It is estimated that there are over seventy significant waterfalls in New Hampshire, each bringing their own unique orientation, character, style, and voice. What makes New Hampshire’s collection special is that they tend to be tucked into the mountains and require a bit of hiking in order to reach. They’re also characterized by their juxtaposition of green foliage against rocky granite. Some falls in the collection appear quite wild, if you will, since they’re subject to brutal winters and other occasions of harsh weather. This can present a challenge to the photographer who wishes to show tranquility and calm through her waterfall photographs.

I remember my first waterfall season as a serious photographer. Looking at my list of New Hampshire waterfalls I recall thinking to myself, I could capture all of them this year if I just put some time and effort in. But each one has its own challenges, and by and large not every day is a perfect day for shooting waterfalls. Each artist will find that it takes work to get their own preferred angle, light, and conditions in order to best interpret each set of waterfalls.

A playbook of tips and methods are out there in print and on the web which cover “how” to shoot a waterfall. In the upcoming weeks, my New Hampshire landscape photography blog will cover some of my techniques, as well as timing, equipment, locations, stories, and more. Subscribing through your favorite feed reader will make it easy to keep up, but don’t forget that I’m active on Facebook and Twitter as well. As prime waterfall shooting season settles in, I hope to help you hone your technique and find a few waterfalls that really speak to you.

Swing by again soon for more on New Hampshire’s incredible waterfalls and this exciting season. Until then, happy trails and be well!

Summer months see the Ravine transform into a lush, green paradise complete with rare and colorful wildflowers and enormous plunging waterfalls. Tens of thousands of travelers visit the Ravine during the peak hiking season, many of whom are on their way up to the summit of Mount Washington. But during the winter, the Tuckerman Ravine is a barren and frigid wasteland. A reliable wind pulls snow off the summit of Washington and into the Ravine throughout the winter, and snow accumulations bury nearly everything within the cirque. There is a constant possibility of avalanche, and temperatures rarely make it out of the single digits in the dead of winter. Standing upon the floor of the Ravine in the winter, it’s nearly inconceivable that anything could ever grow among such harsh conditions. But it does.

While Tuckerman Ravine gets most of its accolades from its reputation for late-season, no-holds-barred skiing and riding, I am personally drawn here for a different set of reasons. Don’t get me wrong; I’ve done quite a bit of snowboarding in the Ravine (although I’ve never joined the weekend hoopla during late spring, and I’ve never brought a six-pack of beer along for my hike/ride). But by and large, I am drawn to Tuckerman Ravine because of its beauty, and its offerings in the way of science and nature.

The Ravine is quite literally a photographer’s dream. There are artistic temptations all the way up the 3.1 mile trail to the floor of the Ravine, from Trout Lilies and the Crystal Cascade during the summer to snowy boulders along the Cutler River in the winter. There are all kinds of places to photograph the Ravine from without having to hike into the Ravine itself, too (although each worth-while vantage point presents its own challenges in reaching). I’ve had great luck from a variety of locations like Boott Spur and Wildcat Mountain. However, undertaking the hike into the Ravine affords an abundance of subject matter. During late June and early July, Mountain Avens and Rhodora (among other wildflowers) will lend their colorful accents to the thickets, and the waterfalls in the bowl are breathtaking in their loftiness. Add some early or late day magic to the equation and the photographs help to further transcend Tuckerman beyond its ski-party image (keep in mind, I don’t disapprove of responsible outdoor recreation). Tuck’s the kind of place that has appeal from so many angles that as a photographer, it presents a classic dilemma of wanting to be in two or three places at once.

What the Ravine gives us in the way of science is not only a glimpse into the past, but hope for great things in the future. We can discover the past by studying the geology and the natural communities in Alpine areas such as this. While much has already been uncovered, there are still yet a plethora of unturned stones, so to speak. As far as the future goes, it is in the best interest of all for Tuckerman Ravine to be rich with biodiversity. Biodiversity is an important tenet in both the survival of natural communities, and the derivation of their benefits. So as I sit here and write this piece, of course there is a big part of me that wants my children to grow up in a world where Tuckerman Ravine is resonant, healthy and rich; but it’s more than that. Places like Tuck’s may very well hold treasures that are indispensable. For example, it is widely believed that critical keys to the fight against such scourges as cancer and AIDS reside right under our noses, in the natural world. Human impacts will limit, or worse, eliminate these possibilities. Furthermore, I simply believe that a diverse planet is a healthy one, and isn’t that fairly important in and of itself? It is my hope that by first being a kind a caring steward myself, and next being an artist, I can make the case to a few more people that places like Tuckerman Ravine demand our care, our respect, and our love.

For more information about the efforts to protect and preserve this incredible and unique piece of New Hampshire, visit the Friends of Tuckerman website .

For information about the changing winter conditions (particularly avalanche danger), visit the Mount Washington Avalanche Bulletin page.

My most sincere thanks to you for stopping by my New Hampshire Landscape Photography blog; take good care, and spread the good word about the good Ravine, if you will!

First, a short compendium of the year. 2011 started off normally enough with deep cold (I was out in -22 in Jefferson one morning), but seemed to stray off course from the normal weather patterns as the year went on. By the end of the summer, we faced Tropical Storm Irene which devastated homes, business, and hiking trails. Irene also set the tone for one of the most peculiar fall foliage seasons in recent memory. Autumn never really seemed to find its rhythm in the valleys, and one had to travel to the brutal Alpine Tundras to find deep colour. Soon after, winter made cameo appearances the day before Halloween and the day before Thanksgiving, each time dumping well over a foot of snow in some areas. After that, winter never seemed to completely show up in normal fashion. 2011 ended much drier than anyone could have expected, and stick-season (a term we photographers use to refer to the in-between seasons) seemed to never go away.

Despite the challenges there were pockets of brilliance that I was fortunate to be witness to. To that end, I’ve picked my ten eleven best photographs from the year to share with you one last time as we say hello to 2012!

Beyond a doubt, in photography (as with other aspects of life) it is an important and useful exercise to reflect back every now and then. Picking the best landscape photographs from the past year’s collection helps photographers to allow for the necessary time to feel good about their efforts and their results. This can then help to establish a baseline for the new year, and for new goals. I look forward to sharing more images and experiences with you as we dive right in to 2012.

Take care.

At the conclusion of 2011, I didn’t feel as though I hiked enough. But then again, I suppose I’ll never feel as though I’ve hiked enough. So plain and simple, I need to hike more. Likewise, I was a tad slower this year than I have been in years past. Hiking less meant that I filled my time with other activities that are less physical in nature than hiking, so I lost a little bit of the pep in my step. So I feel I could stand to hike a little better. I also found myself visiting a lot of “old friends”, as I call them; places that I’ve to been many times before but find myself returning to for their photographic appeal and epic mountain character. While this is not a foul by any means, it is a boundary that could hold my horizons static, and stifle my exploration of new and enchanting places. As I often tell people, New Hampshire is full of surprises and places worth discovering firsthand. This year, I plan to adopt a Red-Liner’s Philosophy to hiking, meaning that I’ll open up to exploring every mile of every trail without exception. More, better, different.

Study and Read the Work of More Photographers & Writers:

Although I thrive behind the camera, I simply haven’t taken enough time to study the work of other artists. Along those same lines, I write avidly and intently, but I would not consider myself well read. By and large, I am an evolving artist like all other artists, and studying the work of others is a fantastic way to grow one’s own craft. There is an expanding body of knowledge out there for me, and with the ubiquity technology it’s right at my fingertips. I’m starting to crave it, and this year I will seek it out.

Add More Human Elements to My Photographs:

Very few of my photographs include humans, which is not necessarily a bad thing. New Hampshire’s landscapes can do a lot of the speaking for themselves in a photograph. However, some photographs lend themselves well to having human guests. Whether it is to show movement, struggle, or scale, the human element could bare to find its way into a few more of my photographs. I plan to do this more throughout the year.

Experiment With Abstracts:

Otherwise known as painting with the camera, there are delightful ways to create photographs that resemble abstract works. This is done by finding very small subject matter that appear painterly when shot with a macro lens. Abstracts can also be created by moving the camera, finding subjects in motion, and playing with the shutter speed. Each of the four seasons presents opportunities for abstracts, and I’m making it a point to look more closely for those chances.

Complete the Presidential Traverse in One Day:

This one speaks mostly for itself, and requires very little explanation. I bagged the Pemi Loop in 2010, and it’s time for another Death March. The Presi Travers, as it’s known colloquially, consists of over 25 miles of one way hiking that brings travelers over each of the mountains in the Presidential Range. In one day. It’s a grueling trek, and one that can be quite dangerous in the winter. My plan is to aim for a winter pass, and if I can’t do it by the last day of winter in 2012, I’ll shoot for the first days in December later in the year. By and large, the Mountains make the call on whether or not the Presi Traverse is a success, so one must be utterly cautious with such a goal.

Hopefully you’ve made a few resolutions connected to the things that are important in your life. And if you haven’t, perhaps you’ve found this list useful or motivating. No matter what, remember to stay well and take full advantage of all the natural magnificence that New Hampshire has to offer. Take care, and thanks for stopping by my New Hampshire landscape photography and hiking blog!

Here’s to all of you, who have taken the time to connect with New Hampshire’s landscape, and with me, throughout the year.

I wish you all a joyful season filled with laughter, friends, adventure, and all the makings of great memories.

Take care and be well!

This was most certainly the case while driving Route 16 and while along the trail for my annual Harvest Day hike in Jackson this morning. I was captivated by the glistening world, and intrigued by some of the changes. In Albany, a young lady on one of the giant billboards was transformed from a trendy model peddling a stylish scarf and hat set into a sinister and ominous looking character. Her mascara made her look more dead than alive, and she appeared almost criminal. Along the Doublehead Trail, while cutting a fresh snowshoe path in almost two feet of powder, the individual airborne flecks of ice and snow sparkled like tiny gems by the light of my headlamp. On top of North Doublehead, the transition from light to dark at sunrise today was an definitive sort of example of the difference between twilight and daytime; there was a nearly distinctive line drawn directly on the skyline separating the red and purple of day from dark blue and grey of night.

Today, on Thanksgiving, I am thankful for many things. Among them, I am thankful for light. Not only for light itself, but for its uncanny and magical behavior. It’s mornings like this which reaffirm for me that darkness often isn’t as much a cloak as it is a veil. Rarely is darkness a pure absence of light, and thus it makes an already beautiful world all the more interesting; and when it gives way to light, all the more photograph-worthy.

Thanks for stopping by to visit me here on Thanksgiving day at my New Hampshire Landscape Photography blog; I’ll see you again soon!

What is a gallery wrapped canvas?

It is a high quality print on an artist’s canvas.
The canvas is stretched over custom-made wood stretcher bars.
It is available in any size with a depth of 1.5″ or 2.5″.

What’s so cool about gallery wrapped canvases?

Canvases make a bold statement.
They appear to float on your wall.
They don’t need a frame; the structure is inside the art.

Here are FIVE canvases that I’m releasing for Black Friday Weekend starting on Wednesday the 23rd (read on, there’s MORE)!!:

To order, simply click any of the images above, or feel free to email me directly and I’ll take care of everything for you!

Pro Tip: You’ll receive a 15% DISCOUNT if you enter the code ILOVENH at the checkout!! Now THAT is a heck of a deal! Specials start on Wednesday, November 23rd and are good through Sunday at 11:59pm (which ought to cover the Black Friday spread)!

Happy shopping, my fellow travelers!

For an enjoyable family-friendly outing, consider exploring the Artist’s Bluff & Bald Mountain Area, followed by The Basin. Each is within about 10 minutes of the other, and offers the best of both worlds in the Bluff’s grand vista, and The Basin’s tranquil succession of cascades. A full loop of over an hour and about 1.7 miles can be made of the Artist’s Bluff by first visiting the famed overlook, then continuing on to the top of Bald Mountain (note: be cautious on the way up Bald, particularly on the steeper humps of granite). Beyond the summit, the trail descends back toward the 34C parking lot for Cannon Mountain to complete its loop. Footing beyond the summit is really never difficult.

The Basin turns out to be a great way to relax following the hike up and over Bald Mountain. The central feature of this area is a tremendous granite pothole that is believed to be the result of erosion provoked by the North American Ice Sheet over 25,000 years ago. Over time, its features were smoothed out by Little bits of matter flowing along the Pemigewasset River.

My two-and-a-half year old son, wife and I found this circuit to be incredibly enjoyable over the course of a few hours this morning…even though it’s late November!

Happy trails, and until next time do take care of yourself!

In order to build up the Summit Photo of NH fan base I’ve decided that I need YOUR help! Many of you are faithful readers and followers of my blog, Summitblog, and most of you are already fans on Facebook. Perhaps you’re not, though…and perhaps you’ve just stumbled upon this page through a google search, or even a typo in the URL bar! However you landed here, you have a tremendous ability to help me get the word out about my work, and I’m looking to turn that potential energy into something kinetic!

Official Rules:

From now until December 30, 2011, I’d like to kindly ask you to help me build my fan base by recommending, sharing, or even tagging on the Summit Photo of NH Facebook fan page. Think your efforts resulted in a new fan? Send me an email, a message on Facebook, or reply on this blog and you’ll be entered into a drawing this free 8×10 canvas print of Mount Washington!

Winner will be announced by January 6th, 2012!

Click here to become a fan of Summit Photo of NH on Facebook!

The mind wanders, though this drifting is not at all aimless, and an internal dialogue manifests that at times leads to profound benchmarks in our lives. In the company of others, these conversations might unfold aloud and you may find yourself talking about politics, love, or even about God(s). These are exchanges that could never happen in quite the same way under fluorescent lights, within the cubicle cages, or at a summertime barbecue.

Furthermore, when you find occasion to pause, perhaps at a peaceful rivulet or on top of a ragged precipice, and really take a good look around once the mind has been stripped of the minutia, a true sense of our smallness and our insignificance sets in; or perhaps it’s that the universe is simply incredible, and immense beyond comprehension. Whichever way you look at it, you come to realize that although you may be but only a brushstroke in the fresco, life is at once incredible, and incredibly complex. In large part the complexities arise because of the meaning that we add to the existing physical world. It is at this point that the hiker’s dialogue proves to be important; just as much so as other, more ubiquitous conversations. I know that it seems tough to resolve worldly matters and the discourse of a couple of sweaty hikers as being similarly important; but it’s easy if you try. By and large, this reflection, this reflexivity, this resolution…is part of what makes us human.

While hiking and camping out near Ethan Pond with a good friend this weekend, I was again privy to the treasure of this hiking dialogue. As is always the case, it seems that I’ve come out of the woods knowing a little something more about myself, my friend, and life. Furthermore, I have concluded that if this aspect of hiking is ever lost on me, I will have reached a truly unfavorable point in my life.

As always, thank you for joining me; do take care, and as colder weather begins to set in we’ll be sure to see you again soon.