The Steppes of Sonoma

Country roads wind amidst February meadows,
yellow mustard blossoms carpet the green,
rolling hills as far as the eye can see,
with vineyards and farmhouses dotting the scene.

Such is the magic of the Sonoma county as it turns a new leaf in spring.

Reading the tragic news about the wildfire ravaging through Napa and Sonoma valleys, leading to unprejudiced destruction of forests and communities alike harkened me back to a time when I was driving through this beautiful countryside after it had put on its spring coat. I can't imagine what it would be like to live through such a calamitous event that affected the lives of many.

I hope that this pastoral landscape and the thriving community that got affected recover quickly. You can do your part by donating to those affected by the fire https://www.gofundme.com/napa-sonoma-fires or http://www.sonomacf.org/sonoma-county-resilience-fund/

Petulama
CA USA

A Forest visit

In the silence, I could hear every twig on my feet, every rustle on the leaf, every squawk by a squirrel, every flutter by a bird, and every beam of sunlight that scintillated through the trees. I stopped, hoping to capture silence, while a minute passed by, and then a few more. I lost track of time as I stood in awe of the dense forest with its mossy green trunks and lush vegetation covering every square inch all around.

It was a late morning in the heart of Olympics National Park, and I was making my way through a temperate rain-forest that is ubiquitous in the eastern lowlands of the park. The yellow sunlight (courtesy of a forest-fire somewhere) lent a warm quality to the green vegetation, making the foliage appear ever so photogenic. I scouted around for a few choice compositions, but the heavy pack and the fact that others in my group were waiting for me to catch up meant that I had to be quick about it. I finally lined up one composition with the sunlight peering through the trees for a starburst effect, which I captured at ISO 3200, 1/5s at F18

Olympic National Park
WA USA

Last light in Titcomb Basin

When I crossed the final set of boulders and crested the saddle on the trail, the entire basin opened up, and I knew at once that what I was seeing was special. A rocky treeless basin that was seemingly endless, filled with two long glistening blue alpine lakes, and lined by jagged peaks on either side, greeted my eyes. The photos that I had seen of this hidden backpacking destination were nothing compared to the splendor of soaking in this beautiful scene

It had been a cloudy second day deep within the Wind River range, a glacier-scoured rugged mountain range in the western Wyoming. The freezing rains and cloudy weather had sucked away from the photogenicity of the wilderness, and I was slowly losing my patience. But that evening, my patience was rewarded, as a break in the clouds resulted in the pinnacles catching one last breath of orange light during the last minutes of the day.

I wish I had been better prepared with a suitable foreground, but as a photographer knows, light doesn't wait for anyone. So I composed this one shot that captured the beautiful alpen glow and the last light on the clouds in the Titcomb basin of Bridger-Teton Wilderness. This was captured at F11 at 1/4s and ISO 200

Titcomb Basin
WY USA

In Memory

I could write a paragraph on the beauty of the Dolomites scene I was photographing, or a discourse into the challenges I faced in reaching this point in the heart of the mountains, but words escape me at this point.

It has been a difficult month for the nation. Between the devastating weather systems that ravaged Puerto Rico and the Caribbean and ripping apart the islands' infrastructure, and the shootings in Las Vegas that had taken away 59 innocent lives and injuring countless more, it has been through a lot.

While scores of lives have been (and continue to be) affected, it is the lack of a cohesive response to any of these crises that continues to alarm me. It is either too difficult or too early or too late to talk about the underlying issues that resulted in a solvable calamity turning into a crisis.

Strong leadership is something that is certainly amiss in these difficult times, as what the nation has is a talking egotistical pumpkin-head (apologies to the pumpkins) that cares more about popularity than problem-solving, and lacks the basic empathic skills that one would think is required to lead.

In memory of those who have been affected by crises all over the world....

Lagazuoi
Cortina Italy

Glaciated Blues

My visions for the Canadian Rockies comprised of grand glacial-blue lakes guarded by towering snow-capped peaks lined by massive glaciers, and a layer of evergreen forest carpeting the landscape below. And from the air, it most certainly looked like that. However, it was not until I explored the various lakes nestled deep within the glaciated valleys that I got to realize those visions.

Perhaps the most characteristic of these lakes is the Moraine Lake, set in one such valley just south of Lake Louise. From the shore, the look looked unremarkable, similar to the other lakes in the area. But after climbing up to get the aerial perspective, I got to see the true colors of the landscape it was surrounded by, with the grey skies enhancing the muted colors of the scene.

Despite the throngs of crowds visiting that lake, I still had felt solace and a sense of belonging to this beautiful naturescape. The craggy peaks, the vast carpet of green surrounding the azure blue lake, and the fresh scent of mountain air rejuvenated my senses, and I, for one, was better for it.

This was shot with a graduated ND filter at F/11 and 1/200s at ISO 800

Moraine Lake
AB Canada

Inhospitable Morocco

The winds were relentless and the trail had disappeared into scree, but the views were just endless

I was hiking high above the Dades river valley, deep within the Atlas mountain range, the spine of Morocco. I had started out huffing and puffing in the warm late afternoon sun, but a few hundred feet up, the cold gusts of winds from the snow-capped peaks absorbed all my surface moisture, chilling me to the bone. But the views were just getting better, and that prodded me on.

And finally, the vista of the beautiful Dades river valley finally opened up. Tiny fields lay beside a meandering river, with red brick houses of a small village scattered along the steep slopes of the canyon the river had cut through. In the distance, the river disappeared through a narrow gorge it cut downstream on its way to the Atlantic, while the backdrop of a long line of snow-capped peaks reminded me that winter was not yet over in this high desert.

This is one exposure from that vista point, shot at 1/500s at ISO 800 at F11.

Dades Gorge
Morocco

Kirkjufellafoss

By the time I clambered over the mossy wet rocks beside the waterfall, it was already bathed in the beautiful golden light of sunrise. In the distance, the distinguishable shape of Kirkjufell towered above the smooth glaciated landscape, while in front of me, the water in the creek continued on its journey, starting from the green grassy slopes above the falls, and winding through a moss-lined sand-bar before ending up in the small inlet by the peak. I was transfixed by the beauty and silence of the scene, interrupted only by the frequent clicks as a dozen cameras were trying to capture the indelible nature of this scene.

While there is no doubt that Iceland is remarkably beautiful, the Snaefellness peninsula has more than its fair share of photogenic attractions; so much so that this region draws far more tourists from Reykjavik that many other parts of Iceland. And in my two days there, when I shot this particular scene, it was easy to see why.

And after having missed the sunset (which was socked in by the clouds), I had a strong urge to shoot the sunrise from near Grundarfjordur, which I had specifically chosen for its proximity to Kirkufell, aka the Church mountain due to the sharp similarity to a Christian place of worship. This complex scene required mergin 3 exposures shot at F11 and ISO 400

Kirkjufell
Iceland

The Desert Life

It was but a mere few shoots of rabbitbrush poking through the dry sands of Monument Valley. And while it was still a rocky desert early in September, that dawn, where I came across this brush thriving in the parched landscape, was still freezing cold.

I had paid a visit to Monument Valley a few years back, hoping to capture some of the magic of the wild West. But instead, what I came across were magnificent landscapes sculpted by the wind and the sand, with towering buttes constructed of red sandstone rising hundreds of feet from the rolling terrain below.

During this trip, a sunrise tour deep into the heart of this Navajo monument brought me face to face with some of its famous rocky denizens waiting to catch the morning light. After capturing the first rays of sunlight peeking through the sandstone buttes, I shifted over to the untouched sand-dunes, wherein I spotted these groups of rabbitbrush not just surviving, but thriving in this harsh landscape. The edge-lit sand-dunes provided the perfect foreground for this memorable scene, which I captured at ISO 1600, at F11 at 1/250s exposure.

Monument Valley Tribal Monument
AZ USA

Awaiting Sunrise

Two years ago, a beautiful sunrise found me atop a forlorn mountain. Besides me, a weathered wooden statue of Jesus on a cross stood steadfast, having braved the stormy elements that would have battered this windswept ridge through multiple seasons and multiple generations. And right now, it awaited the warming rays of golden sunlight this beautiful morning.

The sun was beginning to rise from behind the peaks yonder, drenching the dark mountainscape with light. And with that light, the landscape slowly morphed through multiple shades, from deep crimson to red to orange and then a golden yellow at present. As the light intensity increased, so did my perception of the tumultuous landscape all around: jagged ridges, towering cliffs, and deep valleys still in shadow, while the patchy clouds still changing through shades of orange provided a definition to the sky above.

Such is the beauty of witnessing a spectacular sunrise on the Dolomites. It can be a transformative experience, and I, for one, was glad I could capture this scene. This was a HDR shot at ISO 800 at F11

Monte Lagazuoi
Cortina d'Ampezzo Italy

Of Barren Landscapes...

Exactly a year ago to the date, I was captivated by the breathtaking moonscape that was speeding by the window as my car hurtled along desolate landscape in the northern regions of Iceland. The smooth blue tarmac of the Ring road cut through a range of old glaciated peaks that were but mere bumps on a map, but in reality seemed a lot higher. The sweeping curves of this highway that stretched for miles ahead, formed the singular imprint of humancivilization in this forlorn and bleak surroundings, where even vegetation struggled to grow on the loose volcanic soil. I struggled to capture the essence of its beauty, and this image, shot at F9, ISO 800 at 1/200s with a telephoto lens, only barely manages.

I will never forget the sheer sense of isolation I perceived in the landscape there (barring the dozens of other tourists passing by every minute), with my mind constantly wondering about how so much diversity existing in this one single island. Iceland brought about new surprises with every turn of the road or the trail, and each moment renewed the sense of excitement I was experiencing. Whether it was being awestruck by the Northern Lights, mesmerized by the shifting fog in the landscape, hypnotized by the sheer size of Dettifoss (waterfall), or even lost in this desolate landscape, Iceland was perhaps one of the most adventurous outdoor destinations I had been in.

Here is my 1-year tribute to this amazing island.

Myvatn
Iceland