Creative Nature Photography

All life on Earth is dependent on water for survival, so the arid regions of our planet are the most difficult areas for life to exist in, and just finding wildlife – let alone photographing it – can be extremely difficult.

On the other hand, arid regions such as deserts can be wonderful places for photographing landscapes where the scenery changes colour before your eyes at both ends of the day as the sun rises and sets. Once the sun is high in the sky and the heat has increased, most animals seek shelter and the subtle colours of the landscape become washed out, so photography at this time is best avoided. In this chapter I have included the most obvious arid habitats of both sand and rock deserts, as well as environments that can have strong seasonal rains but dry up completely at other times of the year. From a photographic point of view, they both require similar approaches.

NAMIB DESERT
Fuji 6x17 panoramic camera, 105mm lens, f16 @ around 1 sec, Fuji Velvia film, ISO 50
Namibia

The first image depicts what most of us would consider to be the ultimate arid environment – the desert. There are different types of desert, but great sweeps of dunes disappearing into the horizon provide the classic desert image. The Namib Desert in Namibia has the highest dunes in the world, and I took this picture in beautiful low light at the end of the day. During the heat of the day the sand looked a rather boring beige colour, which turned more orange in the late afternoon. As the sun set, however, the whole scene took on a more reddish hue and the harsh shadows became much softer. We were travelling through this area over a rough sandy track, and our four-wheel drive vehicle got stuck. Against my better judgement, I had been persuaded by a farmer friend that his greater experience of driving such vehicles meant that he should drive, so I was not impressed when we ground to a halt. It was late in the day and we still had a long way to go, but the truck could not be shifted. I therefore headed off to take the picture before the light disappeared completely. Fortunately, on getting back to the vehicle I found that a passing tourist travelling by foot had turned up. With me driving he helped to push us free of the sand and we made it back to camp.

For great sweeping landscapes like this I love the panoramic format, and in the days before digital I used a special medium-format panoramic camera to capture such images. Everything on it was manual – even the focusing had to be done on the basis of the depth of field marks on the lens. You had to use a specially made neutral-density filter to even the spread of light across the entire frame, and you only got four pictures to a roll of 120 film.

I have not used the camera since converting to digital because I can now take several images on a digital camera and stitch them together afterwards to create a panoramic image, which is far more convenient. An example of a digital panoramic is included in the chapter on polar regions, but you could easily make the picture shown here using this technique.

The silica sand dunes, shown opposite, in the south of New Mexico, USA, provide a unique habitat with its own special challenges for the photographer. The first thing you notice about them is that they are not the normal ‘sandy’ colour, but completely white. The sand ripples are perfect for making strong graphic images, since they can be used to lead the viewer’s eye into the distance. Although we visited the area in November, bright blue sunny skies were the order of the day, and this produced conditions that were of a very high contrast, something that would not be conducive to good images. As mentioned earlier, dawn and dusk are the best times for photography, and this picture caught the last of the sun’s rays.

GYPSUM SAND DUNES
Canon EOS 1n, 20mm lens, exposure unrecorded, Fuji Velvia film, ISO 50
New Mexico, USA

The most photographed landscapes on Earth are surely in the great national parks of the south-western deserts in the USA. Grand Canyon, Bryce Canyon, Monument Valley, Zion and Arches all have an amazing array of landscapes just waiting to be captured. The trouble is that they have already been photographed time and time again by so many photographers. If you let this put you off, though, you would never go anywhere, and these places are popular for a good reason – they are incredibly photogenic.

Although you normally associate heat with deserts, this whole region is high desert, some areas of Bryce being over 10,000 feet above sea level, which can result in very cold weather at times, especially in winter. We arrived at Bryce in the evening in clear conditions, but on opening our cabin door before dawn the next morning we were very surprised to find that it had been snowing heavily – so much so that our car was completely covered and looked like a giant snowball. After brushing off much of the snow, we eventually found the door and made our way very slowly towards the park in extremely slippery conditions. Did I mention it was mid-June?

BRYCE CANYON AND SNOWSTORM
Fuji 6x17 panoramic camera, 105mm lens, f16 @ around 1/4th sec, Fuji Velvia film, ISO 50
Utah, USA

By the time we reached the first viewpoint the sun was already up, but the snow-covered landscape in front of us looked wonderful. The best spot was down a large number of icy steps. We gingerly made our way to the bottom, using the tripod legs to break away the ice from the worst sections. Having reached the bottom, it became clear that a storm was approaching because the sky was gradually turning black as the clouds rolled in towards us. The sensible thing to do in these circumstances would have been to take a number of pictures on my 35mm camera, which would have been quick and easy. However, the scene before us cried out for a panoramic.

It takes a while to set up and work out the exposure for a manual panoramic, and I did so with the black sky looking more and more ominous. By the time I had exposed the second roll of film the show was over. The wind suddenly got up and the storm hit. I turned my back to the wind and removed the camera from the tripod, placing it under my parka to protect it as much as possible. This was just as well because the tripod then blew over. We gathered up the rest of the gear and made the slow climb back up the frozen steps. It was a relief to finally reach the shelter of the car without losing any equipment or falling over. The picture is one of my favourites of the incredibly beautiful landscape that is Bryce Canyon.

Unlike the dune systems of the sandy deserts, the high deserts are composed of sandstone rather than sand. This is a relatively soft material, and when the sun is low it glows as it reflects the soft warm light, with the rocks turning a riot of yellows, oranges and reds. The following image of balanced rock, in Arches National Park, could not demonstrate this better. It had been a rare cloudy day in the park and I was struggling for pictures, but as dusk approached a small gap appeared in the clouds along the western horizon. Because this was where the sun was going to set, I set up my Fuji panoramic in the hope that the sun might peep through before it set. I wanted to incorporate the two large rock formations on either side of the balanced rock itself, so unless I included lots and lots of boring sky, the panoramic format was the obvious choice. We waited for a long time in dull flat light; suddenly, without warning, the rocks lit up as the dying rays of the sun finally dropped below the cloud.

The colour was stunning, the deepest red I have ever seen in the region. I had to work rapidly because these effects are only fleeting, and quickly took a meter reading with my 35mm camera, using this as a guide to set the manual exposure on the panoramic. I remember to this day that it was a very long six-second exposure, and that by the time I took the last of the four frames on the roll of film, the light had gone. There had not even been time to put the 35mm camera on the tripod for some back-up shots of the incredible light.

BALANCED ROCK
Fuji 6x17 panoramic camera, 105mm lens, 6 sec @ f16, Fuji Velvia film, ISO 50
Utah, USA

The deep canyons of the high deserts can provide dramatic backlighting that can be used to create some interesting images. The Grand Canyon runs roughly east-west, so at sunrise and sunset the light streams along the canyon. When shooting with the light behind you, the warm light of the low sun produces the deep colours seen in the previous images. When shooting against the light, along the length of the canyon, you get a completely different effect, and the image takes on a bluish hue. This was the case one morning when I visited the desert view area of the canyon.

The shot below was not immediately obvious because it formed just a small part of the huge landscape before me, but I was drawn to the numerous overlapping ridges in the distance. I therefore set up with a long zoom lens and concentrated on this area. Using a long lens not only enabled me to isolate the elements I wanted in the picture, but also had the effect of compressive perspective, so that the ridges appear much closer to each other than they really are. The result is a very different image of the muchphotographed Grand Canyon.

GRAND CANYON
Canon EOS 1n, 100-400mm lens, exposure unrecorded, Fuji Velvia film, ISO 50
Arizona, USA

Zion National Park is different from most of the other canyon country parks. Instead of being on top of the canyon looking down, you drive through the canyon’s bottom with much of the surrounding scenery towering above you. Zion is less bare than the other sites, and has many pine trees and shrubs growing in the lower areas by the road. It is these features that can be used to produce images that are a little different from the standard ones. You need to utilize your telephoto lens to make the most of the situation, and be on site just after dawn. As the sun rises slowly above the canyon rim, it catches anything standing upright in the canyon, but the steeper west-facing rock that forms the canyon wall remains in shadow. This contrast can be exploited to make very pleasing pictures, as shown in the example of back-lit conifers on the right.

To make images like this you have to move fast, because the interesting light does not last for long, disappearing quickly as the sun rises higher in the sky. Exposure is also difficult, since it is easy to blow out the highlights in this situation, especially if you rely on your camera’s meter, which will almost certainly get it wrong. With digital, a quick check of the histogram after the first exposure enables you to identify any overexposed areas and adjust your settings accordingly. The other problem when shooting against the light is flare caused by the sun shining directly into the camera lens. To overcome this a lens hood is essential, but I often use my hand or a paper to provide additional shade for the lens when the sun is particularly low. Needless to say, you must check the viewfinder carefully to make sure that your hand or the paper does not obscure the picture.

BACK-LIT CONIFERS
Canon EOS 1n, 100-400mm lens, exposure unrecorded, Fuji Velvia film, ISO 50
Utah, USA

The back-lit image of Zion Canyon on the next page takes things to the extreme, in more ways than one. While driving around the bottom of the canyon in the early morning, I noticed that as the sun just clipped the canyon rim, any plants growing on it were lit up dramatically, as though a searchlight had been turned on them. There were several problems to be overcome in photographing this scene, not least the distance of the potential subject. Due to the large size of the canyon, its rim was a long way off. Fortunately I had my 500mm wildlife lens with me. I set this up on the tripod with a 2x converter attached, giving a 1,000mm focal length.

The next problem was potentially the most serious one. Due to the extremely strong light, I felt a little uneasy about looking directly into the sun through the very long lens. The canyon rim light is very fleeting indeed and is over in a few seconds, but it is predictable once you have found a spot on the rim where the sun is about to rise over the lip. As the first rays lit the top of the plant I had selected as my subject, I pointed the camera quickly at it and composed the image before the sun rose any further, stopping the lens down manually so as to reduce the effects of the sun on my eyes. Once I had planned the composition, I removed my eye from the viewfinder and started making exposures – lots of exposures. The sun was very bright indeed and I did not want to overexpose the whole scene, although I realized that the highlights would blow anyway unless the rest of the picture was completely black. To give myself the best chance of getting it right, I used the camera meter’s exposure and auto bracketed two stops either side of this, in one-stop increments. I cannot remember exactly what the exposure was, but it was pretty extreme, stopping down to f16 (effectively f32 with the 2x converter) and shooting in thousandths of seconds. When I had the slides developed, I found that the last few on the roll were completely blown out, but the camera and – most importantly – my eyes were not damaged by the encounter.

CANYON RIM LIGHT
Canon EOS 1n, 500mm lens + 2x converter, exposure unrecorded, Fuji Velvia film, ISO 50
Utah, USA

The starkness of the desert environment has so far been a feature of this chapter, and this theme can be represented in the most unlikely details that the photographer can seek out with a practised eye. I am always on the lookout for patterns in nature, and thought a dried-up lake bed in the Namib Desert would make an interesting, rather abstract image. The lake bed had dried up relatively recently, and the cracked mud left behind retained its structure. There seemed to be two levels of cracks – every large mud piece was separated by quite wide cracks, and each of the separate pieces had much smaller cracks in them. The picture opposite works not only because of the patterns and the abstract nature of the shot, but also because it leaves no doubt that this isolated detail could only have come from an arid environment.

DRIED LAKE BED
Canon EOS 1n, 28-135mm lens, exposure unrecorded, Fuji Velvia film, ISO 50
Namibia

SAGUARO CACTI (Carnegia gigantea)
Canon EOS 1n, 300mm lens, exposure unrecorded, Fuji Velvia film, ISO 50
Arizona, USA

Of the plants associated with the desert environment, cacti must be the best known. They can survive in the driest of environments, and are found in suitable places in the Americas. The biggest is the Saguaro Cactus, which can grow to more than 15 metres high and live for well over 100 years. These magnificent plants are common in southern Arizona, and while photographing them I was struck by the slight halo effect produced when they were back-lit against the low sun. This was caused by the light catching their rather soft downy spines, which let through some of the light, with the main body of the cacti blocking the light completely. The effect was only visible when the cacti were viewed against a dark background. Fortunately the location was hilly, and using a long lens I was able to compose my shot against the hillside and omit the sky from the picture altogether.

As I moved the lens around looking for a suitable composition, I noticed that the more out of focus a cactus was, the greater the halo effect became. Intrigued by this, I experimented by throwing the whole scene out of focus, and eventually created the rather ghostly image of these desert giants that you see in the second picture. Some nature photographers are not comfortable with this type of ‘arty’ image, feeling that such pictures have no place in ‘nature photography’. Personally, I do not subscribe to this view and am always looking for new and interesting ways to portray the natural world. I love creating straightforward, beautiful images from the world around me, but also get a real sense of satisfaction from creating an image that uses nature as a starting point, with my own creativity added to the end product.

The Quiver Tree is a large desert plant that grows in the most arid regions of southern Africa. Despite its name it is a not a tree at all, but a member of the aloe family of succulents that can grow to more than 6 metres high. It has a very distinctive shape, and it is this aspect of its appearance that makes it look good in a silhouette. One of the difficulties of working in a desert environment is that it tends to be very sunny, with few if any clouds around. Good sunsets are dependent on the presence of some cloud which, when lit by the last rays of the sun as it drops below the horizon, are turned to the pink, red and orange colours that create the perfect sunset backdrops.

Determined to make the most of my Quiver Tree silhouette plan, as dusk approached I searched around for a suitable composition. There were lots of Quiver Trees around, and as is usual in this type of situation, they tended to get in each other’s way. I was after stark silhouettes, so it was particularly important for there to be space between them in the picture. I could have chosen to isolate just a single plant, but thought this would make a much less interesting picture than would a small group. Eventually, I found the grouping you can see in the picture overleaf. I positioned myself so that the western horizon was behind the trees, because this was where the sun would go down. The trees were all leaning slightly to the right, so when framing the shot I left more space on the right than the left, giving a more balanced composition.

Even with no clouds, as the sun disappears the western horizon often glows orange for a short while. It is this narrow band of colour that I used as my backdrop. As mentioned, the choice of lens and distance from the subject was crucial to ensure that the orange band was as large as possible in the picture. A long lens used further away would achieve this, but to make the most of the colour I needed to be as high as possible, in order to shoot slightly down towards the horizon. The terrain was pretty flat, but I did manage to find a large rock on which the tripod could be placed and set up at its maximum height. Even though I am tall I could not see through the viewfinder, so had to manoeuvre a nearby rock into place to stand on to make the final adjustments.

SAGUARO CACTI (Carnegia gigantea)
Canon EOS 1n, 300mm lens, exposure unrecorded, Fuji Velvia film, ISO 50
Arizona, USA

QUIVER TREE (Aloe dichotoma)
Canon EOS 1n, 100-400mm lens, exposure unrecorded, Fuji Velvia film, ISO 50
Namibia

So far the plants discussed have been large species that can conserve enough water to survive as permanent structures in the arid regions of the Earth. There are many much smaller and more delicate species that exist on the very edge of survival in these areas, growing, blooming and dying in a short season, sometimes only once every few years. One such plant group is known as the ‘everlastings’ due to its characteristic paper-like flowers, which when dried and used in flower arranging keep their colour and form for a long time.

The plants are most common in the dry, desert-like regions of Western Australia, emerging from the sandy soils in the late winter months. This is not an annual occurrence, however, because the seeds from previous generations only bloom after there have been sufficient winter rains. When this happens, areas of previously featureless scrubby desert are transformed by carpets of flowers that are making the most of the opportunity to reproduce and set seed, before disappearing again prior to the arrival of spring, when the weather warms up and the land dries out completely.

We visited the region after heavy winter rains, and according to the locals the flowers were the best they had seen for at least ten years. The owners of the small roadhouse we stayed in, which was surrounded by flowers, had lived there for four years but had never seen a flower in the area before. Some of the flowers grew in loose groups, but they were most impressive when they formed dense mats that completely covered the ground. I wanted to reflect this density of blooms in a picture. However, because the flowers were quite small this necessitated getting quite close to those that would appear in the foreground. This would restrict the depth of field, but I could not use a small aperture to increase it because there was always a slight wind that was moving the delicate blooms around. The solution was to use a tilt and shift lens to ‘tilt’ the plane of focus across the tops of the flowers instead of in its normal vertical position. This enabled me to use a much wider aperture and in turn a faster shutter speed, preventing the appearance of any wind-blown movement in the flowers in the shot.

I was particularly taken with a little group of white everlastings on their comparatively tall and thin stems, the flowers reaching up towards the blue Australian sky. Although taller than many of the other species in the area, they were still only a few centimetres high and were thus tricky to isolate from their surroundings. To create the picture I had in mind required pretty much the opposite approach to that taken in the picture. That image required a high viewpoint and a long lens to emphasize the sky close to the horizon; this one needed a very low angle and a wide-angle lens to emphasize the blue sky and minimize the intrusion of the carpet of other flowers around the subject. I achieved this by using a 20mm wide-angle lens rested on the ground, and fitting a right-angled finder to the viewfinder so that I could actually see through the viewfinder as I pointed the camera slightly upwards. A polarising filter made the most of the blue sky and allowed the white blooms to stand out against it.

ROSY EVERLASTINGS (Rhodanthe chlorocephala rosea)
Canon EOS 1n, 90mm tilt and shift lens, 125th sec @ f8, Fuji Velvia film, ISO 50
Western Australia

WHITE EVERLASTINGS (Rhodanthe chlorocephala splendida)
Canon EOS 1n, 20mm lens, exposure unrecorded, Fuji Velvia film, ISO 50
Western Australia

Habitats without water contain few plants and insects, so there is little food for birds to live on. Because of this, bird species that have adapted to this environment are usually found at low density. Locating them in the often vast terrain can therefore be difficult. On the plus side, the openness of the habitat does make them relatively easy to see and photograph if you can get close enough.

Etosha National Park in Namibia is one of those locations where the climate changes dramatically during the year. In the wet season the park gets around 35 centimetres of rain, lakes fill up, insects become abundant and birds breed. In the dry season the whole area dries up and the wildlife struggles to survive until the next rains.

As you can see in this picture of Blue Cranes, any grass that had grown earlier in the year had completely dried up, and the three birds were foraging in it looking for something to eat. Photographing three birds together is always difficult when using a long telephoto, because the depth of field is rarely enough to keep all of them in focus. As the birds walked around in the grass, I followed them in my four-wheel drive vehicle. I kept some distance away and used a very long lens so as not to disturb them. At one spot they stopped and appeared to be feeding. I wanted to make sure their heads did not rise above the skyline, since this would have spoiled the picture. Fortunately there was a small mound close by, and I drove onto this to create a better shooting angle.

The birds continued to feed in the same area, constantly lowering their long necks to the ground. They spread out in front of me along a line parallel with the vehicle, until all three of them were equidistant from me and would thus all be in focus. It was at this point that the two outer birds lowered their necks in unison, the central bird staying upright. This produced the symmetry I was looking for and I took the shot.

The following bird image was taken on the steppes of Spain and shows a Great Bustard strutting across the arid landscape, calling out to ward off a rival male. Spring in the Extremadura region, where this picture was taken, can be very variable; like Western Australia, it is dependent on the amount of winter rainfall. When there is sufficient precipitation the steppe can be awash with colourful blooms, but when the rains fail the area remains dry and the plant life is dormant, having been scorched by the previous hot summer sun.

The muted tones of the dry vegetation make a nice clean background to the bird, which requires a special permit to photograph in Spain because it is a protected species. The terms of this permit require the photographer to enter and leave a specially constructed stone hide in darkness, so if you want to photograph the bird you have to be prepared to enter the hide before dawn and remain in it for the 15 hours before it gets dark in the evening. I chose the image shown opposite to demonstrate that arid conditions do not only exist in deserts, but can also occur seasonally in habitats that do not necessarily immediately spring to mind when considering the Earth’s dry places.

BLUE CRANES (Anthropoides paradisea)
Canon EOS 1v, 600mm lens + 1.4x converter, 1/1,000th sec @ f5.6, Fuji Sensia film, ISO 100
Namibia

GREAT BUSTARD (Otis tarda)
Canon EOS 1D Mark II, 500mm lens + 1.4x converter, 1/500th sec @ f5.6, digital ISO 200
Extremadura, Spain

The best arid region I have visited for mammals is undoubtedly Etosha National Park in Namibia, where I photographed the Blue Cranes discussed earlier. During the long dry season the park dries out under the hot tropical sun, and although there are a few hardy species about this is a very poor season for bird photography. It is, however, by far the best season for mammal photography, because the animals are forced together to drink at the few waterholes that are the only places left where life-giving water can still be found in the parched landscape. When the rains eventually come, the wildlife disperses throughout the park and is difficult to see and photograph. During the dry season herds of antelopes and Zebras jockey for position at waterholes, but they all give way when the African Elephants arrive. These largest of land mammals love water and call out loudly as they approach. They are common and easy to see at Etosha, and herds of more than 20 animals are seen regularly.

In the national park, you are not allowed to leave your vehicle (there are lions about, so this is probably a good idea), and all photography is done from the car. I would pull up at a suitable spot by a waterhole and set up the tripod, with a Wimberley head on it, outside the driver’s door. With the long lens set up on the Wimberley head this gave me maximum freedom of movement and stability, the use of the long lens resulting in the camera body being just inside the car window.

While most wildlife photography is best done towards either end of the day, waterhole photography is often at its peak around midday. This is because as the day heats up, the animals become more and more thirsty and start looking for somewhere to drink. It is not generally a good time for photography because of the strength and angle of the sun, but towards the end of the dry season in Etosha the atmosphere is very hazy, helping to reduce the harshness of the light. The first image of elephants, previous page, shows a small group approaching the waterhole, and captures the sense of urgency and excitement as these great beasts get close to the water.

The second picture of elephants could not be more of a contrast. A group of elephants stand close together, the trunk of a youngster wrapped around its mother’s leg as if to support it. It is extremely hot and the elephants stand completely still, not moving a muscle. They are close to a dried-up waterhole. The only moisture that remains is in the sticky white clay, and the elephants have covered themselves with it to keep cool. This is a common practice in the park and explains the frequent references to the ‘White Elephants of Etosha’. Standing so still and covered in clay, they look like giant porcelain figures glistening in the bright sunshine.

The elephants are some distance away, but I use the big lens to make a tightly cropped composition that is almost an abstract pattern. It is so hot in the car that I am stripped to the waist and have all the windows open to make the most of any slight breeze, but the elephants just stand still and take the heat of the sun, waiting for nightfall to give them some relief.

AFRICAN ELEPHANT (Loxodonta africana)
Canon EOS 1v, 600mm lens + 1.4x converter, 1/500th sec @ f8, Fuji Sensia film, ISO 100
Namibia

AFRICAN ELEPHANT (Loxodonta africana)
Canon EOS 1v, 600mm lens + 1.4x converter, 1/1,000th sec @ f8, Fuji Sensia film, ISO 100
Namibia

Small animals such as invertebrates are highly vulnerable to dry conditions because they tend to dry out very quickly. They generally appear at night, when it is much cooler than during daytime, which is not the easiest of times for photography. One group of animals that can tolerate the dry and hot conditions is the reptiles, and the rather fatbodied family of lizards known as the skinks can often be found basking by the sides of roads in the deserts of Western Australia. It is in the winter months, when the temperatures are much cooler than during summer, that they are most attracted to roads. This is because the asphalt absorbs and retains the heat, allowing the coldblooded lizards to warm up quickly. We saw a few dead ones that had been run over, so I am not sure if this practice is a good long-term survival strategy.

The typically broad skink body can be seen in this image of the Stump-tailed Skink, taken in the early afternoon. At this time of day reptiles are very active because they have fully warmed up. This one sort of snarled at me as I passed by him, and as he did so I noticed his amazing blue tongue. I had already photographed this species before, but only in its earlymorning torpid state, so I had never seen the tongue before. As I got closer to the skink, it would come towards me and open its mouth to threaten me, but this did not make for a good angle. I wanted to be close in with a wideangle lens, showing the lizard in profile, which would be a more interesting shot. I moved very slowly and settled down quietly, close to the ground, staying still until he ignored me, which did not take long. My wife then approached from the left. As she did so he immediately reacted by opening his mouth and poking out his blue tongue at her – and I got the shot I was after.

STUMP-TAILED SKINK (Tiliqua rugosa)
Canon EOS 1v, 24-85mm lens, exposure unrecorded, Fuji Velvia film, ISO 50
Western Australia