Many of the places I visit are known for their extraordinary beauty, striking features and eye-grabbing vistas that justifiably attract thousands of daily visitors and inspire millions of photographs. Stimulating scenes like these seem to be every nature photographer’s goal, but today I’d like to issue a shout-out to ordinary beauty—the simple scenes with the ability to soothe, by virtue of their subtle beauty, that we pass by every day.
Art of any form appeals on two seemingly contradictory planes: it must stimulate enough to attract, yet soothe enough to sustain. I call these art’s “oooh” and “ahhh” factors, and they’re often mutually exclusive. It saddens me that social media seems to have biased photographers toward the oooh images, compelling them to settle for the obvious beauty that encourages viewers to simply click Like and maybe comment “Stunning!” before moving on to the next image. Sadly, this phenomenon seems to have made social media Likes the ultimate arbiter of beauty for many, and I fear that we’re loosing sight of Nature’s ability to soothe.
Images that shout their beauty might get my attention, but they’re not usually the kind of images I’d mount on a wall to live with for an extended period. Music is a great analog that most people can relate to. When I’m running or need to work around the house, I love cranking up AC/DC, Foo Fighters, or The Afghan Whigs (I could go on) , but couldn’t live with it 24×7. On the other hand, while Pat Metheny, Michael Franks, or Azymuth (I could go on) might not stimulate me into an adrenalin frenzy, but I can have them playing in the background all day and my world’s a happier place.
Nature photography’s challenge is overcoming that urge to settle for the loudest beauty, or that impulse to drive right past any scene that doesn’t grab the eye instantly, and to instead take the time seek beauty hidden just beneath the surface. After doing this photography thing for many years, I realize that the scenes that at first glance appear “ordinary” are often the scenes where I find the soothing qualities that sustain an image for the long haul.
About this image
Living in the California puts me in relatively close proximity to some of the most diverse, spectacular natural beauty in the world. Rivaling (and arguably surpassing) California’s scenery, New Zealand offers its own vast assortment of extraordinary beauty. Festooned with snow-capped peaks, glacial lakes, plunging waterfalls, massive glaciers, lush rainforests, and dazzling fiords (the New Zealand spelling for fjord), New Zealand is a visual paradise by any standard.
In addition to this obvious beauty, one thing that strikes me on each visit to New Zealand’s breathtaking South Island is the ubiquity of the beauty present even in New Zealand’s “ordinary” (a relative term) landscapes. Unlike traveling between photo destinations in California, in New Zealand even the drives to and from gorgeous photo destinations are so beautiful that I enjoy the views along the way almost as much as I do the destinations themselves.
In the New Zealand workshops Don Smith and I do each June, one spot that has always grabbed my eye is a small, tree-lined lake near Twizel, the home of our hotel for the Aoraki / Mt. Cook National Park and Lake Tekapo portion of our workshop. Known as Wairepo Arm, it’s connected by a small culvert to larger (but still not large by New Zealand standards) Lake Ruataniwha, a manmade lake created for hydroelectric power purposes.
The first thing I notice here is the orange trees reflecting atop the usually calm lake. Since we’re always here in June, right around the Southern Hemisphere’s winter solstice, my first assumption was that the orange color was just late fall foliage hanging on into early winter. I didn’t realize until one particularly frigid morning in 2019 when we found the trees glazed with hoarfrost, pretty much demanding that we stop and photograph, that (despite the icy frosting) there are no leaves on these trees and the color is entirely in the trees’ bare branches. It turns out these are (non-native) flame willow trees that sport their vivid orange (it’s not subtle) all winter long.
This year, after a long drive from Mirror Lakes near Milford Sound, we decided this might be a good time to give our group a chance to photograph this scene at Wairepo Arm that we usually drive right by. We crossed our fingers and were thrilled to find the color strong, the lake calm, and the reflection everything we’d hoped for. As an added bonus, the entire scene was capped by a low fog that bathed everything in soft, shadowless light.
I’d never paid much attention to the birches before this visit, but for some reason this time my eyes went straight to their parallel trunks and papery white bark. While everyone in the group walked through gaps in these trees to stand on the lakeshore for an unobstructed view of the reflection, as I scanned the scene it occurred to me that I might be able to include the birches and still capture the reflection.
I walked down the lakeshore a couple of hundred yards and found a combination of evenly spaced parallel birches spaced enough to reveal the colorful trees and their reflection. The composition I thought worked best emphasized the horizontal bands complemented by the perpendicular trunks. Since the sky itself was pretty bland, and the grassy foreground was pretty disorganized, I included just enough of each to add to the horizontal layering. When a few ripples disturbed the lake surface, I added my Breakthrough 6-stop Dark Polarizer to smooth them.
I have no illusions that this image will be a social media viral sensation, but its soft light and soothing stillness provide the staying power I crave in an image.
See for yourself when Don and I return to New Zealand next year
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“Ordinary” Beauty
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