Leaving Moab, Utah. I’m heading home, and Moose is heading for the wild blue yonder, somewhere over Texas. With him goes the Digital Landscape Workshop Series, one of the most durable, inspirational, educational efforts in the world of photography. Moving on.
Like a favorite TV series that comes to wistful but logical ending, DLWS has staged its’ last episode. Moose, redoubtable shooter that he is, has been re-inventing himself for a while now, and sees a future up there in the skies, with the fly boys, and perhaps not as much with the bears and the birds. Not that he’s utterly leaving landscape and wildlife behind, he’s just, as all good shooters do, migrating a bit, following his eye and his heart, and seeing how his formidable skills translate aloft. He’s not really abandoning his vast legacy as a natural history shooter, he’s just adding another chapter in the adventure book.
Me, I’m heading back to concrete. It’s been a wonderful ride, being on the faculty of DLWS. I visited parks and places (and yes, rocks and stumps) that I would not have encountered otherwise. You see, no magazine editor in their right mind would think of me first to go do a story on Yosemite Park, or the great lighthouses of East Coast. (Unless they made the assignment in the afternoon, and they had belted a few at lunch. That’s been know to happen in the world of journalism.)
I always had a bit of a cheeky attitude towards wandering around a park, teasing Moose that “I never met a landscape I couldn’t make better by putting a person in front of it.” But, truth be told, it’s been a thrilling ride throughout the natural wonders of this country. I’ve actually made some good landscape photos, mostly because I occasionally had the good sense to stand next to Moose’s tripod, and peer at his settings over his shoulder.
So, now, at the conclusion of the last of these workshops, I did in fact put a person in front of a landscape. My good friend Moose, out there on the highway. A portrait that’s a bit of both worlds–standing on a seemingly endless, battered ribbon of tarmac, bounded by sage, scrub, mountains and sky. For the technically minded, this is two SB900 flash units, a white interior 24″ Ezybox, and a little skip fill off a tri-grip on the road. Good light, which is something Moose knows quite a bit about.
Be well, and shoot straight, my friend. Continue to enjoy this wander with a camera in your hands, even now, as it leads you into the clouds. More tk…