In the Moment:
Michael Frye's Landscape Photography Blog

Light for Fall Color

More than 20 years ago, when I first got serious about photography, I remember being surprised when photographers I looked up to, like William Neill and Jeff Nicholas, expressed disdain for sunlight and excitement about overcast skies. I didn’t question them, or challenge their thinking, but I was puzzled. Wasn’t shade rather dull?


As I gained experience and photographed more intimate scenes I started to understand what they were talking about. They didn’t want soft light for everything, but preferred it for smaller subjects, especially colorful ones like flowers or autumn leaves. The contrast between sun and shade complicates any photograph, especially forest images with branches zig-zagging across the frame. Contrast also overwhelms colors. Soft light, on the other hand, simplifies any subject, and brings out color contrasts. Colors seem to glow with their own inner light when you take away sunlight and the contrast it creates. The photograph of maple leaves in Yosemite above is a good example of this.


Over the ensuing years I’ve made many of my best photographs in the shade. As I head out to photograph colorful leaves in the Sierra this fall, I’m hoping for overcast skies. Barring that, I’ll get out early and late in the day when trees are in the shade.



Of course there are exceptions, situations where other types of light might be better. Backlight can create beautiful effects with autumn trees, shining through those translucent, colorful leaves from behind and making them glow. This requires the right situation though, where you can place those backlit leaves against a dark background like a shaded hillside or cliff, as in this image of oaks in El Capitan Meadow.



Another exception is big landscapes—yellow leaves in the foreground, for instance, with a mountain in the background. These rarely work on an overcast day. Photographing big subjects usually requires including some sky, and the sky on an overcast day is often a blank, boring, washed-out white blob. It’s better to have some sun somewhere, and some blue sky, or at least small rifts in the clouds. In this photograph of El Capitan I had sunlight on the rock, and blue skies above, while the foreground was nicely shaded. I did some dodging and burning in Photoshop to lighten the foreground and balance shade with sun.


Storm Coming

The National Weather Service is forecasting a major storm for Yosemite and the Sierra Nevada beginning Monday night and continuing through Tuesday night. The Sierra foothills could get two to three inches of rain and higher elevations could get three to five inches, or two or more feet of snow above 9000 feet. Here a link to the NWS forecast for Yosemite, and their Special Weather Statement.

It’s likely that Tioga Pass will close, possibly for several days or more. It’s difficult to know what the effect will be on fall color. The good news is that this storm will be warm, so shouldn’t cause leaves to freeze, wither, and turn brown. But high winds could strip some trees that have already turned. During or just after the storm the rain will enrich the color in moss and leaves. I took advantage of such wet conditions when photographing the oak trees above in Yosemite Valley several years ago.

Plot Twist for Yosemite Photographers

Sunday’s storm added a twist to this year’s fall color story. In my post from September 30th I waxed optimistic about the how the weather conditions—a warm September followed by a cold spell at the beginning of October—might lead to great fall color like we had in 2007. But there’s cold and there’s really cold. Scientists say that the best color comes from sunny days and cool, but not freezing, nights (see Wikipedia and The Buffalo Museum of Science). Temperatures definitely dropped below freezing all over the Sierra on Sunday, as the snow level was down to 5500 feet, and probably reached freezing each subsequent morning in most places above 5000 to 6000 feet.


What usually happens when a cold and windy storm blows through (like we had Sunday) is that trees that have already turned will drop their leaves, and some leaves that are starting to turn will wither and turn brown. I expect that’s already happened to many of the high-elevation aspens in the Eastern Sierra. The good news is that most of the lower-elevation aspens, and virtually all of the deciduous trees in Yosemite, were still green, and were probably unaffected by the storm. The cold weather should start all these trees turning quickly, but during the coming week or so there might not be much color anywhere, as trees that had turned will be bare or withered, and trees that were green will need a week or two to arrive at their peak color. But I’d guess we’ll see some good color among the lower-elevation aspens on the east side in one to two weeks, in the higher-elevation dogwoods in Yosemite (Tuolumne Grove and along Highways 41 and 120) also in one or two weeks, and in Yosemite Valley in two or three weeks. Barring further storms that is.


Since I haven’t been to the east side lately, I’d love to hear from anyone who has, especially if you’ve been there since Sunday and can tell us whether the those high-elevation aspens are bare or withered. Here’s one report from Dan Mitchell that seems to confirm my speculation that some of those upper-elevation trees are past prime.

First Autumn Storm

The first significant storm of the season rolled into Yosemite early this morning, dropping about a quarter of an inch of rain in Yosemite Valley, and enough snow above 6000 feet to close the Tioga Pass and Glacier Point Roads and prompt a chain requirement on Highway 41.


The afternoon brought sun, then showers, then sun, then showers, with the pattern continuing until sunset. I found myself at Tunnel View yet again, watching and waiting as several promising breaks in the clouds fizzled. Near sunset I drove through the tunnel to get a view to the west, and saw clear skies near the horizon. The sun would drop below the clouds within minutes.


Back at Tunnel View the scene was gray, the parking lot almost empty, and the rock wall devoid of tripods, but I set up and waited. A few minutes later a faint sunbeam penetrated the valley floor. Gradually the light grew more intense and I composed several frames, including the one above. The parking lot had filled up and half a dozen tripods had joined mine.