Have you ever been having so much fun that you forget to make sure you are not missing any of your photographic gear?

Last week, after a full, productive day helping the Wilkes family where I could on the new home they are building, it was suggested that we visit a nearby battlefield to conclude the day on a entertaining and relaxing note. With a large section of PVC pipe for a canon and ten tired minds to run wild with imagination, it is an understatement to say we had fun.

But when we all began piling into the car to return home, checking to make sure we had everything, I realized the lens cap to my camera was gone! It was pitch black, and I almost didn’t mention the fact, knowing it would be rather impossible to find it, but with as much energy as ever, it was decided that the search must be conducted.

It took a lot of searching, but God allowed us to find it! Really, it was a miracle, considering all the places I had ran, crawled, and tumbled. But it was a good reminder to continue to be a good steward of the things God has allowed me to have!

Instead of taking the Interstate on my way from Ashville, North Carolina to Culpeper, Virginia, I decided to take the Blue Ridge Parkway a full 200 miles from the southern border of Virginia to Charlottsville, located in the north-central part of the state. The Parkway is not a National Park, but a National Scenic Byway, running along the east section of the Appalachian Mountains, connecting National Parks and Forests to create one of the most scenic drives in the United States.

The speed limit was 45mph, but that speed was impossible to keep winding up and down the mountains and along countless ridges and overlooks. But why should I keep it? The Parkway was meant for enjoying God’s creation, not getting from point A to point B. Including a three mile hike and stopping dozens of times to take pictures, it took me a total of 10 hours to travel all 200 miles.

The drive was overwhelmingly awe-inspiring. If you’re ever traveling through that area, and you have the time, it’s totally worth it!

Here’s another quiet place I had devotions. Though it was late in the morning and a difficult time to take good photos, I saw how the shadows could be advantageous to the composition, drawing the eye down the steps and onto the sunlit lake.

As of Monday, I’ve been attending the International CEF Conference in the Blue Ridge Mountains near Ashville, North Carolina. On my spare time, I’ve taken the time to hike around the beautiful Ridgecrest Conference Center property, complete with ball fields, hiking trails and breathtaking overlooks. Here is a photo from yesterday morning; a perfect spot for devotions.

I decided to wait just a little bit longer to see if the Tamias Sibiricus would return to it’s precarious banquet table.

After hiking down the trail for only a few minutes, I spotted this little Korean Chipmunk gnawing on a nut in a tree. Because I had my wide angle lens on the camera at the moment, I slowly tried to change the lens without scaring it away. In the minute that this process took, the chipmunk finished its meal and scurried away through the underbrush. Should I wait for it to come back? I had the telephoto lens ready now, so I decided to see if it had just gone for seconds.

Evidently this was so. Most of the time, it pays to wait!

Not too long ago, I read a photography tip from another nature photographer: learn to love bad weather. I wasn’t too sure about this, but I couldn’t help but think about this comment when I saw the weather forecast for last Saturday.

Saturday was going to be a relatively free day for a photoshoot, but thunderstorms were predicted for the entire 24 hour period. Should I really try putting this tip to the test?

I prepared myself as best as possible, and amidst a heavy mist, started biking toward the mountain that Adam and I had hiked to a few weeks ago. About half an hour later, the sky began to grow dark and bright lightning and rolling thunder signaled the approach of a downpour. It didn’t take me long to find a shelter to wait out the storm. But the wait wasn’t long either, and I was back on my way within a few minutes.

On a sunny day, the middle of the day is about the worst time to take pictures. But today, the heavy fog that shrouded the entire mountain, never lifted, and I was able to shoot until 2:00 in the afternoon when I simply had to return home.

The test had worked. This unique opportunity, the mother of a comparatively nice collection of images, was occasioned by the fact that I had embraced the concept that bad weather can be very good. And, surprisingly, it didn’t rain again until my return trip. Though I managed to find shelter under a bridge for part of that downpour, it didn’t really matter much because I was so close to home and my camera gear was snuggly packed away.

Bad weather is a good thing; the secret is being prepared for it. Bad weather is called “bad” for a reason: getting chilled is the beginning of a cold; wet camera gear is a step closer to getting acquainted with your local repair shop; lightning and flooding can create hazardous situations. But if you are cautious and thorough in your preparations, your bad weather excursions should actually turn out to be quite good.

Spring Overlook

Having spent this entire month in South Korea taking photography sorties on a regular basis, it was not easy to choose a pick from the sizeable archive. But I narrowed it down to this one because of the steps that led up to it’s creation.

It was late in the afternoon, and I was on my way up to the top of what I call Hill #1. It is the first of 5 big hills (or small mountains, whichever you would like to call them) that are just a 10 minute bike ride from the apartment. It had taken me a while to find the trail and park the bike, so I now only had a few minutes before I needed to head back home.

The hill was steep, but as soon as I reached the top, I was simply awed by the peaceful view that met my sight. Purple wildflowers in full bloom grew thickly beneath oriental pine trees, constituting a colorful foreground to sprawled city and distant mountain ranges. I took in the view for a few moments before pulling the camera out for some pictures.

I soon found that it was impossible to capture what I could see with my eyes. The sun was still too high in the sky to be shot directly into, but that was really the only way to shoot. As I contemplated the situation, an idea came to mind from something I had read the other day: to reduce glare when shooting into the sun, partially cover it up. So I tried it out. To be in a position where the pine tree would partially cover the sun required me to get off the overlook platform and stand on my tippy toes. But it worked! Instead of having the picturesque foreground silhouetted against the sky or ruined by lens flare, I was able to reduce the intensity of the sun just enough to achieve a more correctly exposed picture. And, I must add, I think it is a brilliant effect too.