Landscape Photography in Yosemite Valley | Spring

I just spent a few days among the glorious redwoods, far from home at the northern edge of the state. We have a six hour drive in front of us, but that's no big deal, because I have a hard drive full of wonderful images that I'm looking forward to editing. Well, not exactly. At the moment I'm perhaps a bit frustrated. It seems like I was bouncing around from one location to another without much of a plan, maybe focused on the wrong things at Of course, it's not all that bad. The worst day of landscape photography is better than most. I shot a lot of video, although I've been struggling to figure out how on earth to piece it together. I suppose there's no reason to overthink it, and at this point I should jump to the first morning. It's been a couple of years since I've been here, and I'm excited to be back. It's the end of spring with summer just around the corner, and this is the time of year that rhododendrons typically bloom. The result is a wonderful visual dichotomy between the delicate pink flowers and the stately giants that tower over them. Conditions can change from year to year based on weather conditions, so it's never a sure bet, but after walking only 100 feet, it was clear that there were notes of pink everywhere I looked. Of course, there's one other element that draws photographers to these coastal forests. Fog. Fog is the secret ingredient that adds visual separation to what is otherwise an impressive but visually chaotic forest environment. It was also immediately obvious there was no fog. For now at least, I'd have to make do without. It's still early and direct sunlight has only just begun to find its way into the dark forest. Small details in the landscape are illuminated by narrow bands of light. As the sun moves behind the trees, points of light come and go more quickly than I can react. Larger openings in the forest are soon bathed in light and already feel blown out. It seems that the most obvious solution is to avoid the bright sky and use the large trees as a background. Time to move along. This is only my second trip to this area and I'm eager to do a bit of exploring. I knew from looking at satellite views that there was indeed a giant bank of fog along the coast. It was a question of what height the fog was at and whether or not it had pushed inland. The best way to know would be to go look, so I make my way down a trail in the direction of the ocean. It doesn't take long before I come around a bend and realize that I'm walking through light mist with denser fog hugging the terrain below. At this point I'm still mentally locked in on rhododendrons. There are far fewer at this lower elevation, but some flowers on the hillside below catch my attention. A bit of soft dappled light and vibrant color stands out from within a shrouded forest. As I move farther along, the compositions become less apparent, but ironically the light becomes more tantalizing. Beautiful rays of light cut through the forest and dance overhead. The moisture-laden air highlights scattered light as it breaks through openings in the dense forest canopy. At certain angles the radiant light grows more intense. Somewhere along the way I get it stuck in my head that I want to follow this trail all the way down to the ocean. I suspect I'm leaving the better photo opportunities behind as the redwoods get smaller and rhododendrons disappear, but I don't feel like I really know an area until I've seen it with my own eyes. Out of stubbornness as much as anything else I continue on. I never take the camera out, but enjoy moving through the forest with ethereal silhouettes in the fog and lush green ferns everywhere. I spend all of 30 seconds taking in a gloomy ocean vista before turning around and heading back uphill. A thousand feet of elevation gain later I'm closer to where I started. I notice that the fog has risen somewhat and is now drifting among the giant redwoods just below the ridge. I'm again drawn to a composition that involves a group of rhododendrons catching a beam of direct light within an otherwise dark and moody forest. In this case it feels more dramatic with larger surrounding trees, darker shadows, and more At some point I'm ready to call it a day and my wife and I are both eager to settle into camp and relax for a bit. I'm eager to get going. I've studied weather models and satellite images. I'm convinced that today the fog will be higher and make for wonderful conditions. Everywhere I look there will be vibrant rhododendrons with god rays shining down between towering redwoods. There will be unicorns and rainbows and maybe even a pot of gold at the end. At first it looked very much like I just might get my wish. The tops of the trees disappeared into a blanket of fog. As we drove up in elevation and got closer to the trailhead I just had to hope that the fog remained present. Uh-oh. All of a sudden it didn't look so good. Nothing. I'll hike in and go have a look but it was immediately and painfully obvious that there wasn't a trace of fog. It wasn't too long before I turned around. Plan B is to do a bit of exploring and see some other locations and state parks I've never been to. As we drive down a dirt road we're pleasantly surprised to find that some of the morning fog is still hanging out here. I'm of course instantly drawn to the beams of light filtering through the trees and we quickly pull over. Yet somehow I can't quite make this work and resign myself to the fact that good light by itself doesn't make an image. However I didn't have to walk far to find something else and became intrigued by some nearby trees with back lit moss covered branches. It's not long before the fog begins to recede but before moving on I find myself in the middle of the road capturing one more image. We moved on and spent the rest of the day getting better acquainted with the area. While enjoying some downtime by the ocean the fog seemed to mock me. There was certainly no shortage of it down here in Crescent City. Welcome to typical summer beach weather in northern California. The following morning we moved to yet another area. I was really hoping this wouldn't turn into a hiking video but the truth is that at this point in the trip I was doing more walking than photography. I was beginning to realize there was a lifetime of trails to experience. I had to start somewhere and began to choose trailheads somewhat at random. Oddly enough this one called rhododendron trail had very few rhododendrons. Nevertheless the surrounding forest was amazing and felt more primal and pristine than some of the other areas I had been to. In addition to the massive redwoods overhead the ground level sites are equally enchanting. I do eventually get the camera out and go through the motions but I struggle with the high contrast scene and in the back of my mind I know this is an image I'll likely abandon. Not too far away on the following morning I find myself on the side of the road. There's a bit of fog that helps soften everything. I'm not blown away by the resulting image but it was at this moment that I realized I had become way too obsessed with chasing rhododendrons and was missing out on much of what this landscape had to offer. In addition to lots of hiking we had fun taking the truck down some dirt roads. It certainly doesn't qualify as off-roading but it was nice to get it off pavement. Without knowing what sort of turnouts there were this is the sort of thing we would have never done with our old trailer. It's the middle of the day and conditions aren't exactly conducive to good photography but it's fun to stop along the road and hunt for some smaller scenes. Over the course of the trip I would keep revisiting the first area at various times of day hoping against hope for fog. It simply wasn't meant to be. Eventually it's time to head home. I realize I started this video on a somewhat negative note but I don't want it to end that way. The same exact moment in time can evoke very different feelings especially upon reflection. Sure there might have been some frustrations but mostly I had fun. Learn some lessons I can apply next time and will leave feeling that I have a better understanding of this landscape. I can't ask for any more and I can't wait to come back.