Before sunrise ... Jerry Mercier

Standing in Grand Teton National Park on a cold November morning before sunrise, everything was coming together nicely. The lake was calm, clouds hung low over the Teton Range, and I could see sunlight high on the clouds above. I was holding out hope that the sun would get high enough to light the scene across the lake before any wind stirred the calm water.

This was the view when I got there. 

The summit of Mount Moran peeking out above the clouds.

As I waited, I quietly sang "Here Comes the Sun" over and over. Hoping it would listen.

 Clouds blanketed the mountains in front of me.

A bit of a breeze picked up and ripples ran across the lake.

That wasn't what I was looking for. I needed the wind to hold off and the sun to hurry up.

With just a little luck I could end up with beautiful colors and reflections.

Well. The song didn't work and the sun never made it and the wind picked up and blew any potential reflections away. 

So plan A was out. But plan B was looking pretty good. After awhile Grand Teton appeared above the clouds bathed in sunlight. 

I quickly made a few images as the mountain was visible. I'm lucky I hurried. After just a moment or two it was again enveloped by cloud.

Time to leave and look for calmer water.

I didn't have any luck since the wind just kept on blowing, but was able to make this image a little later. 

I've spent way more time waiting for sunrises with colors and reflections that never came than photographing the ones that did. However, every morning I've waited has been time well spent regardless of the images I've captured.

Waiting on sunset ... Jerry Mercier

 

On a chilly November afternoon with a cold wind blowing in my face I stood on the shore of Jackson Lake looking towards Mount Moran and the Teton mountain range. Though the location was beautiful, things weren't looking very good.

It was my last evening in Grand Teton National Park and I was holding out hope for calm water, great light and a colorful sunset.

Instead, I had brisk wind, heavy cloud cover and no light to speak of. In fact I was looking at the scene in the photo above.

With more than a couple of hours until sunset I was willing to wait. I put on my warm hat, scarf, heavy coat, and gloves. I even broke out some hand warmers and put them inside the gloves. I took my tripod and camera gear and walked along the shoreline until I found a spot near a big rock and some driftwood that seemed less exposed to the wind.

Although conditions weren't ideal I had a couple tricks I could use to try and make some decent images. By using a slow shutter speed I could effectively smooth the rippled water of the lake and get some reflections as in the picture above.

Since there really wasn't much light, there really wasn't much color and I was working in monochrome. Yet, I could occasionally see the sun trying to shine through and kept hoping for the best.

Even the least amount of light, as in moments like this, buoyed my faith. If the sun could slip under the clouds for even the briefest amount of time the colors could be unbelievable.

As sunset drew near the wind quieted and the lake became more still. 

Though the water was much calmer, it was pretty clear there'd be no fiery sunset or colorful skies on this night.

Yet, I was grateful for the experience. The cold wind on my face, the time standing and walking along the rocky shore and the beautiful world all around me.

All and all, it had been a great last evening. Before leaving I took the time to make this self-portrait just before night fall. Alone with the majesty of the Tetons at the end of the day.

A little lucky... Jerry Mercier

 

Last November I was in western North Dakota at Theodore Roosevelt National Park for a few days. The weather was beautiful with temperatures in the 60's and 70's. 

Every morning and evening I spent looking for bands of horses to photograph, always hoping to be able to silhouette them against dramatic skies at sunrise or sunset. 

I've spent a lot of days with horses in the park and haven't had much luck getting those particular shots. There are so many variables at play; topography, finding horses in decent locations, good light, having interesting clouds and skies, and then getting a colorful sunrise or set. 

It seems it's a lot to ask.

Well, on this particular day I found a band of horses grazing on a hillside in the badlands with clouds to the west late in the afternoon. So far so good. 

I parked, gathered my gear and slowly worked my way in their direction. The horses seemed unbothered by me, so I kept moving until I got near the bottom of the hill they were on, where I sat down and had a drink of water.

After a short while a bit of color showed in the sky and it was time to get to work. This young stallion paused to poop.

A foal approached to see what I was up to while its mom watched intently from a distance.

As the light changed and the horses continued to graze nearby I slowly moved around to try and silhouette them against the sky through gaps in the clouds.

Although it was late November, the temperature was still 60 degrees and I was sweating while making these images. I took my coat off and left it by a tall sage brush to pick up later.

After a little while I realized I was saying "unbelievable" out loud over and over again. The horses didn't seem to mind and just kept on feeding and working along the ridge as I smiled and kept on shooting.

As the colors faded and turned to blue I took the time to appreciate where I was,  sitting on the ground on a hill in the badlands of North Dakota with no cars or people anywhere nearby amid a band of wild horses at sunset. It was a good day.

There was no other place I'd rather have been. 

And I was in no hurry to leave. 

When the light was too low to make any more images I put my camera in its bag, lay the tripod down beside me, took a drink of water and quietly sat on the hill as it got truly dark. 

As the first stars became visible I laid on my back looking up while listening to the sounds of the horses chewing grass nearby. Hearing an occasional snicker or whinny as well.

After awhile I told the horses 'thanks' and that I was leaving. I slowly got up, gathered my jacket and worked my way down the hill and back towards my car.

As I walked away they remained as I found them, grazing on a hillside in the beautiful badlands of North Dakota.

Again... Jerry Mercier

At it again.

After being locked out of my old blog by Google I've decided to try again.

This is that attempt.

I captured the above image on a chilly March morning in western North Dakota.

I'd located a band of four wild horses grazing on a hillside before dawn in Theodore Roosevelt National Park. 

As I watched, the horses split up with one going over the hill and out of sight while the three others continued to eat as they worked their way to the valley below.

My plan was to approach slowly, get the angle and be able to silhouette them against the sun as it rose above the horizon. 

As I moved in the general direction of the horses, they seemed unbothered and continued grazing. 

By the time I was where I needed to be the sun was cresting the hill to the east, but nothing seemed to be coming together. All of the angles were off, as I was too high up, the horses were in shadow, and the sun was too low. I needed a new plan.

I had been talking quietly to the horses throughout and they didn't seem to mind as I moved around a bit trying to find a better and lower location from which to photograph them.

After some trial and error, I ended up lying flat on my belly in a small depression on the cold wet ground. 

With camera in hand, I got to work.

Here, one of the three mares continues to eat while I quickly work to focus, compose and capture some images all while lying in an uncomfortable semi contortionist position.

Two mares take a brief break from grazing and look in my direction.

I had been trying to get these silhouettes for years and did my best to make the most of the opportunity while still enjoying every moment. 

Shortly after this photo, I heard whinnying and the sound of hooves on the ground as a horse crested the hill and came running toward the three mares I was with.

I rolled to my side still laying on the ground and said "hey I'm right here" as an agitated stallion snaked his neck towards the mares, still whinnying, and made it clear it was time for them to go.

I did my best to get the stallion in focus and was able to make a few quick captures before he drove his small band away from me and over the hill.

You can see the mares' tail as she bolts to leave. 

Another super day in Teddy Roosevelt National Park:)