Sunrise with Wild Horses
September for me means a trip to South Dakota and wild horses, the COVID-19 pandemic has made 2020 an exception. I typically spend the month walking among the herds at the Black Hills Wild Horse Sanctuary. It is there that I guide other photographers up close to these magnificent animals, imparting bits and pieces of photographic information and equine photography tips. The sanctuary is home to more than 700 wild mustangs running free across 11,000 acres of grasslands, canyons and the Cheyenne River. Founded in 1988 by Dayton O. Hyde, it is a non-profit organization that receives no state or federal funding. The time I spend there among the galloping herds is both a labor of love and a contribution to the organization. I believe in what they are doing. In this remote location south of Hot Springs, South Dakota, I spend my time acting as a guide, photographing the horses for their promotional needs and generally doing whatever needs doing on the ranch.
Well before dawn, I typically rise from a sound sleep in the absolute pitch dark of Cheyenne Canyon with the sole intent of capturing horses in the dawn light. Some of the herds are very active in the early morning – others are not. But I know where to find each. The brisk morning temperature was biting and in mid-September snow was predicted within just a few days. The crunch of gravel and dirt was all that I could see as there was no moonlight illuminating my path. I climbed into a sanctuary vehicle and steered up the dirt road. Here I was entering the world of the wild mustang – wild is the key word here. Wild horses, like all animals are unpredictable at best. My vehicle pitched forward following a road through a pine forest high up along the rim of Cheyenne Canyon. Meandering, turning and then emerging out onto an open plain dominated by Sun Dance Hill, the traditional location of the Sun Dance for the Lakota Indians of the area for hundreds of years. Today, the Lakota still gather to celebrate a short distance to the South on Sanctuary land.
Lakota is the proper name for the Native American tribes here in this portion of South Dakota and how they prefer to be referred to. The fur traders in this region gave the local tribes the name “Sioux”. The name, a derogatory term, Sioux is short for Nadowessioux , meaning "little snakes", which was a spiteful nickname given to them by the Ojibwe people, a longtime foe. In South Dakota, there are nine tribes of indigenous people in three language groups. Dakhóta, Lakȟóta and Nakhóta. Within the language group, the word dakhóta, lakȟóta and nakhóta all bear the meaning friend or ally.
As I emerged from the tree line, I could see, though strained due to the darkness and a rime of dust on the windshield that both impregnates into at the same time covering everything, the ghost like outlines of the horses. Slowly walking and nibbling on the Buffalo grass, they almost ignored my initial approach. Buffalo grass is a sustainer of life here for the wild horses and for the American Bison or Buffalo, for which it is named. The grass itself has a protein content of 14% and it vital for the survival of large mammals in an often sparse landscape. The curious ones of the herd have now come to welcome me in my daily forays into the herds populating the sanctuary. Others maintain a safe zone from me. In time they will come close. I hope.
East of me, down a slight hill and behind the Angostura Mountains, a faint glow marked the first dull fingers of light beginning to bathe the landscape in light. I surveyed the scene. On this morning there were no clouds in the sky and the horses were on the high side of the hill. The lack of clouds would reduce the “drama” in the image. I closed my eyes and stood feeling the breeze on my skin, smelling the sage in the air. It was silent, except for the occasional step or snort of a horse. The image I decided, would be a silhouette in the morning light. I would do that style several times during my visit this year. Photography, you must remember, is a thinking process.
A photographer must convey to the viewer without words, the feelings, emotions and sense of place or event. A photographer must also be a student of others as well. In my time here I have learned about the Sun Dance and its importance to the people of the plains. I have learned about sage, yucca and buffalo grass as well. All of this knowledge gives viewers I meet, the backstory to the image and a deeper understanding of the location – a photographer is a story teller.
Decision made, I had to hustle. Normally ISO, aperture and shutter speed are the first thoughts, but I am a photographer free of the bonds of Photoshop. The image must be correct in the camera, leaving me only with the ability to crop, dodge, burn and sharpen (tools that closely align with my traditional wet darkroom training).
My camera is in manual exposure mode, giving me total control over the image. ISO, that is easy, 100. Even though the light is low, I want very good quality, low digital noise and the ability to make a very large print. The low ISO limits my flexibility a bit, but allows me the color control I seek. The camera is set to spot metering as well, my preferred mode. I pick and choose my point of exposure rather than allowing the pre-programmed whim of the camera to make those decisions for me. Yes, the nice people at Nikon do a great job of programming things. But how do they know what I am looking for in an image? The camera will only read the light, it has absolutely no idea what I am taking a photograph of. My shutter speed was going to be no more than 1/80. Fast enough to remove any hand shake from the image and movement of the horses standing stoically in front of me now.
I recognized the horse upon approach. He was un-named and lacked a sponsor. He approached slowly, head low until he was standing next to me. A slow deliberate rise and we were eye-to-eye. I feel a connection, it is a unique feeling to have. The language we speak is visual – I want for cues, as he does with me. In the past he has curiously attached himself to me. Touching my hand to his nose then gently sliding across to his cheek there is a bond, a bond that is without words, between this horse and myself. We live in two very different worlds and share this patch of real estate each year for a very brief time.
I quickly changed the settings on my camera. For white balance, I selected the Kelvin value (K) of 10,000. I am telling the camera that the light is very blue in color. The computer in the camera will add reds and yellows to try and correct the white balance. These colors will enhance my sunrise colors. Years ago, I would have done this with filters but the digital age has lightened my camera bag a bit.
Metering was limited to a patch of sky away from the influence of the great ball of light rising past me on the other side of the mountains. My starting point is typically 3 stops under exposed and then I watch my LCD to quickly adjust the exposure based on appearance with either aperture or shutter speed. More often than not, it is aperture. Once the sun is perching over the horizon, an aperture of f/16 or smaller will often produce a starburst effect in my images for a punch of drama.
Slowly, I crouched down and my equine friend drew silently closer as I clicked through the first few frames with my 17-35mm. Yes, a wide angle lens can optically distort an image, but for this photo I needed a strong foreground silhouette – the horse – and a minimized background – the mountains. The wide angle lens tends to “push” the background away, making my foreground image more prominent. Lenses control perspective. Learning to apply this aspect of photography puts you one step closer to mastery of your craft.
By this time coyotes were singing in the distance. A snort, a turned head and a few more clicks of the shutter and I knew I had an image that would translate what I felt that morning. I sat back in the grass to view my LCD. My friend approached closer, almost wanting to see for himself what I had captured. There was sniffing on the back of my neck and a nibble on my photo vest. Each image is a gift. As a photographer I am an observer asking to be there, to share a moment. To intrude, if just for a moment, into personal space. The horses here reach out to me and to each visitor as if to say “hear me, understand me, protect me”.
Compositionally speaking, I utilized the age old rule of thirds with the horse’s line of sight guiding the viewer across the open expanse of the image. The final image is cropped to 16×32 to create a longer more panoramic feel.
The next morning, I awoke again – the world would awaken a short time later, but I was again headed for Sun Dance Hill. The traditional location of the Sun Dance for the Lakota.
The Sun Dance is the most important religious ceremony of the Plains Indians of North America. It takes place during the Summer Solstice, but preparations are in place long before. The Lakota are a nomadic people and the Sanctuary’s land, where the Cheyenne River flows in all four cardinal directions, was where they historically were for hundreds of years. It is an occasion when otherwise independent bands of indigenous people gathered to reaffirm their basic beliefs about the universe, the supernatural and a commitment to their families. Here, the large herds of bison provided a plentiful food source for the hundreds of individuals in attendance. I could write at length about what I have learned about this tradition, but that would be far too much for a simple blog post.
Emerging from the tree line again, the ghostly silhouettes of horses were atop Sun Dance Hill this morning. I am a firm believer that it is always darkest just before dawn. My hearing is more acute in the early hours - light absent – the other senses compensate for what I cannot see. The smell of sage, the sound of hooves and my own feet in the taller grass. Tall grass can mean rattlesnakes as well, but the cool air of the morning slows them down a bit – prudence, however, dictates being alert.
The sun rose quickly this morning and before I knew it, it was above the horizon. I quickly changed the settings on my camera. For white balance, I again selected the Kelvin value (K) of 7,000°. I chose a lower number than previous as this morning had clouds in the sky. Using a very high Kelvin value (K) with the clouds could have made them look fake or cartoonish. The value of 7,000° was not overpowering and allowed much of the natural colors and textures to still have a presence in the image.
I metered for the bright sun, but positioned myself to have several horses block the brilliant morning glow. This prevented the starburst effect I would have gotten with a small aperture to just a warm glow for the scene.
Well before dawn, I typically rise from a sound sleep in the absolute pitch dark of Cheyenne Canyon with the sole intent of capturing horses in the dawn light. Some of the herds are very active in the early morning – others are not. But I know where to find each. The brisk morning temperature was biting and in mid-September snow was predicted within just a few days. The crunch of gravel and dirt was all that I could see as there was no moonlight illuminating my path. I climbed into a sanctuary vehicle and steered up the dirt road. Here I was entering the world of the wild mustang – wild is the key word here. Wild horses, like all animals are unpredictable at best. My vehicle pitched forward following a road through a pine forest high up along the rim of Cheyenne Canyon. Meandering, turning and then emerging out onto an open plain dominated by Sun Dance Hill, the traditional location of the Sun Dance for the Lakota Indians of the area for hundreds of years. Today, the Lakota still gather to celebrate a short distance to the South on Sanctuary land.
Lakota is the proper name for the Native American tribes here in this portion of South Dakota and how they prefer to be referred to. The fur traders in this region gave the local tribes the name “Sioux”. The name, a derogatory term, Sioux is short for Nadowessioux , meaning "little snakes", which was a spiteful nickname given to them by the Ojibwe people, a longtime foe. In South Dakota, there are nine tribes of indigenous people in three language groups. Dakhóta, Lakȟóta and Nakhóta. Within the language group, the word dakhóta, lakȟóta and nakhóta all bear the meaning friend or ally.
As I emerged from the tree line, I could see, though strained due to the darkness and a rime of dust on the windshield that both impregnates into at the same time covering everything, the ghost like outlines of the horses. Slowly walking and nibbling on the Buffalo grass, they almost ignored my initial approach. Buffalo grass is a sustainer of life here for the wild horses and for the American Bison or Buffalo, for which it is named. The grass itself has a protein content of 14% and it vital for the survival of large mammals in an often sparse landscape. The curious ones of the herd have now come to welcome me in my daily forays into the herds populating the sanctuary. Others maintain a safe zone from me. In time they will come close. I hope.
East of me, down a slight hill and behind the Angostura Mountains, a faint glow marked the first dull fingers of light beginning to bathe the landscape in light. I surveyed the scene. On this morning there were no clouds in the sky and the horses were on the high side of the hill. The lack of clouds would reduce the “drama” in the image. I closed my eyes and stood feeling the breeze on my skin, smelling the sage in the air. It was silent, except for the occasional step or snort of a horse. The image I decided, would be a silhouette in the morning light. I would do that style several times during my visit this year. Photography, you must remember, is a thinking process.
A photographer must convey to the viewer without words, the feelings, emotions and sense of place or event. A photographer must also be a student of others as well. In my time here I have learned about the Sun Dance and its importance to the people of the plains. I have learned about sage, yucca and buffalo grass as well. All of this knowledge gives viewers I meet, the backstory to the image and a deeper understanding of the location – a photographer is a story teller.
Decision made, I had to hustle. Normally ISO, aperture and shutter speed are the first thoughts, but I am a photographer free of the bonds of Photoshop. The image must be correct in the camera, leaving me only with the ability to crop, dodge, burn and sharpen (tools that closely align with my traditional wet darkroom training).
My camera is in manual exposure mode, giving me total control over the image. ISO, that is easy, 100. Even though the light is low, I want very good quality, low digital noise and the ability to make a very large print. The low ISO limits my flexibility a bit, but allows me the color control I seek. The camera is set to spot metering as well, my preferred mode. I pick and choose my point of exposure rather than allowing the pre-programmed whim of the camera to make those decisions for me. Yes, the nice people at Nikon do a great job of programming things. But how do they know what I am looking for in an image? The camera will only read the light, it has absolutely no idea what I am taking a photograph of. My shutter speed was going to be no more than 1/80. Fast enough to remove any hand shake from the image and movement of the horses standing stoically in front of me now.
I recognized the horse upon approach. He was un-named and lacked a sponsor. He approached slowly, head low until he was standing next to me. A slow deliberate rise and we were eye-to-eye. I feel a connection, it is a unique feeling to have. The language we speak is visual – I want for cues, as he does with me. In the past he has curiously attached himself to me. Touching my hand to his nose then gently sliding across to his cheek there is a bond, a bond that is without words, between this horse and myself. We live in two very different worlds and share this patch of real estate each year for a very brief time.
I quickly changed the settings on my camera. For white balance, I selected the Kelvin value (K) of 10,000. I am telling the camera that the light is very blue in color. The computer in the camera will add reds and yellows to try and correct the white balance. These colors will enhance my sunrise colors. Years ago, I would have done this with filters but the digital age has lightened my camera bag a bit.
Metering was limited to a patch of sky away from the influence of the great ball of light rising past me on the other side of the mountains. My starting point is typically 3 stops under exposed and then I watch my LCD to quickly adjust the exposure based on appearance with either aperture or shutter speed. More often than not, it is aperture. Once the sun is perching over the horizon, an aperture of f/16 or smaller will often produce a starburst effect in my images for a punch of drama.
Slowly, I crouched down and my equine friend drew silently closer as I clicked through the first few frames with my 17-35mm. Yes, a wide angle lens can optically distort an image, but for this photo I needed a strong foreground silhouette – the horse – and a minimized background – the mountains. The wide angle lens tends to “push” the background away, making my foreground image more prominent. Lenses control perspective. Learning to apply this aspect of photography puts you one step closer to mastery of your craft.
By this time coyotes were singing in the distance. A snort, a turned head and a few more clicks of the shutter and I knew I had an image that would translate what I felt that morning. I sat back in the grass to view my LCD. My friend approached closer, almost wanting to see for himself what I had captured. There was sniffing on the back of my neck and a nibble on my photo vest. Each image is a gift. As a photographer I am an observer asking to be there, to share a moment. To intrude, if just for a moment, into personal space. The horses here reach out to me and to each visitor as if to say “hear me, understand me, protect me”.
Compositionally speaking, I utilized the age old rule of thirds with the horse’s line of sight guiding the viewer across the open expanse of the image. The final image is cropped to 16×32 to create a longer more panoramic feel.
The next morning, I awoke again – the world would awaken a short time later, but I was again headed for Sun Dance Hill. The traditional location of the Sun Dance for the Lakota.
The Sun Dance is the most important religious ceremony of the Plains Indians of North America. It takes place during the Summer Solstice, but preparations are in place long before. The Lakota are a nomadic people and the Sanctuary’s land, where the Cheyenne River flows in all four cardinal directions, was where they historically were for hundreds of years. It is an occasion when otherwise independent bands of indigenous people gathered to reaffirm their basic beliefs about the universe, the supernatural and a commitment to their families. Here, the large herds of bison provided a plentiful food source for the hundreds of individuals in attendance. I could write at length about what I have learned about this tradition, but that would be far too much for a simple blog post.
Emerging from the tree line again, the ghostly silhouettes of horses were atop Sun Dance Hill this morning. I am a firm believer that it is always darkest just before dawn. My hearing is more acute in the early hours - light absent – the other senses compensate for what I cannot see. The smell of sage, the sound of hooves and my own feet in the taller grass. Tall grass can mean rattlesnakes as well, but the cool air of the morning slows them down a bit – prudence, however, dictates being alert.
The sun rose quickly this morning and before I knew it, it was above the horizon. I quickly changed the settings on my camera. For white balance, I again selected the Kelvin value (K) of 7,000°. I chose a lower number than previous as this morning had clouds in the sky. Using a very high Kelvin value (K) with the clouds could have made them look fake or cartoonish. The value of 7,000° was not overpowering and allowed much of the natural colors and textures to still have a presence in the image.
I metered for the bright sun, but positioned myself to have several horses block the brilliant morning glow. This prevented the starburst effect I would have gotten with a small aperture to just a warm glow for the scene.
