A series of shelters over a feedlot on a foggy Central Valley winter morning.
One of the benefits of photographing in fog is that it can make almost any subject mysterious and moody. Another is that the limited visibilities can mute or eliminate distractions from the visual focus on the elements that are the most interesting. It is hard to imagine a stronger illustration of these principles than a photograph of this particular subject.
I photograph quite a bit in California’s Great Central Valley during the winter months. During much of the year, this is perhaps not an obvious photographic destination (though looking closer may be worthwhile!). But in winter, when dense tule fogs often settle on the landscape, the place can be transformed in magical ways. If you have passed by one of these feedlots on a warm, sunny day… you probably rolled up your windows and held your breath. But morning tule fog on a winter day might can make it worthwhile to stop (while trying hard to ignore the smell!) and make a few photographs.
G Dan Mitchell is a California photographer and visual opportunist. His book, “California’s Fall Color: A Photographer’s Guide to Autumn in the Sierra” is available from Heyday Books, Amazon, and directly from G Dan Mitchell.
Clouds from an autumn weather front build a above Bridgeport, California.
For those who aren’t from my part of the American West, it is probably important to state up front that this is “the other Bridgeport,” the one in the dry eastern part of California. The town is located in a broad valley at the base of the Sierra Nevada, more or less northeast of Yosemite National Park. The valley is full of cattle grazing in its extensive pasture lands that somehow escaped the clutches of the historic Los Angeles water rights grabs in the eastern Sierra. In addition to cattle, the places relies a lot on campers, anglers, backpackers and other visitors to the outdoors — though in a more laid-back, old-school manner of places a bit off the beaten track. Oh, it is also known for being (at least in my experience) one of the two or three most expensive places in the state to buy gas for your vehicle.
To those of us who live in far more urbanized areas — for me, that is the San Francisco Bay Area — places like this have a bit of an appealing raw edge, a sense that they are closer to the cycles of the natural world and, to some extent, dominated by them. On a day like this one, when the clouds of a Pacific weather front fill the sky, the town itself seems quite small in relationship to the landscape that surrounds it.
G Dan Mitchell is a California photographer and visual opportunist. His book, “California’s Fall Color: A Photographer’s Guide to Autumn in the Sierra” is available from Heyday Books, Amazon, and directly from G Dan Mitchell.
An autumn tree emerges from fog and haze in morning light.
I found this tree, still with full late-season fall color, standing in the middle of a pasture. (If you look very closely you just might be able to spot some cattle.) It was a very foggy morning — mostly quite gray and colorless — until the fog finally began to thin and filtered light started to break through.
It is easy to pass through California’s Great Central Valley and miss its beauty. It is true that the air can become stagnant and that freeway driving isn’t conducive to seeing beyond the traffic in front of you. But get off the main roads, drive a bit more slowly, start very early and stay out until the sun sets, and there is a lot to see.
Evening monsoon thunderstorms dissipate above the basin and range terrain of Nevada
This simple photograph necessarily leads to a long story. It starts many, many years ago when I was a child. My family moved to California from Minnesota when I was four years old, and every few years we took a long trip back to the Midwest to visit my mother’s family in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. (Although I have not been there for some years now, I still have fond feelings for the place.) Sometimes we drove, with my parents figuring out routes that would take us through national parks and monuments — Yellowstone, Rocky Mountain, etc — along the way. Several times we took the train, which in those days was the famous California Zephyr. We would get on the train in Fremont, California and travel all the way to Omaha, Nebraska, arriving very early in the morning and then getting to South Dakota by (usually) rental car or (occasionally) a plane. To a young kid, the California Zephyr was an amazing thing — somehow we got “Pullman” sleeper cars, ate in the dining car, and — if my memory is correct — passed hours in the vista dome car watching the terrain roll by.
Jump forward to the new millennium. Patty’s brother and sister-in-law, and two of our sons and their girlfriends live in Brooklyn, so we find excuses to go to New York City every year or so. This time we went not only to visit family, but also so that Patty could attend the International Double Reed Society conference at NYU. We’ve flown plenty of times, so this time we decided to give the train a try. (We did fly back home at the end of the trip — a good choice in my view.) So on this last day of July we went up to Emeryville, where the Zephyr’s trip starts these days, and embarked on our adventure, nostalgic for me and brand new for Patty. There is much more to say about train travel than I have space for here, but I’ll share just a bit about the first day. The route begins along the shores of the San Francisco Bay and then up the delta to Sacramento, the historic end point of the continental railroad. From there the train crosses the Sierra above Truckee Lake, an absolutely beautiful route that often reveals perspectives on this part of the Sierra that are quite different from what we know from driving Interstate 80. As we crossed the crest, the clouds thickened and we rolled through a hail storm as we descended to Truckee. Not long after that we stopped briefly in Reno, Nevada, and then continued on to the northeast across Nevada. After we passed through Winnemucca (from which I departed some years ago on a grand bike trip across the Black Rock Desert and into Northern California) the train continued on through the Humboldt Basin as evening came on and beautiful light fell on the rangeland and the monsoon clouds overhead as the day came to an end.
G Dan Mitchell is a California photographer and visual opportunist whose subjects include the Pacific coast, redwood forests, central California oak/grasslands, the Sierra Nevada, California deserts, urban landscapes, night photography, and more. Blog | About | Flickr | Twitter | Facebook | Google+ | 500px.com | LinkedIn | Email
