Keeping it Natural

Whenever possible, I use natural light in my photography. I much prefer it to artificial light which, if you think about it, hasn’t been around very long. Thomas Edison patented the light bulb in 1879 during the lifetime of my great-grandparents. We’re not sure how long humans like us have been around; recent discoveries in Morocco indicate about 300,000 years, so artificial light is very new in a relative sense. Before Edison, the only light we had to operate between sunset and sunrise was some sort of flame from candle, lamp, or lantern, all of which I would characterize as natural.

Moonset over Mount Washington

Artificial light improves our lives and we all use it every day, but it always feels unnatural to me and feeling is a big component of photography as I like to do it. Although I spent several hundred bucks on an artificial flash unit to photograph my loved ones indoors in the low light of our long, Maine winters, I only use it when I have to. As digital photography keeps improving, I use it less and less.

Lovell beech

People have asked me to photograph weddings and I’ve obliged a few times, but I don’t anymore. That’s work, and it diminishes the enjoyment of taking pictures for me. I only want to shoot what I want to shoot, so it’s been more than thirty years since I’ve done it for hire. Recently I’ve begun uploading a few images to Shutterstock, which is an online site for selling them. If others will pay to use pictures I’ve already shot that’s fine, but I’ll retain ownership and continue to shoot only what inspires me. I’ve donated images to non-profits and I’ve allowed National Review and other publications to use some, but I’ve never charged for them.

Santorini

Perhaps the best natural light conditions I ever encountered were in Santorini, Greece. Our two days there had plenty of June sunshine and people are required to paint their houses and businesses white. Some cyan and light pink and blue are allowed now but all reflect light very nicely. Nearly every building perches on the steep rim of a volcanic crater high above the sea which reflects light upward. It’s photographer heaven and I shot hundreds of pics — of which about ten I’d consider high quality. Shutterstock already has over 82,000 pics of Santorini but I think mine will compete.

Santorini sunset

My northern European ancestors valued sunlight  highly for millennia to the point where it seems they worshipped it. Whoever built Stonehenge oriented it to the solstices. The builders of Ireland’s Newgrange structure did as well and it predates Stonehenge by 1000 years. Druid priests, or whoever presided over these ancient structures (historians aren’t sure), would have used candles or lamps to light the inner passages of Newgrange. Unless people lit massive bonfires, low light at night was the rule for everyone. Then in 1824, Augustin-Jean Fresnel invented the famous lens named for him through which light from a single lantern in a lighthouse could be projected 20 miles to warn ships of navigational obstacles. They’re still in use today.

Inside Newgrange

Those conducting solemn ceremonies and romantic encounters still favor natural light from candles even when all sorts of artificial light emission devices are available now. Just before I go to my bed each night I like to walk outside for a few minutes to smell the air. It’s never dark outside the South Portland house with street lights, porch lights on neighboring houses, and lights from Portland across the harbor. In Lovell, by contrast, there’s only light from the moon or stars with the exception in winter of a few twinkles from a distant hillside in Chatham, New Hampshire. I much prefer evenings outside there.

Kezar Lake sunset

It’s never completely quiet near the city either, whereas out in the country the only sounds are from wind, rain, or a wild animal, with only an occasional bark from a domestic dog. Some people find comfort in the lights and sounds of a city that never sleeps. I get that, but I believe I’ll always prefer natural sources for both.

Fall Fell

Autumn is just about over. Most of the leaves are down after the heavy rain of the past few days, but I got these shots of a Japanese Maple on one of the properties I manage just before they fell off.Something about that shade of red I like and I try to capture it every November.Took a day to wander over the line in New Hampshire with a friend while there were still some leaves to see. Have always liked this view of Mount Chocorua behind the lake of the same name.The sugar maples hadn't dropped all their yellow leaves yet, as this one displays before a November mist on Kezar Lake back across the line in Maine.There's something about sunlight in November. Can't quite describe it, but it brings similar feelings every year at this time. Here it is coming into my kitchen from the west in late afternoon.This is up on Smart's Hill where my wife and I like to sit as daylight dissipates. The mountains were shrouded as rainclouds broke up after the deluge. It all made for a tranquil blue mood. Seems like the road to winter, but we're not quite there yet.It's not far away though as I see in this early dawn shot of Mount Washington from my back porch.

Autumn Twilight

A film director I know calls this the "golden hour." In fall, it's the last 20-30 minutes of bright sun before it sets. Always want a camera in hand. These are my favorite ash trees in the back yard. The sky is bluest on a crisp autumn afternoon too.These had just come down in the previous night's wind and rain. They were lit from the side by the declining sun.This is my favorite shade of red in geraniums. It's rich. My wife saves these each fall - brings them inside for the winter and puts them back out.Twilight makes the leaves look good too.Crimson catches my eye. Saw these sumacs on the way to work one morning last week near the Saco River. I'm alway a sucker for nature's reds.These are nicer.These needles fell on an old railroad tie I'd hauled in so my wife could use it as a step. This tie had been imprinted by the gravel base after so many heavy trains had passed over it. The twilight makes it more interesting.Another morning last week showed muted light. The sun hadn't quite risen and it had rained heavily in the night. Gotta move that woodpile before winter.Love those reds. Hope the wife saves these geraniums again for next year.