One of my favorite things to do when I shoot night time photography or long exposures is to mess around with light(s). The reason I like it so much is because I never know what to expect. Usually I have a general idea, but the most exciting part about it is not knowing. When the shutter is open for long periods of time, light (even small amounts) can affect the picture drastically. This makes experimentation even more exciting since even mistakes can turn out favorable. Not only is it great for learning new techniques, but sometimes the end result can be so unique and crazy it is almost unimaginable.

The camera can pick up much more than the human eye since it has the ability to let in more light over greater lengths of time.  Typically, when playing around with light, or light painting, no two pictures are identical. Even if I have the camera positioned in the same spot the entire night, the possibilites are endless and no two shots look exactly the same.

This shot was taken in a campground just outside of Castlegaar, B.C. I had the camera on a tripod while I set a 15 second self timer so that I could get in place. Once the countdown started, I ran off into the woods and made sure I was out of the frame. When I heard the shutter open, I turned on my lantern and at a semi-fast pace, walked randomly through the woods. I was really impressed with how the photo turned out, especially since it was my only attempt at this particular shot that night. The exposure itself was 32 seconds long.

Taking this shot was probably the closest I’ve ever felt to being a paparazzi. The sunset was absolutely gorgeous that evening!  The smooth look of the tide on the shore, along with the glaring reflection of the setting sun, made the experience surreal.  I noticed a fisherman in the water a fair distance away, casting into the ocean as the tide crept in. Knowing that there wasn’t much time before the sun went down, I ran over to ask him if he didn’t mind me following him while I shoot a few sunset photos with him in the frame. Not only did he give me consent, but he seemed flattered and even excited.  

Since I was using an extremely wide angle lens, he seemed much further away in the frame than I had hoped for.  I was so excited to get the shot that I walked into the water with my jeans and my shoes on. The fisherman continued casting his line into the water (perhaps a little more gracefully since he knew he was on camera), while I inched my way closer to him. By this time the temperature had drop quite drastically and the water was now up past my knees. I didn’t even care.

Before I knew it, over half an hour had past, and rather than being well out of speaking range, I was now just a few meters behind him.  There was an awkward presence as I finally realized that he was now more concerned about getting back to fishing, than posing for a photo derby. I snapped a few more shots and thanked him before frantically running to shore, realizing how cold and uncomfortable my wet clothes were.  At the time, I was about half way done a 25 day trip and the only other footwear I had was one pair of sandals (not so good in the hot California sun).  My feet looked like I had walked on a barbeque.

In the end, I was really happy with the shots I got… It’s just too bad I didn’t get his information so I could send him a copy.  I know that fishing requires patience, but this man deserves an award.

At first glance, many people mistake this photo for a sunset. However, it is actually a moon-rise.  It was about 12:00AM and the moon was just starting to rise. The grass in the foreground was illuminated by a shimmering golden glow from the moon light. 

It is amazing how much light the moon provides once one’s eyes adjust. Typically, at this location on a moonless night, the old warn down shack looks like nothing more than a depthless silhouette, masked by a collage of surrounding darkness. On this particular night, not only was there enough light to capture the foreground with detail, but the warm welcoming moon painted a poetic portrait of the lonely landscape.

This startrail shot was a single 30 minute exposure. The mid-night reflection on Lee Lake created an eerie, yet soothing ambience. Fortunately, this particular night held absolutely no wind, which is a rare occurence considering I’ve been there many times when the woeful wind blows angrily at upwards of 100 km/h.

The clouds in the distance were illuminated by the gentle glow of street lights from the surrounding mountain towns. The selfless trees shone shadows in the water, each just as lifeless as their caster.  The soothing silence and complacent calmness, combined with crystal clear skies, made this one of the most awe-inspiring photo shoots I’ve ever done.

The hardest part about doing a single long exposure (especially of this duration), is worrying about whether or not the battery can withstand the chills of the night long enough to finish the shot. Even though it was spring time, the tempatures at night in the mountains still drop below freezing.  There have been occasions when I have started 45 minute exposures and they were lost in translation due to the battery; definitely not the greatest feeling in the world.

As far as techniques go, star trails are probably the easiest thing to photograph. All one really needs is a tripod and a remote (and a camera of course) to be able to capture the trails of light. However, getting a startrail correctly exposed is probably one of the hardest (if not the hardest) task I’ve ever faced throughout all of my photographic experiences.