Some things shouldn’t be rushed
The other day I got a text from a good friend who lives in the Tennessee River Gorge, down the hill from Prentice Cooper State Forest where I’ve spent a lot of time. On a previous visit, I’d explained how fog can benefit a woodland photo, because it tends to “clean up the clutter” of distracting foliage, and he was kind enough to keep an eye out for these conditions.
Once I saw his message I jumped out of bed, skipped coffee and breakfast, and parked on his property about thirty minutes later - all before sunrise. Hiking quickly through the woods, my eyes surveyed for a composition in the best possible light before the fog lifted.
In hindsight, this hurried mindset was almost definitely the reason my favorite photograph from that morning just didn’t work, compositionally speaking. I was super excited for the opportunity but allowed myself to be in a rush. I felt a particular pressure to “get the shot”, which I believe is a relic from my former corporate life to constantly "perform”. This has proven to be a toxic approach to expressive photography and life in general.
A little context
In the South, we don’t have many dispersed, open forests. Our woodlands tend to be messy and untidy, but oddly enough I’ve come to appreciate how their abundance of life presents a unique chaos that begs to be organized in the viewfinder.
For me, it has become so important to spend lots of time in natural places, to consciously scout for potential compositions but also to unconsciously absorb all that nature communicates. Most of this involves shedding the chatter of electronics and man-made things like traffic, and forgetting the distractions and stresses of modern life. In my opinion, woodland photography needs to be the polar opposite of a “hustle” or “grind.” I can get away with planning and rushing a grand vista photo, where compositions are few and obvious, but that’s just not possible in the forest where ideal light and atmosphere are fleeting, and the line between chaos and order is thin.
Woodland has become my favorite photographic genre for precisely that reason. It’s extremely challenging but can result in extraordinarily gratifying experiences, especially when good photos happen. Composing in the woods is notoriously difficult due to the large amounts of distracting trees, saplings, branches, vines, shrubs, fallen trees and other chaos, but that’s what draws me to it. It forces my brain to focus and meditate, and I’ve come to nearly rely on its therapeutic qualities.
The “should haves”
Exhibit A.
At any rate, I should have spent more time and taken greater care with my photography that morning. As I hiked, I could see early morning sunlight illuminating beautifully pervasive fog that had formed above the river. In places, the gorge caught soft, warm morning light. The conditions simply could not have been more ideal, and I scouted at a fast pace.
“Exhibit A” is the first photo I shot that day, and what I thought was sure to become a portfolio image. I was excited about it at the time and for several days afterward.
I think it’s a fine photograph of a fallen tree and a beautifully misty woodland backdrop. Not the most compelling subject, I realize, but I’ve grown fond of fallen trees for a number of reasons. I love how they continue to benefit the ecosystem by providing nutrients for fungi and habitat for insects and other small creatures. In other words, I love the fallen tree and the surrounding flora, largely because I’ve learned more about how forests work. The trouble is, I just can’t love how I composed it in the frame.
To start, I believe this photos suffers from lazy organization. It feels imbalanced because it’s weighted heavily on the left where the large root ball dominates nearly a third of the frame. There is too much tension on the left side of the photo, where the exposed roots nearly touch the edge. It could use some breathing room. There is also a large empty space of dead leaves in the bottom left that doesn’t contribute to the overall composition.
My new camera in action.
This leads me to the treatment of the subject. The most interesting part of the photo in my opinion, the thing that first caught my eye and made me wander off trail, was the squiggly mass of dirt and exposed roots protruding in all directions.
While it’s interesting enough on its own, it is crowded awkwardly into the edge of the photo. Had I not been rushed, it may have occurred to me to walk a very short distance to the left. By occupying the very far left-hand side of the image, there is nothing to suggest it is the intended subject, such as leading lines or conducive shapes, interesting color, or light. Again, moving left a bit would have freed it up, but instead it is constrained. Better balance and emphasis could have been achieved in exchange for very little effort.
I’m also not a fan of the thick vertical tree directly behind the root ball, because it looks like it’s growing out of it. Separating objects so they don’t intersect or appear too crowded is Woodland Photography 101, but this is often the trickiest part. This could probably be removed in Photoshop but I don’t want to do that.
Finally, at the bottom of the frame there is a dead log covered in bright white mushrooms that, to me, severely distracts the eye. I could have walked closer to the tree to eliminate this. I’m also not a fan of the small tree on the right side, which exits out of the upper corner. It doesn’t do anything to keep the viewer’s eye in the photo and actually encourages the opposite. Moving closer would have helped to get rid of it.
The positives
Thankfully, in my final edit, I was able to crop those objects out, which actually contributed a bit of balance to the image. Now, the roots on the left don’t appear to be so close the edge, and the root ball approaches the center of the frame. It’s still off balance, but not so much that the subject is confusing. The eye is now more drawn to the root ball thanks to fewer distractions and just a touch more prominence within the rectangle.
Rocinante, 3/17/22
Also, I’m fairly proud of how my photo editing has come along in the past few months, particularly where it concerns woodland. I have worked hard to develop a lighter touch when processing photos, often by exercising restraint. Lately I’ve enjoyed how effective lots of smaller changes can be, such as dialing back saturation and making localized, not global, adjustments.
For example, in this image I brightened the background mist by about a third to half a stop, and used Lightroom’s subtraction brush within the radial mask to bring the foreground elements out of the haze. I personally don’t consider this “light painting” because the element of glowing mist already exists, I merely accentuated it. I also increased the blacks in the foreground slightly, using a linear gradient mask, then lowered the background blacks to add a bit of depth to the scene.
These things, in addition to increasing contrast in certain areas of the photo, are about the only edits I’ve done in this particular image but I really appreciate the cumulative impact of a number of small tweaks such as these.
What I’ll do next time
Of course, one photographer’s throwaway image can easily be someone else’s all time favorite, and there’s nothing at all wrong with that. The above “issues” are just examples of a few things that I want to do a better job noticing, and eliminating, so my photography can progress in the ways that I want it to.
That said, the next time I go out in the woods, or any natural place for that matter, I really need to slow down. Just slow down, breath, have a seat and contemplate the Why, the What, the How, and the Where. On previous outings, I’ve found deep peace by simply closing my eyes, listening to the sounds of the forest, feeling the ground beneath me, and practicing intentional mindfulness. Like magic, almost without fail, when I open my eyes I see more clearly like someone has flipped on a light switch.
By intentionally “not trying” or hustling, my relaxed brain notices far more beauty in my surroundings and by default more potential subjects that resonate. This takes some practice and intention, but I’ve found it can become more natural with time.
Ultimately, despite how whiny this post probably sounds, I am super grateful for the ability to go to the woods pretty much any time I’d like. On a whim I can drop what I’m doing and just go, and the privilege required to do so isn’t lost on me. The longer I do this, the more I realize nature still has so much more to teach me about patience and gratitude, and how deep emotions play an integral role in making art.
The “Hustle” is the domain of the corporate drone, not the woodland photographer.
Thanks for following along!
