Morning Dew, Pot Hollow, Wasatch Mountain State Park, Utah

Now that it’s almost April, it does seem a little bit late in the year to be presenting the “Best of 2011” images. The fact is, I have 30-45 images from the previous year I feel are good enough to share, and that I had hoped to use as the impetus to expand my activities in the blogosphere; I haven’t quite made good on my new year’s resolution. According to my plan, I should be just about done presenting the “Best of 2011”, which I’m not, but I think I will drop the moniker.

Editing all your images at the end of the year, and creating a best of collection can help measure growth and identify trends in your photography, and may even lead to new ideas for projects. It’s only natural to take stock at the end of the year, but I have to give credit to William Neill for fleshing this idea out for me. You can view Neill’s 40 best images of 2011, and link to his article about annual assignments, on his blog (of course, since it’s almost April, you’ll have to click back to “older entries”).

I discovered this small ephemeral waterfall on a recent hike to Lake Blanche in Big Cottonwood Canyon.  It took a return visit to refine my compositions and come home with some unique images. On my first visit, the siren song of the lake kept me from giving my full attention to this little falls. I did check it out though, and took a few photos. When I got a look at my images on the computer, I realized I had a great subject, and I had missed the shot, I had failed to execute the image in my mind.

This impressionistic blur was created through the execution of one simple idea: isolate the reflection of sunlit cliffs in the creek; eliminate all extraneous elements from the frame. I can’t help but love the way this straight photograph shows a little piece of the world in a way that just cannot be seen by the eye-unless you squint really, really hard.

This frame shows big cottonwood creek pared down to the simplest of compositions. By including only the water’s surface, I let the interplay between highlight and shadow, guide my composition. I use my telephoto zoom to narrow my angle of view, and in effect dissect the scene. I find a nice diagonal, and zoom out as wide as I can go without including any rocks in the frame. With the camera securely mounted on a tripod, I allow the water’s motion to paint pastel strokes on the sensor during this second and a half long exposure.