Rules of Photography

I’ve established some rules to help manage the overwhelming job I’ve given myself as a photographer of this area. Here are three of them.

First rule: I shoot 12 times a season. That’s 12 individual photographic sessions in Winter, Spring, Summer, and Fall. I make note of the date and place I “focused” on to keep track of my progress. This gives me plenty of raw material to grow my portfolio. I usually end up with about 5 “good” photos per season.

I’ve learned not to worry about results while I’m out there shooting. I’ve done enough photography to know if the getting is good, I get it. And when it’s not, I don’t. So, rather than focusing on outcomes, I focus on the effort: 12 sessions per season.

I frequently return to a quote that has made a difference in my work. Paraphrased and adapted from the Bhagavad Gita:

“We have only the right to our labor, not the fruits of our labor. All the warrior can give is his life; the outcome is out of his hands.”

Second rule: when fog is present, I take photos. Smoke in the air? Photos. These atmospheric conditions can make a real difference. Fog obscures the background of an image, turning an otherwise messy scene into something clean and simple. Smoke works well too — especially in black and white — and it has the added advantage of lasting all day. Fog usually burns off by mid-morning, but smoke can hold through any amount of sun. My percentage of “good” shots rises noticeably with these atmospheric assistants.

Third rule: I return to the same place many times over. When I find a composition with potential, I go back until I feel I’ve gotten the best out of that view. I’ll go in the morning, midday and evening. I even return at different seasons to optimize a particular image. I’ve taken photos of some specific locations 20 times hoping for a better photograph.

So it is with this photo. For years, I’ve worked to capture the transition zone between the scrubby foothills and the higher alpine environment. This location holds a special place to me for that reason. The large juniper tree on the east bank of the Payette River is my marker. It signals that Ponderosa pines are just ahead. I’d photographed this scene many times before this glorious November morning. It was the fog and frost that finally added just the right touch, cleaning it up and lending additional interest.

Consistency, readiness, and persistence won out again.