Outdoor/Travel

Sorry to bust your bubble, but as you’ll see in the video below some nature documentaries get the Hollywood treatment and aren’t exactly what they seem. Simon Cade, Host and Producer of DSLRguide TV made the discovery while watching an episode of the BBC’s “Planet Earth.”

Ulf Amundsen captured this epic image of a herd of elephants in Etosha National Park in Namibia, Africa. “It was a straightforward shoot during midday in dry and dusty conditions,” Amundsen explains.

Situated just a few miles west of Marion, Ohio, lies Big Island, a 5,800-acre wildlife area. Although the area is mostly prairie, it also contains thick woodlands, marshes, and several open ponds. According to Shutterbug reader Scott E. Zimmermann, it is a “prime” spot for migrating waterfowl and shorebirds, plus it also has a healthy bald eagle population.

Bill Hatcher was near the park entrance when a wildfire forced the closing of Tioga Pass road into Yosemite National Park last summer. “The fire was threatening to cross the road into Yosemite,” he says, “and helicopters and tankers were being sent out on kind of a bombing run to cut the fire off.”

Seventeen news, photographers’ and First Amendment organizations have sent a joint letter to the U.S. Forest Service protesting a move to make a temporary plan to restrict filming in wilderness areas into a permanent rule.

As primarily a landscape photographer Iam often in a situation where I am struggling to give a feeling of scale to big dramatic views. I will look for something to place close to the camera, such as a dramatic flower or rock, to capture the viewer’s attention and draw them deeper into the photo. In some cases, though, I find including a person rather than a natural element within the scene does a better job of it. Not only does the figure add scale, but it also makes viewers feel like they are standing within the scene rather than looking at a print on the wall, a kind of visual empathy.

The arctic sun was just about to make its brief dip below the mountainsto the north when I arrived at a cluster of strange monolithic rocks on the ridge. I cursed myself for not carrying my tripod on the evening hike, but I hadn’t expected to stumble on something quite so strange and photogenic. I braced myself on a tussock of soft tundra and began snapping images of the glowing rocks. I clicked the shutter, recomposed, then clicked again. As I made images, it occurred to me that I was quite possibly the first person to photograph these rocks. They weren’t marked on any map, and the nondescript ridge was just one of many in this part of the range. That, I thought to myself, is one of the great things about photography in the Brooks Range, it was unlikely that anyone had made the same composition before.