise came and went and we didn't see anything. Check the App. Oh yes, we have to wait for it to rise sufficiently to be seen behind the 173 m higher horizon to the east. I'd figured that into the planning, but I'd been looking at the moonrise time rather then the time that I'd dialled into PhotoPills. Bang on 21:33 we saw a red-pink glow on the horizon north of the monastery. Our move to a clearer spot had pushed the moon further north than I'd hoped for.
Ah, There She Is! | Olympus 150 mm, f/5.7. 1/3 s, ISO 400
Starting with the moon 'upstream' of the monastery was much better than downstream, however, since it could only move into constellation and not out of to start with. It was now a waiting game, waiting for the moon to come into a good position, adjusting the tripod position every now and then to make sure the reflection of the moon's light was unobstructed - it would have been messy to have it interrupted by the boats or jetty at this stage. Avoiding this meant repositioning the tripod every five minutes or so.
Moon and Andechs | Olympus 138 mm, f/5.7. 1/2 s, ISO 400
With as spectacle like this, we weren't the only 'togs out of course. Not sure whether this chap was a planner or an opportunist staying at the local campsite. I always go out of my way and exchange a few friendly words with anyone out shooting. I seem to get two types of reaction; folks are either really ultra friendly and chatty or they give the impression that you're treading on their toes, poaching their photos. It isn't a competition and generally we can only learn from each other. I'm always happy to promote other's photos on social media too if I see merit that deserves sharing. We need to be building each other up, not tearing each other down.
Photographer's Paradise | Olympus 169 mm, f/5.8. 0.8 s ± 2 stops, ISO 400
As we watched the moon rise, we could see the transition in colour from red to orange to yellow. Just like the sun, the more atmosphere the light reflecting from the sun has to travel through, the redder it appears as the shorter wavelengths of light get bounced off into space. Now we could zoom in with the Olympus f/5.6 100-400 to catch a couple of full frame images. Believe it or not, I've toned down the saturation of the moon here as it looked simply too artificial.
Moon and Andechs: Exposure Blend | Olympus 400 mm, f/6.3. 0.8 s ± 2 stops, ISO 400
As the distance between moon and monastery increased, so the size of the two elements in the picture as I had to zoom out as well as the contrast in brightness as dusk slowly arrived. Our work here was done. Almost. Sharon actually spotted this composition of the light playing on the water next to the jetty. And with that we were done.
Moonglow Reflected | Olympus 400 mm, f/6.3. 1 s, ISO 400
Do you have a subject that you'd like to shoot at full moon some time? Want some help planning exactly when and where to stand to take that shot instead of using trial and error? Drop me a line and we'll see if we can set you up.
