All shots in Manual mode.; Nikon D740, 24-`120 f/4 lens, Manual modes, f/16, ISO 400. Light reading from the sky away from the sun and exposure locked. No filters.
Some camera news this week: Nikon finally released their full frame mirrorless camera. Two models: the Z7 which packs 47 MP, shoots nine frames a second and the Z6 which weighs in with 24 MP and shoots 12 frames a second.
Photo courtesy of Nikon USA. The Z6 with its companionn 24-70 mm lens and an F mount adaptor rings up at 2,746 dollars. The Z7 with the same package comes in at a hefty 4,176 dollars. Both packages come with battery and charger. The big box cameras stores like B and H Photo Video in New York are now taking pre-orders if you are so inclined. Full specs on both cameras at Nikon USA. Thanks for the visit and the look. Happy shooting. See you next time.
These three shots were all taken within the span of about a minute. There isn’t much time to waste when shooting at sunrise. The light changes very quickly so it’s important to have some idea beforehand of what you are after in terms of composition and framing. At the moment of sunrise, I was on the beach to grab a few shots of the sun coming through the clouds over the ocean. In television, we called them establishing shots. I then moved back from the water’s edge to a position behind some sand fences for a couple of additional views then retreated behind this particular dune. I had chosen it because it had a nice crop of sea oats growing on the top of it. I used pretty much the same routine moving down the beach toward’s Land’s End. Some views like the three shots above, required little movement at all, just a zoom with the 24-120 mm lens. By the time I called it a morning about half hour later, I had more than 90 quality shots. I love just roaming around with the camera and snapping away at whatever moves me, but aging is the mother of invention. With arthritic knees, I have to think ahead of what I want and the quickest way to get it. The luxury of walking several miles on the beach is a distant memory. As Clint Eastwood said in the classic western, “Unforgiven”, “We all got it coming kid.” Thanks for the look. Have a good week ahead. See you next time.
The sky was like a character in Joseph Heller’s classic novel “Catch 22”. It seemed to know the difference between the makings of a pretty day and one that was just plain ugly but was trapped in the middle. A front had floated across the coast during the night and at daybreak, things looked very iffy.
As I trudged westward along the dune line (a reminder that the Bogue Banks is pretty much situated East-West) the sky began to brighten and it became rather obvious that the clouds were all merging into one huge, magnificent cloud that was teasing the rooftops of the oceanfront “cottages.”
A platoon of pickup trucks with over-sized tires and front bumpers fitted with cylinders loaded with huge salt water fishing rigs, came roaring up the beach; a half dozen anglers jumped out and staked their claim on the beach by pounding their rod holders into the sand.
The big cloud began to darken to an ominous shade of indigo and I felt the first sprinkles of rain. I grabbed one of the giant sized freezer bags out of my bag and zipped up my camera and lens and headed back to my truck. By the time I was back on the beach road home, the downpour came. The day had indeed turned ugly. Thanks for the look. See you next time. .
The forecast was good, partly sunny with only a very slight chance of rain. It wasn’t to be. The wisps of fog began showing up on the highway when I was about 25 miles from home. When I got to the tiny town of Maysville a short time later, the fog was getting serious. I thought about turning back, but overhead, I could see the first quarter moon moving in and out of the clouds. Besides, I figured, while I had ventured out on many a foggy morning back on the farm and gotten some decent shots, I could not remember shooting in the fog while on the beach. Suffice to say, I wasn’t disappointed.
At first light, I saw the first quarter moon and I started to think that maybe, the fog would clear off revealing a decent day, but less than 5 minutes later, the fog had gobbled up the moon. Below, was the scene at sunrise.
Any hope of a glorious sunrise on the beach was dashed. I decided to see what i could do with some shots of the barrier dunes and that’s when I discovered I wasn’t alone on the beach.
I rather liked the shot and immediately thought of a title, “Solitary Refinement.” As the morning wore on, the sky began to brighten and I worked on a few artistic views of the dune grass. This was my favorite of the morning:
The light was coming on fast and by 9:30 the shadows were begging to wane. I decided to head to Beaufort 16 miles up the coast to grab some shots along the Front Street Docks. By the time I arrived, it was a gorgeous day. I’ll post some of those views next time. See you then. Have a great weekend and a good week ahead.
It was a cloudless, no drama day with a high sky and bright sun, but I figured I would drive to the oceanfront anyway, thinking that perhaps I could grab some arty close ups of the wind’s artistry in the sand. It had been windy on the coast most of the week since the last Nor’easter ; they come with seeming increased regularity now, and I hoped to find some interesting patterns along and behind the dunes. I wasn’t disappointed.
I lingered after taking the shot with my eye focusing just below the clump of sea grass to the right. It looked like some miniature Zen garden.
After processing the raw files back home, I uploaded the shot above to my web site and immediately sold two prints. I also got an email asking if I had taken a larger view of the scene. I had. I uploaded that photograph and it sold right away to one of the buyers of the closeup shot. She wanted to display both together. Lesson learned! Always hang on to the larger view of a cropped scene. You never know. Thanks for looking and have a good week ahead. See you next time.
Another Nor’ester has plowed up the Atlantic Seaboard and while North Carolina largely avoided scenes like that in the Boston suburbs of the ocean breaching seawalls and flooding homes and businesses, all along the Atlantic coast, the storm claimed millions of cubic yards of sand. A quick visit to the Bogue Banks of North Carolina quickly confirmed the beach erosion.
Further north, along the southern Outer Banks, North Carolina Highway 12 was again temporarily closed due to ocean overwash. All along the coast, sand fences were erected to hang onto what was left.
A shot of the vital dune line at Emerald Isle, North Carolina is a vivid reminder of what’s at stake.
Since 1979, the minimum oceanfront setback requirement for permanent structures in North Carolina is 30 times either the historical long-term erosion rate or two feet per year, whichever is larger. It’s measured from the seaward line of stable dune vegetation. That’s why when you visit the beach, you’ll see signs posted every one hundred feet or so up and down the coast that read, “Stay Off The Dunes.” Thanks for your visit. See you next time.
Generalizations are always iffy but I would venture a guess that most of us who venture out every day with our cameras in hopes of nailing that perfect shot have at least a sliver of of environmental angst lurking in our souls. And perhaps what draws us to the photographs we make is the fragility of the scene and how even the seemingly innocuous act of just walking along the top of a barrier dune can start to undo what has taken nature years to accomplish.
I was out one morning before sunrise on the coast recently when a woman walking her dog struck up a conversation with me. We talked about the endless beauty of what we were seeing. The conversation quickly circled to the now hot issue of drilling for oil off the Carolina beaches. She asked if that concerned me? I thought a moment, admittedly considering whether I wanted to give up a few precious moments of the soon to be sunrise to wallow into conversational quicksand. I decided to answer her this way. “I was in Santa Barbara, California during the big oil spill decades ago and since that experience, every time I go into the voting booth, it is with but two issues on my mind: the environment and my own economic interest. If there is a conflict,” I said, “I always try to put the environment first,” which I added, “is all too often the collateral damage of human enterprise.”
“Nicely said,” she grinned and walked into the sunrise which was just coming up over the horizon.
Thanks for the visit and have a great week ahead. See you next time.