The Sun Rises Early!

I never know what I’m going to get with a sunrise.  I’ve enjoyed countless sunrises over the years:  the majority from getting up early, not coming in late, although there’s been a few of those, too.  For the past decade, or so, the sun risings I’ve witnessed follow on the heels of simple planning.  But in spite of the planning there’s no way I can know what scene will unfold in the eastern sky.  I’m always in the dark on that and leaving home at dark-thirty doesn’t help, either!  Sunsets are different and I can anticipate and see the event unfold;  I’m waiting on it to happen.  Sunrises are so different!

Best Made Plans?

It’s an easy matter to catch the nightly weather forecasts to get an idea of what the weather is predicted to be five to seven days in advance.  But gee whiz, I live in Southwest Oklahoma where moist warm air rising from the Gulf and dry arctic air sweeping down the Plains from Canada can ruin the best meteorologist’s forecast in a matter of hours.   Experience has taught me to check the forecast late the night before and then don’t bet any money on what it’s going to do.  It’s also easy to get the forecast for things like the times for Nautical Twilight, Civil Twilight, and actual time of sunrise, percent of cloud cover, probability of precipitation, direction and velocity of wind, and temperature at any given hour.  There are also plenty of simple software programs that will tell you the precise degree from North that the sun will actually rise on the horizon based on your geographical location.  I use a free one called “Ephemeris.  I plug in the angle of declination for Lawton, or any other location, and then every time I open it I have the time and angles for the rising and setting of the sun and moon on that particular day.  It’s very handy.  Now, with all that in hand a reasonable person would think it’s just a matter of getting out of bed.  “Not so Sherlock!”

Serendipity Happens!

What I’ve come to realize is the only thing I have control of in this situation is the time I get out of bed and the time I leave the house! I’m amazed how far weather predictions made only a few hours ago can miss the mark.  I’m probably expecting too much, but when I’m planning on taking macros of wild flowers and the forecast calls for winds to be 1-2 mph at 7:00 AM, and in reality it’s 5-6 mph, that’s a big deal!   Or I’m trying to catch reflections off lakes and the slight breeze is causing too many ripples.  Sometimes, the 10% cloud cover happens to be on the horizon and totally blocks my sight of the rising sun.   Or, I’m hoping for the predicted cloud cover to create one of those absolutely incredibly beautiful scenes that color the entire eastern sky in hues of pink and blue and it winds up being cloudless, small, orange orb.  What I’ve come to realize is that I’m in the dark in more ways than one when it comes to making photographs in the early morning light of a  sunrise.  I’m surprised every time, without fail.  Only GOD knows how He wants to begin a new day and I’m quickly reminded how little control I have over the situation; a NEW DAY is dawning and I am only a witness.

However, having learned this, over time, doesn’t mean I’ve thrown my planning and preparation out the window.  Oh no, in fact it means I’m must be prepared for something better.  When my intentionally planned goal falls short and the image I’ve created in my mind never materializes, I don’t leave the field and head for the house full of disappointment.  Oh no, no, no!  I say a quick little prayer, “Thank you LORD, now show me what YOU want me to see.  What’s here that I’m missing?  Please, help me to see it!”  An eagerness replaces any disappointment and my eyes are open to all possibilities.  Sometimes it isn’t where I’m at, and I have to leave that spot to search in another.  And there’s always an urgency because the early morning light doesn’t last long and this tends to heighten all my senses.  I’m looking for that next great opportunity!  Sometimes I need to turn around and look behind me.  I can’t tell you the number of times the best light and the best image was when I looked back!

The situation I’ve described happens to me more often, than not.  Because of this, I pack my backpack with every lens and accessory I think I can carry because I don’t know what I may need when I discover the image I’m supposed to capture.  The above image was made on a morning that began with another failed attempt to photograph a sunrise.  The sunrise just didn’t work; it wasn’t there.  The day began several miles from Jed Johnson Lake as I was waiting for an image to materialize that never did.  When my sunrise expectations flopped, I said my prayer, and the real fun began.  I reached Jed Johnson Lake almost 30 minutes after sunrise and the light was changing rapidly.  I quickly swung my backpack into place and secured the straps feeling the weight of the pack settle into place.  With tripod over my shoulder and walking staff in hand, I started down the trail from the parking lot.  This was not the first image I made.  In fact I made several others from different spots and different perspectives.  They were okay, but none seemed to satisfy.  I kept looking for the next best picture.  I knew I hadn’t found it yet.  Finally, I stepped out on this sand bar and knew this was the picture I was looking for this morning.  This was the reason I was there.  With tripod splayed almost flat on the ground, my 16-80 mm set at 20mm, f18, and ISO at 160, I took seven images 1 EV apart beginning in 1/40.  Later, at home, I combined six of the images into one for tonemapping, continued with some post processing to put some finishing touches and wound up with the above image.  I hope you enjoy!