The Coyote on White

What and Where?

"The Coyote on White" was photographed during a NANPA sponsored photography outing in January, 2018. Enchanted by the graphic character of cold wintery landscapes, I could not pass up the chance to taste a bit of a Yellowstone winter. Having seen many striking snow-covered images from the park, my desire to experience it for myself became more of a need than a want.

While we lodged in West Yellowstone, we spent sunrise to sunset traveling the park via slowcoach (actually called "snow coach," but slowcoach might be a bit more apt description). With oversized wheels and a somewhat roomy interior, we effortlessly traversed plowed and unplowed roads as we made our way from snowy riparian lowlands to highland plateaus. The snow coach is a necessary evil if one intends to see more than an isolated region of the park. While a pair of snow shoes and tent would have allowed for a more deliberative photographic experience, time constraints eliminated this as an option. 

Why it Works?

While we did manage to see a wolf making its way towards a herd of bison, this fleeting moment was the only time in which I actually laid my eyes on one. Were it not for an encounter with a fish-seeking coyote, I would not have seen any mammalian carnivores during our brief time in the park. Fortunately, as our first day was coming to a close, we found the coyote pictured here perched on a rock looking into the Madison River. To cut the distance between the animal and my lens, I hiked through hip high snow making my way to the bank of the river. Now, with 30 meters and a river between us, I watch the coyote staring into the water as it searched for a fish. With my finger poised on the shutter release, I waited as the snow fell and my digits froze. Ten minutes felt like an hour as I internally pleaded with the animal to jump into the river and retrieve a fish... but, it just was not meant to be. About fifteen minutes into the wait, my subject retreated towards the forest following its well worn path. Were it not for something in the distance that caused it to stop for a second or two, the "Coyote on White" would not have been made. While not a wolf, this  is the type of photo I had hoped to make. I wanted to isolate a carnivore in a snowy landscape while preserving environmental elements that create a sense of place. Here the reddish coat of the coyote and the spruce to the upper right create a bit of tension in an otherwise field of white.  The recognizable form of the animal and tree anchor our eyes and our minds as we wonder where the coyote is going. 

Ecological Notes

Winter is an ideal time to photograph wildlife in the park, as the lack of vegetation and monotone landscape makes the otherwise invisible, visible. "The Coyote on White" was not the carnivore photo that I intended on making upon deciding to visit Yellowstone in January. Wolves are a keystone species in the park with their selective predation on elk and deer. By actively thinning the herds of these browsers, the wolves positively impact riparian and montane plant diversity which in turn increases the net biodiversity of the park. In fact, a number of studies have demonstrated that the reintroduction of wolves to Yellowstone has actually influenced the way the Yellowstone River meanders throughout the park. Armed with this knowledge of wolf ecology and the significance of keystone species, I arrived in the park with the intention of producing some kind of wolf-landscape.

©2000-2018 BTLeventhal.com / Bruce & Tamy Leventhal. All rights reserved. No image on this site may be used without permission. 

Did You Know (37)?

When Mormon settlers crossed the Mojave in the mid-19th century they "saw" the hands of Joshua reaching towards the heavens... so goes the origin of this tree's colloquial name. Joshua Trees (Yucca brevifolia) are a tree-like monocot plant that belong to the family Agavaceae. Although they are not true trees that produce growth rings with a woody core, this top heavy plant stretches nearly eleven meters towards the desert sky. The asymmetric branching and long spiky leaves remind me of the lonely acacias that dot vast stretches of the African savanna. Restricted to an altitude of 400 to 1800 meters, Joshua trees are an icon of the high desert. Their survival is contingent on adapting to the arid environment, and the plant's morphology reflects its evolution. A long taproot that seeks deep pockets of water, waxy leaves that prevent desiccation, and reproduction timed to ephemeral rains are an adaptive response to life in the desert. Following a heavy precipitation event, large clusters of fragrant white flowers (panicles) emerge and await their pollination. The pollinator is an obligate symbiont known as the pronuda yucca moth. Female moths will deposit eggs into the panicle and, in doing so, cross pollinate the trees. Larval moths feed on developing seeds and will emerge following metamorphosis. The yucca moth and Joshua tree coexist in a mutualistic relationship in which both the moth and tree benefit from their codependency.  

* Did You Know #37 is a modification of a blog that I first posted on April 9, 2011

©2000-2015 BTLeventhal.com / Bruce & Tamy Leventhal. All rights reserved. No image on this site may be used without permission.

It’s not the Gear’s Fault!

While meandering through a local camera store today, I couldn’t help but eavesdrop on a conversation between a customer and salesperson. The exchange was quite cordial and I was impressed with the advice offered by the sales associate. You see, a disgruntled photographer was frustrated with the details captured by her camera. When the customer slowly withdrew her $1600 camera and several equally expensive lenses from a bag, I immediately understood the core of her issues. She was frustrated because the pictures from the camera lacked the “punch and detail” she expected from the gear. The sales clerk looked at the equipment and took a few photos, and like me, quickly diagnosed the problem. Meanwhile, the customer suggested that the camera was inadequate, and it might be time to upgrade. To be clear, this camera was released less than 6 months ago, had a 24 megapixel sensor and was a full-framed DSLR. She was using a fine tool that could be the backbone of a professional’s kit. Yet, for some unknown reason the photographs were lacking; thus something must be inherently wrong with the tools. 

With an ear cocked towards their conversation, I listened to the salesperson coach her client and advise that she invest some time learning how to process a raw image. I have little doubt that the core of the sub-par photographs reside with the deficiencies of the photographer rather than the capture device. The digital tools produced today are so good that people often confuse talent with the gear they own. While it is easy to push the button and take a picture, making images requires study and practice. Everyone wants to “go pro,” but few are willing to do what it takes. In his book that attempts to explain greatness, Geoff Colvine writes that “talent is overrated,… while greatness comes from deliberate practice.” It is a sad reality, but it takes thousands of hours behind a camera and computer to move beyond the taker of lucky shots into the realm of professional predictability. 

About the Image:: Specifically chosen to match my thoughts, this image from Moro Rock in Sequoia National Park was made with a 4 megapixel Nikon D2H camera in 2004. The camera was one of the best digital wildlife cameras of its time, but it suffered for its lack of resolution. Yet, despite the small file and cropped sensor, the image reflects my knowledge about the place, exposure and post-processing. Although this picture was produced from a small 4 megapixel file, the photograph remains a treasured part of my image library. 

©2000-2014 BTLeventhal.com / Bruce & Tamy Leventhal. All rights reserved. No image on this site may be used without permission.

The Hammers

The life of a mid-continental inhabitant wears on the psyche. Cold nights and cold days are our way of life. Sure I live south of the border, but it’s no party in Minnesota on a typical winter day.

This Sunday past Tamy and I visited the “Swan Lake.” It was 5 ℉ when we departed the warmth of our home, and the temperature edged upwards to a whopping 7 ℉ after hours of photography. During the shoot, we both experienced “the hammers.” For those not in the know, “the hammers” are the mind-jarring pain that accompanies an intense exposure to the arctic air flowing across exposed extremities. So intense is this stimulus that I liken it to a mallet striking bare fingers and toes against an iron anvil.

Summer Day in Black and White - Badlands NP, South Dakota

I exclaim, “it’s unfair!,” The arctic air is no impediment to the fowl who winter at the lake. They bathe and tussle in the frigid water as if it were a hot tub on a summer day. We, the featherless, lack the down and plumage that repels the cold. With toes and fingers adapted to touch and fine motor coordination, our asset is now the enemy. Densely packed sensory receptors become overloaded by the intense cold stimulus and, unlike our feathered friends in their Turkish bath, we suffer.

American Bison and Flower (Bison bison) - Badlands NP, South Dakota

There it is,... the REAL Life and Times of a Wildlife Photographer. To be honest, I’d love to show you some work from the shoot, but my hands are too cold to process the images. Once they thaw, I’ll post the shots... until then, enjoy this summer day at Badlands National Park.

©2000-2013 BTLeventhal.com / Bruce & Tamy Leventhal. All rights reserved. No image on this site may be used without permission.

The Devil's in the Details

Medicine Lake - Jasper National Park, Canada

Canon 5D mark II + Canon 24mm f3.5L TSE, 5-shot bracket - HDR

Geek alert... this post focuses on the digital techniques I used to produce the leading image. So, if you’re just interested in the picture, here are the liner notes... you are looking at the long view of Medicine Lake in Jasper National Park. The photo was captured around 4:00 p.m. on a summer day just as the light began to soften.

I wish this image was as easy to produce as it is to describe, but in practice, it required a lot more forethought. Tamy and I spent 16 days exploring the Canadian Rockies. During our travels, we focused on wildlife, flowers and landscapes. I had seen so many amazing images of Lake Louise, I knew that this was something I had to have for myself. After spending many early mornings and late evenings working the iridescent blues of Canada’s most famous lake, and getting the shot in “the can,” Medicine Lake was next on my hit list. We visited the Medicine Lake area at least four times during our four-day shoot in Jasper, and each stop was more disappointing than the last. We’d arrive early and shoot the pre-dawn light and stay late into dusk, but we just couldn’t get the conditions that I had envisioned. My attempts were fraught with complications like overcast like, cloudless skies, or choppy water. During the final pass out of the Medicine Lake area, I impulsively stopped and dragged out the gear to make one last attempt. It took about 30 minutes to set up this shot, as I wanted to position the tripod as close to the ground as possible, level the horizon and build the composition. It was around 4:15 in the afternoon and, being a mid-summer day in Canada, the sun produced many deep shadows and bright highlights throughout. To counter this impossible situation, I produced a 5 stops series of bracketed images in order to capture all of the details from shadow to highlight.

In the initial edit, I was pretty disappointed with my Medicine Lake series. All of the images had serious flaws that I couldn’t see past, so I relegated the photos to my increasingly large pile of non-selects. Thus, a blog-post is born. I need something to say or something to share, and this challenge and frustration seemed as good as any idea I’ve had in the past. 

I pulled up my five shot series from Medicine Lake in Aperture 3.4.3, examined the histogram for each shot, and exported the files as tiffs into my “HDR folder.” In general, I am not overly fond of HDR (high dynamic range) images, and when using this technique, I lean towards the side of realism. The five shots were then imported into Photomatix Pro v4.2. Here I decided to “align the image according to features,” “reduce noise in shadows,” and “reduce chromatic aberration.”

The program did it’s magic and spat out a cartooned version of what I had hoped to see.... this is why I generally dislike HDR! Rather than accepting the tone-mapped surreal product that greeted me, I used the program’s “Exposure Fusion,” option and began to tweak the black and white points. After adjusting the luminance and saturation, I saved the file and imported it into Photoshop CS5. In photoshop, I created a layer mask, adjusted the levels and then began to question whether the final image would be worth the effort. Looking at the post, I’m not sure that it is, and that’s why I think my process is worth these words in this blog. With the levels set, I created another layer mask where I adjusted the shadows and highlights. The global adjustments were over the top, so I painted back the dark tones except for the trees in the foreground. The use of the shadow tool often produces a flat image, so I needed to bump up the contrast. Because a global adjustment would wipe out the shadow mask I just made, I created another layer and used the Unsharp Mask tool at 20 sharpen, 80 radius, and 0 threshold to create some pop. The effect was overwhelming, so once again, I decided to “paint in” the contrast where it was needed. In a final step, I applied a minimal Smart Sharpening to the image and prepped the file for printing and web output. 

Post-processing is a necessary evil of the present. The film guy of the past would have taken the shot, edited the slide and tossed this image into the bin. The blown highlights and black shadows would have made for a lousy film shot. But hey, it’s 2013 and computers can do magic with troubling light. Digital now offers the opportunity for a hack like me to challenge my vision and capture a moment that I would have avoided in the past. Here’s to the “modern era!”

• For you photo-noob’s, the phrase “in the can,” is a reference to film. Film, much like the LP, is ancient history. Film is a thin flexible piece of plastic or other material coated with a light-sensitive emulsion like silver halide. When you finish a roll, it goes in “the can,”... a metal or plastic film container ;-{> .

©2000-2013 BTLeventhal.com / Bruce & Tamy Leventhal. All rights reserved. No image on this site may be used without permission.