Treebeard lives!

Forests are a bitch. To shoot in, that is.

Ask just about any landscape photographer, and they'll tell you the same thing. Finding good compositions among the dense forest is just plain tough. (I touched on this in a previous photoblog post when I was shooting in the Hoh Rainforest in Olympic National Park.)

The rainforest of St. Croix is certainly no exception. I've spent years trudging through many different parts of it, and never have found a composition I liked. Being in the Caribbean, it's a jumbled mass that often requires a machete to progress through. It reminds me of that famous line from Predator where Jesse Ventura says, "This sh*t makes Cambodia look like Kansas".

But, that all changed recently when a good friend took me on a jungle excursion he often does for fun. I thought I'd seen it all, but he proved me wrong. (Something that's all too easy to do.)

I came across a tree that is quite honestly the most spiritual, majestic and human tree I've ever seen -- it literally had a face. It was straight outta Lord of the Rings -- Treebeard would've wept! The feeling it gave me can only be described as "humble". I can't wait to visit it again.

I worked hard at creating the "feeling" of the tree's spirit in the image below -- I hope you can feel it, too. Please be sure and check out the LARGE VERSION so you can see the detail in the scene.

Before I go, I'd like to give a shout out to Crazy Joe Hazi for taking me on his excellent "Slow Down Jungle Tour". And, as always, thanks to all of you for your continued readership. Now, get out there and hug a tree! ^_^

The Tree God (Large version HERE.)

Me and my little feathered friend.

After living in the US Virgin Islands for twelve consecutive winters, I've learned a few things: Bugs are everywhere. Rum is divine. Tourists are clueless. (Most of them, anyway.)

Surprisingly, between the beach, bugs and booze, I've actually managed to learn a few useful things, too. Like how to sail a boat. Or, how to open a beer bottle -- any beer bottle (even the non-twist-off kind) -- with the flick of a lighter. Or, in the true survivalist spirit, how to hack open a coconut with a machete in a jiffy.

I've also filled my brain with a lot of interesting things: Columbus landed here on his second voyage in 1493. When the sun sets on a clear day, it often produces a green flash. Everyone should see bio-luminescence at least once in their life. (It's mind-blowing!)

Then, of course, there's the sad stuff: Third-world poverty is no joke. Corrupt politicians can really screw things up. Hurricanes are forces to be reckoned with.

Along the lines of that last category, I have seen first hand what development can do to indigenous wildlife. Before settlers arrived, the US Virgin Islands were home to a diverse population of tropical birds. Then, Europeans introduced the mongoose to the islands to eradicate rats. Big mistake. The mongooses, being day-hunters, largely ignored the nocturnal rats and instead feasted on the unprepared birds. Before long, the islands' once robust bird population was decimated. (Nice move, Europeans! Mongooses: 1. Settlers: 0.)

Due to our forefathers' blunder, it is a rare treat to be able to see an indigenous island bird species in the wild today. Enter the Green-throated Carib. For some reason, this pretty hummingbird has beaten the odds, and can be seen here and there around the islands. However, getting a good photo of one is no easy task. Being a hummingbird, the Green-throated Carib is extremely fast. We're talking lightening speed -- now you see it, now you don't.

For years, I've fantasized about being able to photograph one of the little buggers in a way that's truly artistic. Not just a quick snapshot of one on a fence. Something truly pleasing to the eye.

Last month, I finally got my wish.

I was out shooting on Cottengarden Point, on the eastern tip of the island, when out of nowhere popped a Green-throated Carib. I watched him for awhile and noticed that he kept coming back to a specific flower on a certain cactus. The sun was starting to set and the light was golden and beautiful, so I decided to take a chance, set up my cumbersome long lens rig and train it right on the flower.

I knew it was a long shot. What were the chances that the lil' guy would come back yet again to that specific flower? And, even if he did, how likely was I to manage to catch him when he was in just the right spot in the frame with his wings positioned correctly, et cetera?

Well, maybe I should visit Vegas soon because I hit the jackpot! Within ten minutes, my little feathered friend returned right on cue. He lingered for about a minute and then he was gone and did not return. Didn't matter. I had what I came for. My wish had been granted!

That about does it for this entry. As always, thanks for reading and be SURE to view the LARGE VERSION. And happy Leap Day! ^_^

A Sweet Sip (large version HERE)

Thanks, Mom!

I love Mother, and I'm not talking about my mom. Although, yes, I love her, too. (Whaddaya think I am?)

No, I'm talking about Mother Advertising, one of the trendiest, most well-respected advertising agencies in the world. They have offices in London, New York and Buenos Aires, and are the agency of record for some of the world's biggest brands including Coca-Cola, Ikea, Stella Artois and many others. They produce some of the most clever, catchiest and flat-out best ads in both print and television, including Superbowl commercials complete with celebrity appearances. In short: they are a big deal.

So, you can imagine my elation when I landed a photography assignment for Mother New York last November. I travelled to Phoenix, Arizona to shoot the Target GoTube in it's inaugural deployment.

The GoTube is a genius idea courtesy of the brilliant creative minds at Mother New York. Basically, it's a mini-Target store that sells a limited number of items tailored specifically to the event at hand. In this case, the event was the 2011 Arizona Balloon Classic. As such, the Go-Tube had things like binoculars, lawn chairs, neck pillows -- all things that one would need at a hot air balloon festival. Sweetening the deal was the fact that the items were at regular Target prices, as opposed to the normally high prices found at festivals these days. And, you could even return the items later to any Target store if needed. Pretty clever, indeed.

For me, the best part of all was working with the Mother staff. They are at the top of their game and it was a genuine pleasure working with people who really know what they're doing. They were very happy with the work I did, and hinted at the possibility of future projects together. I'm keeping my fingers crossed.

Be sure to check out the official announcement of the GoTube project on Mother New York's website by clicking RIGHT HERE. (Because these images were shot on assignment, they are technically the property of Mother New York and thus can't be found in my website's Fine Art Galleries as per usual.)

Well, that's all for this month. As always, thanks for reading. And give your mom a hug! ^_^

Oh, Canada!

"GET A LIFE, KORY!"

If that's what's going through your head when you notice that I'm writing this blog post on New Year's Eve, then you're not alone, because I happen to be thinking the same damn thing. Therefore, I'm going to keep this short. Celebration and champagne beckons, and I never keep a good bubbly waiting.

My trip to Canada was as awesome as it was cold. And, since it was double-digits below zero, I shouldn't have to tell you that I had one hell of a good time up there. The pristine beauty of world-class Banff National Park in the midst of a frigid winter wonderland was truly something to behold. The cherry on top was the complete and utter lack of crowds. We had the whole place to ourselves! Well, except for the herd of Big Horn Sheep that insisted on licking the salt off of my car, but they were adorable and never once asked me what kind of camera I use.

We camped several nights right next to a shelter that had a wood stove in it. When the day's work was done, we filled that sucker full of wood, got a blazing fire going, and had a great time sipping whiskey and gazing up at the stars, as you can see in the photo below. About fifty yards away from the shelter was a bathroom that was actually open and functional. In the middle of nowhere. In the middle of winter. In the middle of the night. Only in Canada.

Toward the end of the trip, Marc and I had the honor of meeting famed Canadian photographer Darwin Wiggett. Like just about every other landscape photographer in existence, I've been a fan of Darwin's work for many years, so finally getting to meet him was a real thrill. Accompanying him was his soulmate and fellow photographer Samantha Chrysanthou. They joined Marc and I for an afternoon of shooting followed by dinner, drinks and good times at a local tavern. They're both the sweetest people, and Darwin proved to be quite the character as I had long suspected. I can't wait to see them again someday.

Before I go, remember last time how I mentioned that one of my blog posts got picked up for publication? Well, it's been published on Nature Photographers Online Magazine and you can read it RIGHT HERE.

Well, that about does it for this blog post and for 2011 as a whole. As always, thanks for reading. And, Happy New Year to you and yours! ^_^

Majestic Mount Rundle (large version HERE)

Frigid and Frosty Morning (large version HERE)

Warm and Cozy

Hangin' With The Locals

My hero(s)!

Time for some positivity!

After last month's somewhat depressing blog post, in which I describe the trials and tribulations a landscape photographer often endures trying to get a hero image, I thought it would be nice to get back to normal and show you my most recent hero images. So, drop everything, clear your schedule, call all of your friends over, make some popcorn, fasten your seatbelt, and prepare to be utterly amazed. Or, you could just read on. I'll get over it someday.

This first image is, ironically, from the very same trip that produced the gut-wrenching incident on the sand dunes described in last month's blog post. I created it in the Pawnee National Grassland in northeastern Colorado.

Over the years, I had driven right by the Pawnee National Grassland countless times and never thought much of it. Imagine my surprise, then, when I finally decided to check it out and was completely blown away. (There's more of that "irony" stuff for you.)

Even though it's called a "grassland" there is much more to it than just grass, although there is, of course, grass aplenty. Much of the area is covered with large, dramatic cliffs and buttes. Impressive vistas abound at every turn. Within 45 minutes of arrival, the great beauty and splendor of the place had me grinning from ear to ear.

I made this image in a distant, little-traveled part of the grassland. The vibrant fall colors combined with the exquisite light of the setting sun made this one a no-brainer.

As I began hiking back to my car in the dark, coyotes -- lots of coyotes -- began howling en masse. My pulse quickened and my mind began to work overtime. I started worrying a bit too much about coyotes and mountain lions fancying me for dinner. I should've been calmed by the knowledge that surely no self-respecting coyote or mountain lion could possibly have such poor taste, but I was not.

All in all, I spent a half day in a place I'd never been to, without scouting it ahead of time, and came away with a hero image. To top it off, it was only about an hour away from my base of operations in Fort Collins, Colorado. It turned out to be far and away the best image from my entire trip to Colorado, and it took the least amount of effort.

Do I even have to point out the irony there?

Sunset Over Coyote Country (large version HERE)

This next image has a special place in my heart, which is really saying something considering how shriveled and black the thing is.

The subject is obvious: it's skyline of downtown Minneapolis, the glorious city I call home. What's not so obvious is the amount of time it took me to find this particular spot.

For over a decade, I looked for a spot just like this. One that overlooks the skyline, unobstructed, with cars zooming into and out of the city that I could use to make long-exposure lines which would lead the eye into the frame. Eventually, I gave up. If the spot doesn't exist, it doesn't exist.

Then, about six weeks ago, I found it.

I was elated beyond words. The second I saw it, I just knew it was the spot I had been looking for. All that was left was to wait for a day with a good sunset, then get there and make it happen.

On November 4th, that day came.

With the sunset looking promising, I fought rush hour traffic and made it to the spot just in time. I set up my tripod, composed my shot and readied myself. I knew the shot was going to be a knockout as long as the clouds cooperated and lit up with sunset color.

When the moment arrived, I started tripping the shutter... and got what I wanted within five minutes. I couldn't believe it: after a decade of searching, I had the shot! Even after finding the spot, I never dreamed things would happen so fast and that, a scant two weeks later, I would have the image of Minneapolis that I always dreamed of making. Damn, more irony!

So, I suppose you'd like to know exactly where that spot is. No problem, get something to write with. You ready? Here goes: it's at the corner of "Get A Map" and "F*ck Off". (Sorry, but whenever the chance presents itself I just have to quote lines from The Hangover.)

Seriously, though, you didn't think I was actually going to tell you, did you? Maybe in another ten years...

Bustling Metropolis (large version HERE)

Before I go, you may like to know that the aforementioned depressing blog post from last month got picked up for publication and will appear in the December issue of Nature Photographer's Online Magazine. Looks like even bad experiences can have silver linings.

Lastly, I leave on Saturday for a week in Banff National Park in the Canadian Rockies. My friend and master landscape photographer Marc Adamus will be joining me. Shooting in the field with him is always rewarding, so I am quite excited! I should have the images from the trip ready within a month.

That's all for now. As always, thanks for reading and take care! ^_^

Holding Out For A Hero

Hero images.

That's the term many photographers use to label their very best images. The ones that really stand out. The true keepers.

So, by entitling this blog post "Holding Out For A Hero", I'm not referring that that cheesy song from Footloose. I'm talking about the extreme lengths photographers -- especially landscape and nature photographers -- go to make an image that they're truly happy with. A hero image.

Ansel Adams, the most famous landscape photographer in history, once famously quipped, "Twelve significant photographs in any one year is a good crop". Think about tremendous, crushing the weight of that statement. Here is a man who took tens of thousands of pictures a year and only figured he made a hero image once a month at best!

Why is it so tough, then, for landscape and nature photographers to get hero images? Because we have literally no control over the most important aspect of photography: the light. Which really is to say the weather, because the weather is what controls the light.

Case in point: two weeks ago, I returned to Great Sand Dunes National Park determined to get the image that eluded me on my previous trip earlier this summer. Upon arrival, I was disappointed to see that once again the sky was completely cloudless and therefore boring for photography purposes.

The weather reports said that clouds would be rolling in later in the week, so I figured I'd scout locations for the next several days in preparation for the dynamic weather to come. I made the grueling 3.5-mile hike to Star Dune, the most massive and tallest dune in North America. Once atop, I cracked a smile as I found a very compelling composition that would work perfectly later in the week.

Three long days later, with the clouds appearing on schedule, I labored to the top of Star Dune again, this time with a 40-pound pack in much colder, semi-rainy weather. It was one of the more tiring hikes I've ever done.

But, it was all going to be worth it! I just knew how it would play out: once the sun started to set, its golden, late-day light would illuminate the dunes and clouds in a breathtaking display that would make grown men weep. All my hard work and days of waiting would pay off in spades.

The sky was thick with dynamic clouds as desired, but, thankfully, right above western horizon there was a horizontal sliver of clear sky -- just enough for the sun to poke through for a few precious minutes before it set. That would be all I needed. I was in position and ready to rock. Bring it on!!

As the moment of truth neared, electric nervousness coursed through me -- I had so much riding on the success of this one image. Then, finally, after what seemed like forever, it happened. The sun's rays burst upon the scene like a supernova. They hit the westernmost dunes first, then slowly crawled across the rest of the dune sea. I was beyond ecstatic, literally yelling "F*CK YEAH!!" over and over. (Sorry, kids.) My face was stuck in a big perma-grin as I waited for the sunlight to light up the whole scene.

Then, something caught my eye that erased my smile faster than a dead kitten.

A cloud had moved in on one side of the open sliver of sky to the west. It was a small cloud -- a puny cloud -- but that tiny little sadistic clump of water vapor distressed me more than a loaded gun in my face. It was partially blocking the sun's rays just enough so that only part of my image was being lit up. If that evil cloud had been just a tad to the side -- literally, just a tad! -- things would've been ok. But, it was not.

As I watched in horror, the few-minute window of sunlight started to ebb, and the crushing realization that my image would not be illuminated in the way I'd hoped and all my work would be for naught gripped me like a brain freeze. There would be no hero image for me that day.

I stood there completely numb for several minutes in a state of disbelief and bitter disappointment. Then, I began uttering a few phrases that aren't appropriate for this blog.

During the long, dark and draining hike back to my car, I tried to put it in perspective. This was nothing new. What had happened to me has happened to countless photographers over the years (just ask well-known photographer Ian Plant), and would undoubtedly happen again. Welcome to the life of a landscape photographer!

And, the fact is, I did this to myself. No one made me take this trip. I could've just as easily stayed home and sat in the hot tub drinking beer. Besides, I still got to be immersed in nature for a week, and that's what it's all about. At least that's what I keep telling myself. ^_^

Lastly, there's always next time. And, I will be back. Be forewarned, dunes.

Before I go, I thought you'd like to see the image that almost was. As you can see, the sunlight never got where I wanted it. Imagine if that whole scene had been lit like the dunes in the foreground! For comparison, the second image was taken just minutes later, after the partial light show ended. Close, but no cigar.

Ansel Adams once said, "Landscape photography is the supreme test of the photographer -- and often the supreme disappointment".

He was right.

Making chicken salad out of chicken sh*t.

Last month, I once again journeyed to Great Sand Dunes National Park to photograph the amazing dunes. Being that the dunes roll on for almost 40 square miles, there were plenty of spots (read: almost all of them) that I hadn't been to. So, this time, I set out for the northeast corner, an area with not a single footprint to be found.

Once I finished the strenuous hike to the top, I began scouting for good compositions to use in the upcoming sunset. To my dismay, try as I might, I just couldn't find anything I liked. It was frustrating, because normally the dunes offer me something that more than tickles my fancy (like this, for example). This time, though... nothing. Welcome to the life of a landscape photographer: sometimes, that's just the way it goes. To make matters worse, the clouds were not cooperating at all and were completely absent from behind the Sangre de Cristo mountains where I wanted to make my image.

But, all was not lost! With a little help from Mother Nature, I was about to make lemonade outta lemons. (Thanks, Mom!)

As the sun started to set, I noticed in the distance that a bunch of people were hanging out at the top of High Dune, which is where 90% of those who actually make it to the top of the dunes go. Even better, a bank of clouds was billowing directly above them, and it was starting to coming alive with brilliant sunset hues. Turns out the dunes had something to offer after all.

Please be sure to view the large version, as it makes it easier to see the people atop High Dune. (Although admittedly they're still just dots -- a large print is really the best way to view this image. I posted a close up of the people below the image so that you can see the detail.)

That's all for now. Until next time, take care. And be nice to your mom! ^_^

High Atop The Dune Summit