Yet another Northern Lights and Autumn Colours of Lapland photo-tour and what a lucky group we were too! The vibrant colours of birch, aspen and rowan were all around and contrasted beautifully with the cloudless blue sky we experienced for much of the trip. In fact, you could argue it was too sunny at times! However, clear skies in the evening mean only one thing at that time of the year and that far north – aurora borealis!
We began in the region of Muonio, in Finnish Lapland, miles from anywhere. A stargazers paradise! No light pollution and crystal clear skies make this the ideal place for astro photography and for group member, Jill, to keep us all informed of the various constellations. Beats an app any day!
Soon after our meal on the first evening we were off to a favourite location of mine, a lake just 15 minutes away that presents many compositional opportunities. We weren’t to be disappointed with an almost constant display for several hours. It’s was great for everyone to witness this extraordinary phenomenon on the first night. It puts everyone at ease (especially me!) and everyone can relax safe in the knowledge that they have not only seen the northern lights but bagged some really good images too.
Our following days were filled with visiting pristine forests, lakes, rapids, fjord and a lengthy walk up a fell to obtain the most incredible view.
I have to say I have been very fortunate over the years with everyone on my tours getting on so well with one another and this group was no exception. From the moment we landed, joshes and jibs and just all round good humour. Oh yes, and a little photography talk too. Thank you all so very much for making the trip so enjoyable for myself and Dirk. It hardly felt like work at all!
For all northern lights images I used a 14mm f/2.8 lens on a Nikon D750. Although the aperture remained constant at f/2.8 the ISO and shutter speed fluctuated depending on the brightness of the aurora.
Each year, without fail, I take the group to one my favourite places as in a relatively small area there is so much to photograph from incredibly tame Siberian jays to a waterfall and stream. The experience was made all the more special with reindeer soup for lunch, served around an open fire.
Clear skies were yet again forecast and since we were to have a long night ahead and with our cabin just a stone's throw from a huge lake, the group relaxed and photographed through to dusk.
As sunset turned to dusk - and so it began.
And just in case you didn't catch the timelapse in a previous post, here it is again. Do switch on your speakers or put headphones on.
The following evening I decided to keep it local and a fishing hut provided an interesting subject to place against the northern lights.
I always take a powerful LED torch for such occasions and we had lots of fun illuminating it from different angles.
There is just the one long (optional) walk that I ask of everyone to the summit (or at least halfway) of a fell that gives amazing views over Finland, Norway and Sweden. To me, this is real Lapland - scattered rocks and boulders with dwarf birch clinging to the surface.
Our last day began cloudy and with that I took the group to a very nearby location that lends itself perfectly to thee conditions culminating in a vantage point which, once again, afforded incredible views.
I was to stay on a further week to do some personal photography and to seek out new locations for future trips and so once we had taken everyone to Tromso airport, myself and guide headed back to Muonio, 4 hours away. The following morning I caught a bus to Kittila airport where I picked up my car. The weather (and forecast for the following few days at least) was such a contrast to what we had experienced over the previous seven with a drop of close on 10 degrees with cloud and rain. I was a little despondent at first as I had envisaged spending long nights in remote locations on my own photographing the northern lights and capturing sweeping vistas from nearby fells bathed in warm afternoon sunlight. But, you make the best of the conditions and what I wouldn't have been able to photograph under a clear, blue sky, I now could with the soft, overcast light, which presented itself.
Under heavy skies and, especially after rain (during in this case) , northern bilberry leaves seem to glow.
For much of the time, however, it rained - hard! And, although I am most definitely not a fair weather photographer, there comes a time when you just have to succumb to the conditions and seek refuge.
Occasionally, in order to portray the scene more akin to what I was experiencing at the time, I'll incorporate ICM (Intentional Camera Movement). By doing so the image can take on a pastel, almost watercolour appearance. The conditions in which I captured the image, below, were very similar to those above. I parked up beside a lake and, noticing the headland with a few scattered birch trees, took a number of 'static' images. To me, they said little and were nothing more than a mere record. Through movement of the camera during exposure and at a slight angle I believe, ironically, I have captured the scene far more accurately than those I took before when I first arrived.
One of numerous tip-offs I received was a of a location around 30 minutes from where I was staying which turned out to be an exceptional place to spend a few hours - nay, many! The weather was absolutely perfect. Still and overcast. Just the kind of conditions I adore for this kind of work when autumn's slowly coming to a close and when many leaves have fallen and are scattered on the surrounding vegetation except for bright red rowan leaves still clinging to their sagging branches. For the 4 hours or so I spent there I saw not another person (not that unusual for this region). The silence broken only by the sound of the stream.
The colours were vibrant. So much so that when it came to processing them for this blog I would have to reduce the saturation on many. That said, for the most part I will increase or decrease the saturation of individual colours to give a truer representation of the scene. More importantly, how I want it to appear to, perhaps, give emphasis to a particular object (or objects) within the frame.
There is something very special about photographing a location such as that below, confident that very few have witnessed it let alone photographed it. Off the beaten track requiring a walk through a very boggy mire, it’s not a place you notice as you drive by. I came upon it a few days previous (through scouring a map) and could see the potential at sunset. Days had been gloomy but the weather broke just long enough for me to capture the scene before, once again, the heavens opened. 
Another location I was made aware of was of some old fishing cabins which, again, were a relatively short distance from my cabin but hidden enough away that you wouldn't notice them otherwise. Situated (of course!) on the shore of a lake many of these cabins date back several hundred years. Indeed, the original cabins which once stood there date back to the 16th century but, alas, these were burnt down during the war between Sweden and Russia. Today, they are owned and used as they always were by local people.
The setting was wonderful and I settled in for the long haul realising that I was going to be there for quite some time especially since heavy rain and strong winds were forecast for the following day. Aside from the setting the cabins themselves oozed character. Wooden hooks hung from the cabin's exterior as were all manner of traditional fishing apparatus.
With not a soul to be seen and not a sound to be heard I wanted to soak it all up. I was due to leave in two days and I would miss the solitude and above all else - the silence.
After an hour or so one of the owners of the huts turned up. A man named Tapio. He expressed an interest in my photography (a tripod does that) and in his broken English he told me a little about the history of his cabin (which dates back to the 19th century) and invited me in. What an honour I thought. Small and very cosy he tells me he comes here as often as he can. Why wouldn’t you? This is just about as perfect a retreat as you can imagine!
He explained that stormy weather was on its way and he needed to collect his nets before tomorrow. He left his cabin open and said that I was more than welcome to photograph the inside of the door which was covered in graffiti etched into the wood by its previous owners.
Half an hour later I could see that he was making his way back to shore. I really wanted to get a portrait of him and when he returned he happily obliged. My past years of freelancing for the press would stand me in good stead. It taught me to be quick and to direct the sitter. I need not have worried here. Some folk are just easy to capture. I simply asked him to sit on the edge of his bed and look out of the window and he naturally fell into a pose. I took just half a dozen frames and once I had finished he remained seated, turned and spoke to me. "I used to invite my wife but now I don't. I prefer to be alone. A man needs time on his own to think sometimes".
I took his email address and promised to send the image to him as well as look up the species of fish (sikka) he catches which he couldn’t remember the name of in English. It turned out to be whitefish. He'd caught 40 last week. It was to be my last day of photography but those few hours spent wandering around the cabins and meeting this warm, friendly gentleman was to be among the most memorable.
