Eloquent Images by Gary Hart
Insight, information, and inspiration for the inquisitive nature photographer
Hidden Treasures
Posted on January 8, 2026
Clinging Tree, Upper Yosemite Fall, Yosemite
Sony a7R V
Sony 100-400 GM and 1.4X teleconverter (560mm)
ISO 800
f/11
1/1600 second
I’m aware that most of the images I share feature familiar subjects and eye-grabbing vistas that (justifiably) attract thousands of daily visitors and inspire millions of photographs—Nature’s celebrities. But that’s not a complete reflection of my personal photographic instincts. There are several reasons the subjects I share skew toward more acclaimed beauty: for example, the relatively close proximity of that beauty to my home in Northern California; and the obvious fact that I make my living leading photography workshops that I need to fill.
Though celebrated subjects are coveted by the vast majority of nature photographers, today I’d like to issue a shout-out to “ordinary” beauty that doesn’t jump out and grab the eye of everyone present (and doesn’t necessarily inspire people to sign up for workshops). I’m talking specifically about Nature’s hidden treasures that require the photographer to look closer and work harder to uncover. These little scenes may not garner the acclaim of their more spectacular counterparts, but I’ve come to realize that I’m never more content than I am when I photograph them.
Given Yosemite’s proximity, and the fact that I lead 4 to 6 Yosemite photo workshops each year, I probably spend more of my photography time there than anyplace else. But as the years click past, I find that I take my camera out in Yosemite far less than I once did—not because I find it less beautiful, or that I’ve tired of photographing it, but simply because it’s become harder and harder to find the unique scenes I covet. And of course when leading a workshop, my priority is never my own photography. I have to honor the fact that most of my workshop students want to photograph the beautiful Yosemite they’ve seen in pictures, not a leaf, or flower, or tree they could probably find at home.
That said, one of the points I emphasize to my students is trying to make the iconic shots that drew them their starting point, not their goal. So we spend a lot of time, both in the field and in the daily image reviews, on how to see and use the less obvious elements in a scene, with the goal of creating images that are uniquely their own. It’s a mindset that once established, starts becoming automatic.
To jumpstart that mindset, I have certain subtle features I point out at many of the locations I take my groups to—hidden treasures I’ve uncovered over the years that are potentially powerful but easily missed. One of my favorites is this little tree in front of Upper Yosemite Fall, only visible from a certain location on the trail to the bridge beneath Lower Yosemite Fall. It’s been on my radar for decades, though I rarely photograph it anymore. In fact, I hardly ever take my camera on my groups’ walks to Lower Yosemite Fall anymore. But in April of last year, with the fall booming and thin clouds diffusing the morning sunlight, I grabbed my camera bag with the sole purpose of shooting this tree again.
For me this is a telephoto shot, the longer the better. So on the walk back down from the bridge (where we photographed a rainbow at the base of Lower Yosemite Fall), I pulled out my 100-400 lens, added my 1.4X teleconverter, and went right to work. To avoid losing the tree against the dark, wet granite, the key here is waiting until the wind blows the water behind the tree. There was so much water on this spring morning that I rarely had to wait long.
I’m sure I clicked more than 50 frames, repositioning the tree from time to time in both horizontal and vertical orientation. Each time I recomposed, I shot at least a half dozen frames just to get different background water patterns—it’s amazing how much it changes from one second to the next. Pretty soon others in the group joined me, and it was fun watching them get excited about this anonymous little tree that’s so easily overlooked.
Of course the moral of this story is that there are hidden treasures like this everywhere, just waiting to be discovered—and hunting for them is half the fun.
Workshop Schedule || Purchase Prints || Instagram
Hidden Treasures
Click any image to scroll through the gallery LARGE (best viewed on a computer)
Stop the Car!
Posted on November 21, 2021
Autumn Surprise, Upper Yosemite Fall, Yosemite
Sony a7RIV
Sony 24-105 G
1/5 second
F/11
ISO 100
Nature photography is all about identifying and creating relationships—between subjects, or between subjects and their environment. The relationships in some of my images require meticulous planning to align a predetermined foreground subject with a celestial feature like the Milky Way or a rising/setting moon. Other relationships happen when I travel to combine a beloved location like Yosemite with natural phenomena like fresh snow or fall color. And then there are those fortuitous “stop the car!” moments, convergences of time and place that are the product of alert scrutiny and quick reaction.
This image falls into the third, “stop the car!”, category, with maybe a little of the second, location/natural-phenomena thing—because I did definitely schedule my Yosemite Fall Color and Reflections photo workshop to coincide with the moving target of Yosemite’s fall color peak, and this year it worked out perfectly. But what I couldn’t have anticipated was a historic storm dowsing Yosemite with over six inches of rain one week before the workshop, creating spring flow in the falls that just begged to be photographed with the ubiquitous autumn foliage.
My group found this scene on the workshop’s first evening. Driving toward our sunset destination, we popped out of the forest and were treated with our first views of Yosemite Falls. I’d timed our departure from our prior shoot at Tunnel View to allow sufficient time at our sunset destination, but when I saw this towering oak covered crown-to-base with golden leaves, I slowed instantly, driving slowly with one eye on the tree until it aligned with Upper Yosemite Fall. I told everyone this was a bonus stop, and every minute we spent here would be a minute we couldn’t spend at the sunset spot, but got no complaints. And a quick look at the thick clouds told me sunset color was unlikely this evening anyway.
There was also a stand of yellow cottonwoods just left of this tree, providing even more compositional possibilities. Feeling a little less rushed, I encouraged everyone to move around, reminding them that they had complete control of the trees relationship with the fall. A couple of people wandered up the boardwalk over the meadow to the river, but most of the group stayed right on the sidewalk and worked on some version of what you see here.
I grabbed my tripod and Sony a7RIV with the Sony 24-105 (I have two a7RIVs and keep each loaded with one of my two most frequently used lenses, the aforementioned 24-105 and the Sony 16-35 GM) and started with a wider composition that framed Upper Yosemite Fall with the colorful cottonwoods and oak. But going that wide meant more sky and meadow than I wanted, so I soon whittled my composition down to just the oak and waterfall. My first frames had the fall to the left of the tree, but later I moved a little bit up the road for some frames with their positions reversed. This is one of the earlier ones.
For this shot I was careful to position myself so the fall dropped into a notch in the tree’s crown, moving back enough to ensure separation between the two. I also made sure the tree didn’t jut into the sky—I find it jarring when a foreground subject is cut by the horizon and try to avoid it when possible. Other compositional considerations were how much sky and meadow to include. While I liked the brooding clouds, I decided that they didn’t offer enough character to merit a lot of frame real estate. Similarly, I thought the texture in the meadow was fine (it wasn’t a negative), but didn’t think it deserved any more of my frame than the sky. So I composed to minimize the sky and meadow, using them as more of a frame for the top and bottom of the scene. And finally, I took care to keep the brilliant yellow tree on the distant right away from the edge of my frame. With low contrast and an entire scene at infinity for my focal length and f-stop, exposure and focus were easy.
Relationships
Click an image for a closer look, and to view a slide show.
Eloquent Images by Gary Hart 