Good things come to those who wait
Discover how waiting for the right moment can net you the shots of your dreams
The rain lashed against the windscreen as we drove through the beautiful undulating countryside. I was taking my small group of photographers to our base deep in Tuscany for a week’s workshop. Someone mentioned that the weather forecast for the week was rain, which was the last thing I wanted to hear at the start of a workshop. “Wonderful!” I replied, “that’s just what we need. You can’t have rainbows without a little rain.”
As we were getting settled into our hotel, I looked out to see a double rainbow. I alerted everyone to grab their cameras and follow me to capture the rainbow over the valley. What a great start to the week, and the following day also produced another double rainbow.
On the third day we were coming back from photographing villages in overcast skies, which creates a soft light that’s ideal for capturing details. One of the guys asked if I thought we would have another double rainbow today, as it seemed to be becoming an everyday occurrence. It didn’t look likely, with the grey skies, but as we were coming up to the Chapel Madonna di Vitaleta, it was worth a try. As we sat in the van chatting about the day’s adventures a sudden downpour descended. Within minutes it stopped and I noticed cumulus clouds forming. That’s a good sign the weather front is passing and clearer skies are approaching. I told everyone it’s time to set up tripods and cameras and just wait to see what happens. In the distance, I could see sunlight hitting the landscape, so hopefully it was only a matter of time before it would light the scene before us.
Then, as if someone switched a light on, the sunshine hit the landscape and a double rainbow appeared. It looked stunning, but it was difficult to convey it within the context of the chapel, as it made it look too small. I switched from a 24-70mm lens to my 70-200mm and only included a bit of the rainbow. The conditions were changing by the minute and soon something happened that I’d never experienced before. The rainbow started to fracture, with strong sunbeams tracking across the hillside heading for the chapel. I just had to wait and hope the intensity of the light would hold out until it reached the chapel. As I fired off the shutter, I knew we had experienced something special.
Out on a limb
I have an affinity for lone trees in the landscape, so as I’m driving around I make a note of trees with potential, then go back when the conditions are right. The class and I were going out to shoot the Abbey of Sant’antimo when we passed one of my noted trees on the side of a distant hillside. I explained that I’d wanted to shoot that tree for four years, but every year the conditions weren’t right. Today, though, it looked good.
It can be hard to visualize an image, due to your position, so it’s a good idea to imagine what it’s like from different spots. Viewed from the road, the tree was set against the hillside and didn’t stand out, but from the base of the hill, the tree took on a different perspective, standing out on the brow against the sky.
As I watched the clouds drift, I thought it would be interesting to have one right over the tree for a strong symmetrical composition. It was just a matter of time. Eventually, the perfect one floated over…
Landscape photography is a waiting game, and the more you play the game the better your photography.