As landscape photographers, we are all there – inspired to take a shot on many occasions and failed for one reason or another. The most frequent reason is that the weather did not play with the rules that were in our mind; However, sometimes this happens, and when it happens, it makes everyone meaningful. This is my story and to shoot a dream to stick to my guns about firmness.
Pine Island has been one of the places I have returned again and again on Dairyclare Laf in Konimara. Each journey at the end was an attempt to catch the image that I had imagined over the years, and each time, something would go wrong: too much air, bad lights, or just the conditions are not aligning. But I kept returning. I think it consider some of the most landscape photographers – the value in not giving up very easily. The situation changes continuously, and while the audies are rarely on your side, you only need a good morning to make all the efforts worth it.
During one-to-one workshop in early May, I returned to Konimara. We finished our first evening in Pine Island, and I could see that the forecast was coming together. The sky was clean, the water was calm, and the moon was almost full. After leaving my customer back to Gaulway, I decided to return to the place. Light from the moon burnt the scene enough for a shot, and reflected with and down with the surface of a mirror-flat lake and the stars that appeared above, it was very good to ignore. I didn’t have a sharp lens with me – just my normal 16–35 mm F/4-But I worked it.
I set the alarm at 6:00 am just 45 minutes before sunrise. Since I was living in a van at the place, it meant that I could check the situation immediately. When I opened the curtains, what I saw, he pushed me forward in a long time: flat calm water, morning mist, and no wind in sight. Another photographer had also arrived, and when we exchanged a quick namaste, I was not hanging around – I had a task to do.
Pine Island has many compositions. You can live along the edge, go to a higher level for height, or work on a stone ghat. I went straight to Jetty. This is where I have tried many times before, and I was no longer about changing the plans. I arrived about 35 minutes before sunrise and set the camera. The fog was growing, and was an unconscious purple artist in early lights. I felt that perhaps it was going to happen when it used to work.
While Prakash was excellent, one thing was missing: Badal. This meant that reflections were simple and clean, and there was no chance of clouds blocking sunrise. This also meant that the image could lack a little texture in the sky, but I was not going to complain.
The first some shots looked promising. The reflections were solid, the fog construction was, and the light was clean. I then launched the drone, to see how it looked from the wind. I captured some clips and a time-laps. While there was very little movement in the scene due to calm conditions, some light surface waves were caused by slight changes in air movement. Nevertheless, it was a good material. I also took an opportunity to shoot 11-shot panorama from the ground. It was ambitious, and although the camera was leveled, I suspect that the extremes may require little fixing in the post.
One thing about Pine Island is power lines. They cut the correct cut through the frame in many compositions, and I know that a lot of photographers remove them in post-processing. My decision was to leave them inside. I think it is important to show the scene as it is. If one travels after seeing an ideal, line-free image, they may be confused or disappointed. In addition, in this wide pan, lines tilt slightly due to lens deformation, making them difficult to remove from cleanliness anyway.
As the sun started growing, it started returning the mist. I swung to F/16 to try for a sunstar, and did it. I captured a frame peeping through trees, a strong sunstar, golden mist and perfect reflection. This was the best version of the scene I have ever managed. It also killed me that some trees were damaged by winter storms. There is no guarantee that they will always be there. I was happy that I did not wait for another year.
I missed a conversation with Thomas Heton and Neil Arthurs since last year. We were at this place discussing various angles. Tom suggested that the best composition could be from the distance of the island. I joked at the time that it could be a great angle – if you had cool water, mist and golden light. Which, as it turned out, was there then. So I decided to give it a try.
I captured some standard shots and a small three-frame pano from that side. And to be fair, it worked well. The reflections were strong, and the trees were holding light from behind. Whether it is a better creation, subjective. Personally, I still lend to stone jetty, but Tom’s suggestion definitely has merit.
The light was still good, so I sent the drone again. This time, with the sun being high, the reflections looked even stronger. The edge and mountain lines almost completely reflected each other. This was an unusual level of symmetry that I had not seen earlier from this place. From the wind, all this was just clicked.
This whole morning strengthened a simple but important idea: perseverance matters. If I had stopped going to this place after the third or fourth unsuccessful attempt, I would not have had this image anymore. Landscape photography often involves deciding without any guarantee that the conditions will be correct. There is nothing that you can do to force it, but you can just increase your opportunities to show.
If there is someone here, it is: keep trying. If you have a place that you have been working for years, do not get it out of the list soon. Keep looking at the weather, keep changing, and be ready. Eventually, the conditions will come. And when they do, all those previous unsuccessful efforts will mean the final shot.
Thanks for reading. You can see the last images from that morning in full-way video, which is now live on my YouTube channel.
Let me know what you think in the comments.
