Bob Cammarata
I am a Maryland photographer who specializes in nature in all its forms.
For as long as I can remember, my love for the outdoors has inspired me to capture Nature's beauty and intrigue.
My primary interests photographically, involve traveling the country, and getting up close and personal with subjects in nature. My travels have taken me to every corner of the U.S. and parts of Canada, but the majority of my photography occurs less than a tank of gas away.
I am an active contributor to Flickr, Bugguide, Moth Photographer's Group, Maryland Biodiversity Project, and other popular wildlife and photography websites.
My photos and articles have been published in books, magazines, business and travel brochures, and many of my landscape photos have been sold as fine art prints.
My photo "Living on the Edge" achieved global acclaim at the 2014 Photokina Expo in Cologne, Germany.
This Blog was created to share some of my knowledge, exploits and adventures while striving to obtain that "perfect photo".
The title for this Blog, "Things That Don't Shoot Back", is kind of an inside joke on myself. It refers to my usual response when asked why I never shoot people. MY ARTICLES: Also, as seen on the blog "IN RELENTLESS PURSUIT" Bat Cave Chronicles Next Stop...OZ On Snake Mountain Fish Tales (Part 1) Fish Tales (Part 2) My Books: CONFESSIONS OF A FREE STATE ANGLER THE BOOK OF CATERPILLARS |
Sunday, August 30, 2020
My Bio
Saturday, August 29, 2020
Sunrise at Sideling Hill
It’s a cool, crisp summer morning as I steer my car through the darkness and onto the interstate. The tunes are blasting, and the volume within my coffee mug is rapidly diminishing as the miles race by.
On this
trip, there will be no stopping for breakfast. Time will be allotted for that
later. It’s a game of Beat the Clock. Getting to the Sideling Hill Overlook early
enough to set up my camera gear before the sun peaks over the eastern horizon
is my only mission.
Today
seems promising though. It’s late August. The early twilight is free from
discernable cloud cover. A heavy haze blanketing the distant horizon is a mixed
blessing. The mountain folds and layers will be less defined, but when the sun
rises, it should be a “red rubber ball”, naturally diffused by haze.
I
quickly unpack my gear and set up on a grassy knoll facing east. From this
vantage point, there is an unobstructed view of the mountainous landscape to
the east. Blustery conditions typical for this altitude necessitates that my two
tripods need to be anchored firmly. A picnic table conveniently positioned
nearby houses my array of lenses and other gear.
At this
Sideling Hill location, my strategy is the always the same. Four separate
lenses are utilized. A 50 mm lens offers a naked-eye view of the distant
landscape, while 100 mm, 180 mm, and 300 mm telephoto lenses pull in specific
portions of the landscape in varying degrees of perspective. (My wide-angle
lenses remain in the car.)
With
the time of sunrise nearly a half-hour away, there’s plenty of opportunity to
ensure that my camera settings are true. A low-ISO setting reduces noise during
early light. An Exposure Delay Mode flips up the mirror a few second before the
shutter for vibration-free exposures. The morning light is cool, so a white
balance setting of 6600K warms things up. I practice by shooting the twilight
as an amber glow begins to paint the distant sky. It’s a waiting game, while periodic
switching of lenses and direction creates dynamic.
Then it
happens. The first glimpse of a bright red sun peeks over the horizon. This is
the time to shoot quickly. I switch to my 300 mm lens, select an aperture in
the middle-range and start firing. As anticipated, the haze obscures the
harshness of the sun. I’m able to shoot directly toward the rising red ball
without any visible flares, aberrations or artifacts. I keep my exposure times short to ensure that my rising sun remains round.
As the
sun ascends higher, the distant skies intensify from red to orange as the
foreground mountainscape comes to life. I quickly switch to my shorter lenses
to portray the sunrise within more of the surrounding landscape. As a thin
cloud begins to block the path of the sun, I switch back to the 300 mm…hoping
for a chance to capture sun rays from above and below the cloud. In the hazy
atmosphere, the early sun is not yet bright enough to create rays. It’s
disappointing but appears dramatic as it is.
Before long, the brightness of the sun intensifies from orange to yellow. The brief window of opportunity to include the sun in the frame has come to an end. My concentration is re-directed toward photographing the surrounding landscape to the left and right of the sun’s path. I focus upon the layered folds of distant peaks. In the valleys below, a dense fog of heavy haze smothers the lowland like a woolen blanket. I compose and shoot quickly, knowing the brief period of magic light will end as quickly as it began.
As mentioned earlier, timing is critical. It’s wise to arrive at the Sideling Hill Overlook a half-hour before the scheduled sunrise. The parking area is located at the summit and is only accessible when driving from east to west on I #68. (East-bound travelers need to cross the summit and continue down the other side of the mountain to Exit #77…then turn around to head west.)
Here are a few photos taken from the Sideling Hill Overlook:
© Bob Cammarata 2020
bobcammarata.blogspot.com
(All photography by author)
No portion of this material may be copied or used without permission