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!

Five Days Cinque Terre

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.

Landscape Calendar 2022

Image Selection for the 2022 Calendar

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

Cover Photo

Mike & Sharon's Top Five Dolomite Hikes

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