Outdoors Articles Library

It's possible to be an outdoor photographer even if you live in town. You just have to remember one very important thing: be on good terms with your neighbors.

The other day, I was on my hands and knees getting ready to scrub out the second-floor bathroom tub. Gloves on, apron firmly tied, mind focused on domestic chores—and then I glanced up and looked out the window.

A herd of miniature cloud formations was galloping across a delicate blue sky, the almost-setting sun throwing a pale gold lasso around the whole scene. Trees from my neighbors' yard stretched naked branches skyward as if in a determined effort to grab a few of those white steeds. This was perfect. This was exactly what I'd been looking for. I needed a "naked trees" photo to fulfill this week's challenge from a fellow photographer, and this just might do it.

Forget the tub. I dashed down the hall, grabbed the camera, and was streaking down the stairs before the stripped-off rubber gloves had even landed on the floor.
I didn't fasten my boots, I didn't zip my jacket, I didn't even put on insulated gloves. I just rounded the corner of the house and strode across my backyard in a westerly direction, looking for those trees against that sky—but now composing in my head as I went.

My first problem was that at ground level, everything fit different. Other trees were in the way. The scene was cluttered. I kept moving toward my neighbor's yard, which slopes up a bit. The snow piles had a thick crust that kept me mostly on the surface,although every now and then I'd break through, flailing with one hand to keep from going over sideways and breaking an ankle.

One neighbor's yard down and I headed into the next one, moving quickly—as quickly as those galloping clouds--hoping not to look suspicious to anyone glancing out a window. Now and then I'd stop, bring the camera up, frame a possible photo—then discard it. Nothing had the drama of the bathroom window version.

Twice I almost had something, but had to contend with the biggest enemy to urban outdoor photography—overhead wires. Running like rows of umbilical chords from house to utility pole, each yard had them, spoiling my shot, ruining my view. Sometimes they can be cloned out in Photo Shop--when they stretch across a blank sky, for instance—but it just wouldn't work against a shot full of lacy tree branches and cloud formations.

By then I was four houses down. I don't know these neighbors quite as well. Crunching through their yards, dodging desiccated shrubs, wading through drifts—it was all suspicious enough without my regular gander through the camera's view finder. Heaven help me if any of these people actually had something to hide.

Finally, finally, I found it—the perfect tree, graceful and lean with the strong bones that make a strong image. Behind it, still rolling across the sky, that herd of white cloud horses. Best of all, no wires. I snapped and snapped again—vertical, horizontal, zooming out, pulling in. I didn't worry about exposure compensation. The bright sky would turn the tree into a silhouette, but in this case, it's just what I wanted.

No one looking at this photo would ever guess I was 25 feet from an alley, 10 feet from a garage, and trespassing good-naturedly in my neighbors' urban yards. Nature is nature, no matter where you find it.

That you CAN find it in the city is my daily challenge. I issued that same challenge last November to a young photographer who had emailed me complaining that there were no leaves, there was no snow, nothing was pretty, he was in town and that, I was to understand, was why he hadn't posted any good photos recently.

Oh no, I told him. None of that. Get out there in your yard and SEE. I made it a mutual challenge, and offered to post my own photo of what I could find in my own backyard on that dreary November day. (No neighbors to contend with that way.)

I scrambled a bit, I admit. That in-between season can indeed be a challenge. But I found a gall on the branches of the pine tree that looked like a curly pine cone hug. I got close, closer, waited for no wind, and snapped. The result could as well have been taken in the forest depths, but nature lives in town, too, and shouldn't be ignored. To cite a favorite quote: "Ordinary photographers take ordinary photos of extraordinary things. Extraordinary photographers take extraordinary photos of ordinary things."

You just have to get out there and SEE—and don't mind the neighbors

BY Monica Isley - lablover47  

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