What Color is the Snow?

by Carl Heilman II

It was snowshoeing that led me to photography in my late teen years back in the mid 1970's. I had recently started doing some hiking on the summer trails in the mountains near home, and wanted to get out and explore in winter, too. The thought of putting pine tar and wax on a pair of skis just didn't appeal to me - I wanted a simpler way to get out and wander through the woods. I preferred finding my own path through the woods anyhow, and just didn't want to get involved in the maintenance of a pair of wooden skis (all that was available at the time!). Funds were running a bit low at the time, and I've always been a bit of a do-it-yourselfer; so, after some research into the project, I made myself a pair of snowshoes and headed off into the wilds. After enjoying a couple of day trips into the woods, wandering and climbing around the small mountains near home, I felt strongly drawn to head out and explore the rocky, snow-capped mountains I kept seeing to the north. . .

Whenever I remember back to my first climb on snowshoes in the High Peaks, I can still rekindle those same passions that I felt while leaning into the wind on the bare alpine summit, with the vast snowy panorama of the Adirondack wilderness surrounding me. I remember wanting to become a part of the landscape . . . wanting to be able to just lift up and soar with the wind over the rugged beauty of the mountains. . .

Almost another year went by before I was able to purchase my first camera, a Minolta SRT 101. The camera was quite simple compared to the mini-computer cameras I work with today, but it was solidly built - a real workhorse of a camera . . . and just about as heavy as one, too! I bought some Kodachrome and started taking photos in early fall. My first roll of film that came back from processing evoked quite a mix of excitement and disappointment. While I experimented a lot over the next several years, the quality of the images that I got back was still rather hit-or-miss . . . mostly miss, actually! I kept wanting to not just bring back a flat image on film of where I'd been, but rather wanted to be able to stir the same emotions I'd felt while I was there, too.

I eventually found that my search for the perfect image was not only a matter of aesthetics and balance, but was strongly related to the intensity, direction, and color of the light that was available for the image. I've found the images that bring out the most intense emotions for me, are the ones that combine all of the best elements of photographic design with variations in the weather that provide an ever-changing array of landscape moods and colors.

When working with black and white, mood is created by working with textures and varying intensities of light and dark. While I've enjoyed the creativity of working with black and white in a darkroom, I've found that I prefer working with color, and particularly, color transparencies. Creative use of color in slides adds a vibrancy to the image but it adds a certain level of difficulty, too.

Working with color slides is true WYSIWYG (what you see is what you get). There is no manipulation except for whatever filters might be used when the photo is taken. All of my 'lab' work is done out in the field, working with and waiting for the right lighting and weather to come together, so I can open the camera shutter at the optimum time to best record the moment and the mood.

Color is the key element of my photography, and winter can be one of the best times to take advantage of the variety of colors that are available at different times of day. Snow reflects the color of whatever light there is in the sky. On an overcast day, the snow will have shades of gray; in morning and evening light with low broken clouds it might glow red with the low light of the sun. Under twilight the snow can take on a purplish or bluish cast, while in bright sunlight it reflects back the bright white we usually think of snow being, while shadows usually have a bluish cast. Each color tone evokes a different feeling. The soft, orangish and reddish tones of dawn and dusk evoke a gentle, warm feeling that draws people into a scene, even though the temperature may have actually been ten below! Twilight colors on a bright, clear evening add some rather bluish tones to the landscape, giving a much colder feel to the image. The trick with winter conditions though, is to be able to record on film the color you want the film to see.

The most common problem is being able to trick the camera into seeing snow as white. Each photograph we take isn't made up of trees or snow or people, or whatever it is that we're taking a picture of, but rather each image is a record of the light that was being reflected to the film at a given moment in time. The intensity of color that is recorded on the film is determined by the amount of light that is allowed to pass through the lens to expose the film. If the light reflected from any object is allowed to expose the film long enough, it will appear light, or even white. If the amount of exposure is reduced, then that same object will appear dark, or black. The amount of exposure of the film is determined by two mechanical things; the aperture setting of the lens, and the speed at which the shutter opens and closes.

A typical summer outdoor scene is made up of varying shades of green, gray, and blue, with perhaps some gray and white clouds. Overall the whole scene will average out to about an 18% gray. Most camera meters don't see scenes in color (except for the newest high-tech version), but instead react to the intensity of the reflected light from the scene, and will set the camera, or suggest settings to expose whatever it's metering at an 18% gray. If the scene is of all dense green evergreen trees with dark shadows, the camera will try to expose the scene at an 18% gray and will overexpose the image, resulting in the dark greens and tree trunks being washed out and grayish. The other extreme of course is an all white snow scene which the camera will underexpose so the snow becomes muddy and grayish.

Cameras meter scenes in a couple of different ways. The most common metering is with an averaging meter that reads the top, the bottom, and perhaps the center also (center weighted), and suggests a reading based an the average of the whole scene. Another method is a spot meter, which reads just a small section of the image at a given spot in the frame. One of the most 'intelligent' metering systems devised so far is the matrix metering system. This system meters a number of different sections of the scene, determines where the lightest and darkest sections are, and weighs that balance against various programs in memory to determine the optimum exposure.

Whenever I take a picture, I'm always judging the scene to estimate how close to an 18% gray it is. In winter, that means averaging in the amount of white snow in the picture, balancing that with the trees and sky and how sunny it is, and determining how much to overexpose the image compared to what the camera is reading. Typically in a daylight scene where there's a mix of trees, snow, and sky, I'll find the best exposure to be about 2/3 stop above what the camera suggests with an averaging meter system. If a scene is all white, I might overexpose as much as 2 full stops. On gray, overcast days it's best to add an additional 1/3 to 1/2 stop to bring the snow to white and compensate for the reflected gray from the sky. The best way to be sure a picture is exposed properly is to bracket the image, taking a series of photos at 1/3 to 1/2 stop above and below the exposure that's been chosen. If there's still a question, bracket further - the cost of a couple of extra slides is quite minimal compared to the loss of a potentially great image because of poor exposure.

When working with the spot meter in a camera, take a reading from the whitest snow in the scene and then overexpose by 2 full stops. Bracket up and down from there to vary the exposure. Matrix metering will often read a winter scene pretty true if there is a variety of color tones in the scene. It's still necessary to compensate sometimes when the central image is white, or if the whole scene is white.

With fully automatic cameras that have an exposure lock mode, it's also possible to trick the camera to 'see' the snow as white. Either meter off of something that approximates an 18% gray tone, or meter off the palm of your hand. Hold your hand in the same plane as that of the picture you're taking, so that shadows are falling across your hand in the same way they're falling across the picture. Lock the exposure, remove your hand and then take the photo. This might not work with auto-focus, so then try to meter off of something gray in the area you want to focus on. Then lock your exposure and focus, reframe the camera, and take the picture.

These are all suggestions to be used as a starting point for overcoming the problems of obtaining proper exposures of snow scenes. Experiment so you become familiar with how your camera will react in varying situations. Bracket so that even after you're pretty sure of what you're recording on film, you have some extra images to provide for a margin of error! Also, jot down notes on your camera settings in relation to the lighting, so when the film comes back you'll know what worked and what didn't.

Winter scenes, particularly in the daylight, are often full of contrasts. While our eyes see the full range of light from the dense dark green of the winter evergreens, to the soft textures of the bright white snow, film can effectively record only about 1/3 to 1/2 of the range of light that our eyes can see. The result is that when a picture is properly exposed for the snow, all the shadows become quite dark. If the shadows are exposed properly, the snow and the highlights will be overexposed and quite washed out. So, on a sunny day, it's helpful to compose creatively to avoid sharp contrasts of lighting in the image. Work with the highlights and shadows so they'll enhance patterns or detail in parts of the photo, rather than overpowering parts of the picture.

In the early morning or the late afternoon, when the sun is closer to the horizon, the variation of contrast in the intensity of the light lessens, and it becomes easier to record both the shadow details and the highlights. It's also this time of day, when the light is low and soft, that you can more creatively begin working with different colors on the snow. While a bright clear sky will add more slightly harsher bluish tones, a slightly moist atmosphere with a few puffy clouds floating overhead can help reflect some of the sun's light and add a warmer glow to the scene.

Recording the colors of early morning and late afternoon can be easier than trying to record the daylight. When photographing the reflected color of the snow, then the snow will no longer be white, and the exposure will tend to be closer to the camera's suggested meter reading. Highlights will become the color of whatever light is coming directly from the sun. Shadows will take on the color of the light in the sky. If there are a lot of clouds reflecting the reddish rays of the sun, then the shadows will tend to be reddish, or purplish. If the sky is a mostly clear blue, then the shadows will be more bluish. Underexposing the film will saturate the color more fully and intensify the shadows. Overexposing slightly will soften the image and the colors will be more muted. Again, experiment and bracket! It takes a lot of practice in working with the different lighting conditions before a person can fully anticipate just how an image is going to look after processing.

On an overcast day, contrasts are also much more muted and tend to record on film as shades of gray. An additional 1/3 to 1/2 stop above the expected overexposure is needed to compensate for the reflected gray light so the snow is recorded as white. Overcast days add quite a different mood to an image. It's fun to work with detail like snow drifts and ice patterns in this kind of lighting. Snowy branches, or icy grasses or evergreens are always a challenge to photograph in soft lighting, too.

It's helpful to key into the lighting wherever you are, to become more aware of the subtle ways in which it's always changing the mood of the landscape. Not only will this help your photography, but it also helps put us more in tune with the world around us. We often miss so much as we rush from one destination to the next, whether in a car going to work, or on a footpath trying to climb up that next peak.

The more time I spend with a camera, the more I've learned to slow down and observe. There's so much beauty around us, even in some of the smallest details along the trail. While much time can be spent learning about the mechanics of a camera, the most important training is honing our skills of observation and learning to become a part of whatever it is we are photographing. I find photography always helps me slow down a bit, and helps renew my connection with the natural world. Coming back home with some great photographic memories is just a bonus.