
Grand View, Sunrise at Grandview Point, Grand Canyon
Sony a7R V
Sony 24-105 f/4 G
ISO 100
f/18
1/3 second
Most people who rise before the sun do it because they have to. And sadly, because we’ve been so conditioned by a lifetime of rising for school and work, rushing to “pressing” obligations, the joys of early mornings never seem to outweigh the pleasure of staying in bed.
While I won ‘t pretend that I truly relish a 4:30 a.m. alarm, not only have some of my favorite images come before the sun (or just after), some of my very best memories have as well. I mean, what’s not to love about witnessing twilight’s soft, cool light slowly warmed by the approaching sun, or breathing in the cleanest air of the day, and simply being alone with the purest sounds and smells of nature?
For those who haven’t learned to appreciate the joy of the pre-sunrise world, let me help you reset your bias with a few tips for making early mornings happen:
Of course the joy of sunrise isn’t limited to photography—in fact, the more you can consider any images a bonus, the more you’ll appreciate the experience itself. And ironically, in the long run, lowering your photography expectations will result in more great images. That’s because when your prime goal isn’t photography, you’ll go out even when the conditions don’t look good, and put yourself in position for Nature’s frequent surprises.
Some of my most memorable sunrises have happened on mornings I’d have skipped if I’d relied solely on weather reports, or on the way things looked at bedtime or when I peeked out the window after the alarm. I could cite many examples, but the perhaps the most memorable came the morning at Grand Canyon when I captured (among many, many images) three simultaneous lightning bolts and small rainbow fragment in a single, 1/3 second frame.
The weather report for this morning had called for clear skies, with no chance of rain. With photography expectations low, Don Smith and I headed out to meet our group for the workshop’s final shoot, simply looking forward the sensory pleasures of a Grand Canyon sunrise. So boring was the forecast, I’d considered just leaving my camera in the room, and several in the group opted to stay in bed. But on the walk to Bright Angel Point, we could see the lightning illuminating the darkness above the South Rim and quickened our pace. Turns out there was no reason to rush as for the next two hours we enjoyed a lightning show started in the east and slowly moved westward along the rim, and was still going when the storm ultimately crossed the canyon and moved out of our view.
Last Tuesday my alarm woke me 4:10 a.m., and with no clouds in the forecast, I won’t say that sunrise surprise wasn’t on my mind as my feet hit the floor. And while we didn’t get lightning, we did get enough clouds to catch sunrise color above Grandview Point. For most of the morning I was content to just enjoy the peaceful ambiance, but as the sun approached I returned to my car to get my camera bag.
I’d set my sights on a solitary tree standing sentinel atop a limestone pedestal a hundred yards or so down the trail, and saw an opportunity use it as the third point in a visual triangle that would also include the Colorado River and the rising sun. And with an opening on the horizon, I figured I may as well turn the sun into a sunstar.
Because the sun rises surprisingly quickly and the ideal window for a sunstar is measured in seconds, not minutes, I wanted to be completely set up and ready before the sun arrived. After a little moving around and zooming through my viewfinder, I decided on a composition with my 24-105 lens that used a focal length of around 50mm. Unfortunately, while the 24-105 is my most frequently used lens, it’s not the best sunstar lens, especially zoomed out to 50mm.
For a good sunstar, I went with f/18, which was also was helpful for my composition’s challenging depth of field. I pulled out my hyperfocal app and determined that at f/18 and 50mm, the hyperfocal distance was about 15 feet. The tree was about 20 feet away, but since hyperfocal data uses old parameters (based on 8×10 print viewed from about a foot), when possible I try to factor in a buffer that increases my margin for error. In this case I knew focusing 30 feet away would still put the tree well within the zone of “acceptable sharpness,” while giving me more distant sharpness.
The problem was, there was nothing in my frame that was 30 feet away, so before the sun appeared, I popped my camera off the tripod and pointed at a tree outside my frame that I guessed was about 30 feet away. I then magnified the resulting image in my viewfinder to verify the front-to-back sharpness.
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Wow!
Absolutely beautiful!!! WOW!!!
Beautiful captures, and thank you for sharing the basic specs! 📸🤩
Thanks Gary!!