The Sigma 150-600mm Contemporary Lens for Nikon

The Dilema

Prior to my recent trip to Costa Rica, I spent some time debating whether or not I should bring the Sigma 150-600mm Contemporary lens to pair with the Nikon D850. The choice to bring a super telephoto lens to one of the most beautiful and biodiverse places in the world would generally be a "no brainer", but this lens in particular had me second-guessing. It's heavy, and it requires a lot of space in the camera bag. With the widest aperture being f/6.3 at 600mm, it's not a "fast" lens; It might not be able to handle rainforest lighting conditions, and a teleconverter is out of the question because of the further reduction in light reaching the sensor. It's also not weather-sealed, which could be a problem in the pronounced moisture conditions presented by the rainy season. Would I be able to capture images with a level of quality that justifies the inconvenience, discomfort and risk associated with this lens?

Moisture

I was heading to the rainforest....during rainy season. It rained quite a bit during this trip. Not constantly, but frequently enough that it was a constant concern for which I had to be prepared in terms of both prevention and recovery. My chief concern was protecting the (not weather-sealed) lens during actual rain, for which I acquired some plastic sleeves that could be quickly deployed to keep the camera and lens dry. I did have to use them during some real downpours, and they were effective. Another concern was general environmental moisture, for which I picked up some re-usable silica gel packets to absorb this moisture and keep the gear in my bag dry. The ones I got change color as they absorb moisture, at which point they can be placed in a microwave or conventional oven to be dried out for use again. I used several packets in my camera bag, and had to dry them out twice during a two-week trip, and again once I arrived home. I always had a small quick-drying towel handy to wipe moisture that did make it to the lens body or to wipe condensation from the glass. Condensation was another significant challenge, but not specific to this lens. Would it be worth risking damage to the lens?

Physics

This lens weighs 4.25 pounds (1930 grams). Many of the activities during this trip involved hiking...in high humidity. Adding 4.25 pounds to a backpack, or hanging it around my neck by way of a camera strap, requires some justification. I'm not opposed to sweating, but it had better be worth it. Aside from actual use, I would have to carry this thing in my backpack during travel. An extra 4.25 pounds doesn't sound like a lot, but it ended up being a significant percentage of the total weight of my camera bag. The space it consumed in my camera bag also meant that other items could not come along because they simply would not fit along with this lens. So, it also became a question of what opportunities I might miss (e.g., video) versus what I could possibly capture if I chose to bring this lens. Would missing those other opportunities be worth it?

Lighting

The rainforest is notoriously dark, and even more so during the rainy season thanks to the increased cloud cover. While there are moments approaching ideal lighting conditions, these are unpredictable, and especially so when they need to align with similarly unpredictable encounters with wildlife.

Were there subjects I missed completely because of this lens? Absolutely. One notable miss was an encounter with a resplendent quetzal. We only saw one the entire trip, and it was as cooperative as a wildlife subject could be, but it's perch in the shadows at some distance made it impossible for me to capture it adequately. The only thing I didn't try was the tripod because the sizable crowd attempting to catch a glimpse of this creature precluded the possibility of dropping three legs on the ground; The fully-extended 600mm lens was challenging enough in this situation. In other instances, finding the balance between ISO and shutter speed to achieve acceptable sharpness hand-holding a lens of this size with usable noise levels and adequate exposure was impossible.

Would I be able to successfully capture enough good photos in these condition to justify the inconvenience of the weight or the risk of water damaging the lens?

Results

I did choose to bring it. So, was I able to capture any good images? Yes! And, I had much more success than I expected given the limitations of this lens (and my skill).

These are a small sample of the photos for which I'm glad to have brought this lens along.

ISO 640, f/6.3, 1/500s, 600mm

ISO 6400, f/6.3, 1/1000s, 600mm

ISO 12800, f/6.3, 1/400s, 600mm

ISO 3600, f/6.3, 1/1600s, 600mm

ISO 8000, f/6.0, 1/800s, 420mm

ISO 12800, f/5.3, 1/800s, 240mm

ISO 3200, f/6.3, 1/640s, 600mm

Things I've Learned

In the process of using this lens in these conditions, I've learned a few ways to maximize the possibility of successfully capturing satisfying images with it.

The D850's 45.7mp sensor's resolution allows for some pretty aggressive cropping, which can make up for lack of reach in some cases. For instance, it allowed me in some cases to shoot at a shorter focal length to access a wider aperture to get a better exposure.

I've never really used the Auto ISO feature of any camera, but I have been experimenting with it recently in preparation for this trip. I believe I came away with some shots I would not have otherwise because I might not have been so bold with pushing the ISO if I had managed it manually. 8000? 12800? I had not been comfortable with ISOs in that range because of the associated noise. I did limit it to 12800 though.

That leads me to the topic of noise reduction software. Those higher ISO ranges do in fact result in noisier images. However, the noise reduction technology available today is pretty incredible. Adobe Lightroom, DxO PureRaw, Topaz Denoise and other software like these are very capable of removing noise artifacts from high-ISO RAW images.

I've also been practicing a technique whereby I shoot (hand-held) bursts of photos at atypically low shutter speeds, and finding that I can achieve a higher success rate if I increase the size of the burst as I decrease the shutter speed. For example, at a 600mm focal length, I would typically not choose a shutter speed less than 1/640s, even with the image stabilization in the Sigma, because the chances of me getting a sharp result are reduced due to camera shake. However, I've found that I can get an acceptably sharp result with a shutter speed as slow as 1/400s at this focal length if I shoot a burst of 8-12 images. This means that I can lower the ISO to mitigate the introduction of noise, and still get at least one acceptably sharp image.

I found the autofocus unreliable for shooting wildlife at the longer end of the focal length range in these low-light conditions. I had much greater success using manual focus, which limited me to still or slow-moving subjects. Thankfully, there were plenty such subjects.

Surprises

While my primary target with respect to this lens was wildlife, I was surprised to discover that it performs well for other types of subjects, namely landscapes. I didn't go crazy shooting landscapes with it since I had a 16-35mm with me for that purpose, but I did grab a few when I was either too lazy or too concerned about moisture to execute a lens change.

ISO 500, f/11, 1/200s, 150mm

10-image panorama, ISO 320, f/11, 1/800s, 150mm

Conclusion

The Sigma 150-600mm lens for Nikon (F-mount) is a great value, and used appropriately, is quite capable of capturing high-quality images of wildlife, even in less-than-ideal lighting conditions. The zoom range is a great utility, especially when traveling, and I've found it to be sharp at all focal lengths for at least some apertures at each. You can see from the examples that f/6.3 @600mm produces results which are plenty sharp.

After all has been said and done, I believe I would have regretted leaving this lens behind for this trip. I had been tempted to focus on macro photography if I hadn't brought it. However, it turns out flash is prohibited in many of the national parks and reserves I visited, even with a diffuser, so I didn't end up shooting as much macro as I had wanted to anyway.

While I'm quite pleased with the photos I've captured, the ones I missed are nagging at me a bit. A 400mm or 600mm f/2.8 would be a welcome addition to my quiver of lenses...

A Reminder to Practice Consistency

As I've been reminiscing recently on the memories of our month on the Big Island this time last year, this photo from Hawaii Volcanoes National Park came to mind. It hadn't been among my favorite captures from that adventure, but I decided to try a wide aspect ratio crop to accentuate the element I like most about it...the stark contrast between the solid, dark lava rock and the fluid, light blue sea water crashing thereupon. I have a new appreciation for it now, and not only because of all the life metaphors with which it has been flooding my mind.

These cliffs are being gradually eroded by the relentless assault of the sea. Day by day, countless waves pummel the lava rock cliff faces with great force. The impact of each individual wave is imperceptible, but their cumulative impact over time is powerful enough to devour what appears to be an indestructible body, even an entire island composed of lava rock.

As I considered this, my desire to be consistent with the various areas of discipline to which Ive committed myself was renewed. These areas include, but are not limited to diet, exercise, prayer, and personal growth. In each of these areas, I make multiple choices every day. For each individual choice, there is no immediate perceptible result (though sometimes a single choice may be the crossing of some threshold following hundreds of previous related choices, by which there is then some tangible result). Over time, the effect of these seemingly fruitless choices accumulate until the motivating goals are eventually realized. Consequently, every contrary choice I make only serves to delay these realizations. If I make enough of these contrary choices, I can prevent those realizations altogether. I need to remain consistent despite the lack of immediate feedback, trusting that the results will come, resisting the momentary temptations to choose comfort over growth which are also sure to come.

 

This is a different view of some of those same cliffs. In this one, you can see the Hōlei Sea Arch, itself the result of those relentless waves eroding the cliffs, created approximately 550 years ago according to the National Park Service. One day, this arch will collapse entirely into the sea as a single wave finally breaks it, but as I've explained, that result will really have been the cumulative effect of countless waves over many years; It will have been the result of consistency.

Wandering into Astrophotography

Bodie Island Light Station
ISO 1250 @15s

I recently made my second attempt to practice astrophotography, specifically trying to capture the galactic center of the Milky Way. We can't capture the entire galaxy since we're also within it, but we can see the center at times.

My first attempt was near the summit of Mauna Kea on the Big Island of Hawaii earlier this year. I wrote about that experience in my Encountering the Extraordinary post. This second attempt was during a recent visit to the Cape Hatteras National Seashore along the Outer Banks of North Carolina.

Even though I'm just learning about this type of photography, I was able to get some images with which I am really pleased. With additional equipment and techniques, I could get even better results, but it's amazing what can be achieved with only a big sensor, a fast lens and a tripod. For this session, I used the Nikon D850 with a Nikkor 20mm f/1.8 lens.

The inclusion of the Bodie Island Lighthouse posed some challenges. Getting satisfying images required a bit of trial and error due to the bright light emanating from the lighthouse. I experimented with ISO values, exposure times, and also with timing the shots relative to the period of the lighthouse emissions.

Less Light from the Lighthouse
ISO 1000 @15s

Still Less Light from the Lighthouse
ISO 1000 @20s

Minimized Light from the Lighthouse
ISO 1250 @15s

The following two were taken farther away from the lighthouse, such that I could leave the shutter open longer without the light from the beacon blowing out the Milky Way. I also like the way the Milky Way aligns with the lighthouse in these, rather than alongside as it is in the others. The only real difference between these two is the application of light-painting of the foreground. In the second image, I used my headlamp to illuminate the boardwalk and surrounding grass briefly during part of the exposure.

 No Foreground Light-Painting
ISO 1000 @25s

Foreground Light-Painting
ISO 1000 @30s

So, a bit of a drive very early on a peaceful summer morning, about an hour of actual photography, a bunch of mosquito bites on my feet and ankles, and I came away with some satisfying images. Looking forward to the next time...

New Print Collections Available

Print collections are separate from the regular portfolio section of my web site in that I’ve printed the associated images to prove to myself that they meet my own quality standards. Of course, if anyone sees an image in the portfolio for which they would like a print, that is always a possibility. However, in general, the print collections represent those images I consider to be good enough to offer for sale in the sizes presented.

I’ve recently added two new print collections. Both contain images from my time spent on the Big Island of Hawaii in January and March of this year.

Big Island Sunrise Seascapes Collection

This is currently a two-image collection, but I’m working with one or more additional images which would also fit in this collection if they pass my quality bar.

I’ve recently had these two printed on 0.4mm cotton fine-art paper in 12”x18”, and the results are well beyond my expectations. (They’re available, ready to ship if you’re interested.)

Holēi Sea Arch Collection

This is a single-image collection, and given its aspect ratio, is only offered in 4 sizes.

This sea arch has a limited lifetime, as the erosive waves that created it continue to buffet the structure until, eventually, it will crumble into the sea. Then, all that will be left is images like this one to testify to its existence.

Capturing vs Experiencing

Lyman's Surf Break, Kona, HI

As I was recently editing some video from our month on the Big Island of Hawaii, I thought of all the experiences that I did not capture with video. It prompted me to consider the ever-present tension between my desire to capture an experience and the equally strong desire to fully engage in that experience.

As someone who likes to be an active participant in experiences, I am frequently faced with this rather complex dilemma. Do I bring the camera along? If so, which lenses should I take? And the tripod? Filters? Or, would I rather allow myself to fully experience whatever it is that I am about to do, unburdened by any of the concerns associated with capturing it?

The creator in me ALWAYS wants to bring the camera along because I never know when I’m going to encounter something unique, and of course I’ll want to capture and share it with others. However, the participant in me ALWAYS wants to enjoy the experience unencumbered by concern for camera gear or lighting or composition or shutter speeds, etc...

Capturing obviously entails the gathering and subsequent carrying of the necessary gear. Whether it’s simply a camera hanging from a strap around my neck or a full backpack of creative possibilities, the gear will make the activity at least a little less comfortable. Then, the concerns for the safety of whatever gear I’ve decided to bring along; Will the experience present the potential for damage or loss? If I lay the gear aside to momentarily engage with the experience, could someone steal it? If I'm with others, how will my decision impact their experience? These are some of the things I consider when choosing whether or not to capture an experience.

This inner imbroglio is magnified when others are involved in the experience. In these cases, there is a desire to share the experience with my companions. If I'm focused on capturing, then I'm not fully sharing the experience, especially with my tendency to hyper-focus. Perhaps less obviously, there is also a fear of detracting from the experience of others. Frequent stops along a hike, for instance, to grab a photo or video, swap lenses, dig out the drone and other such tasks can be annoying to companions who are not concerned with capturing the experience (though they typically appreciate having it captured after the fact). Even if this sense of detraction is only felt internally, the fear of it is nevertheless present for me.

So, I make the choices, even if I am uncertain that they are correct in the moment, and I try not to dwell in regret when those choices turn out to be less than ideal. Sometimes, I bring the gear and never take a single photo. Other times, I leave it all behind, and miss an opportunity to capture something special. In the end, as long as I'm alive, a missed opportunity is motivation to experience that thing again (if possible). I have to say that spending a month in a place drastically reduces the anxiety associated with these choices. Most of the time, when we're traveling, we're only experiencing a place one time before hurriedly moving on to the next in an attempt to squeeze it all in. That month spent on the Big Island of Hawaii afforded me the ability to revisit multiple places so I could actively experience them with others AND capture them without guilt. I think I would like to take this approach to travel more frequently in the future.

This photo from the surf break known as Lyman's in Kona was one location I visited multiple times. Some times, I went there to surf. Other times, like the time captured in this photo, I brought only my camera gear. For me, having had the participation experience there enhances the feeling I get when I view this photo. I would guess that no one thinks this particular photo is as beautiful as it is to me. This is something else I would like to repeat.

Am I the only one who struggles with this?

Encountering the Extraordinary

 

The galactic center of the Milky Way viewed from the Mauna Kea Visitor Station

What's the Story?

This solitary heliotrope tree caught my attention as I sauntered along the beach taking in the Kailua-Kona sunrise. Spending some time observing it stirred up a lot of questions:

How deep are its roots?

How much sand is there before the ground becomes solid lava rock?

Do the roots need to access fresh water or does it process salty water?

Had there been other trees here which were unable to endure as this one has?

It’s a simple tree. It is not famous. There are no placards testifying to its significance. It is mostly unremarkable, but it has a story, and I’ll never fully know that story, but I can infer some of it based on what I can observe.

A lot of us are like this tree. Mostly unremarkable, certainly so from a distance, and perhaps more so when we’re disconnected. However, we all have a story, and it’s worthwhile to acknowledge this fact, especially as we encounter others living from the experience of their particular stories. Considering this can inform how we choose to respond. Further, taking the time to learn others’ stories can reveal just how amazing people actually are, and sometimes give us the courage to move forward along the timeline of our own respective stories.

I’m thankful for having had the opportunity to spend some time with this tree. (The sunrise was pretty spectacular too.)

Introduction

This past year, I came upon a word I don't hear used much any more: saunter. While the etymology of this word is obscure, I like to believe a theory repeated by those such as John Muir and Henry David Thoreau is accurate, though I'm convinced it actually is not.

"Do you know the origin of that word 'saunter?' It's a beautiful word. Away back in the Middle Ages people used to go on pilgrimages to the Holy Land, and when people in the villages through which they passed asked where they were going, they would reply, "A la sainte terre,' 'To the Holy Land.' And so they became known as sainte-terre-ers or saunterers. Now these mountains are our Holy Land, and we ought to saunter through them reverently, not 'hike' through them." The Mountain Trail and its Message (1911)

Regardless of its origin, the meaning of this word is well understood today.

saunter /sôn′tər/

intransitive verb

1. To walk at a leisurely pace; stroll.

noun

1. A leisurely pace.
2. A leisurely walk or stroll.

The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, 5th Edition

I like this distinction between hiking and sauntering, and I would say I prefer to saunter through the wilderness/nature. Ask any reasonably good landscape/nature photographer how to improve one's photography, and among the list of tips, you'll likely find the advice to sit with a place for some time to identify a good composition. Sauntering allows time to sit with a place or places.

That brings me to the light portion of this blog's name, and it is two-fold.

First, as a photographer, I am always looking at light and its effect on my surrounding. Sometimes, even absent a proper subject, I am captivated by what the light is doing to my environment. Sauntering affords me more opportunity to notice the light and its impact. After all, photography is about light; Observing it and capturing it.

Second, this notion of sauntering with light brings to mind a related concept found in the Bible.

But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin.   (1 John 1:7)

for you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord; walk as children of light   (Ephsians 5:8)

As I live my life each day, spending some of that time observing the physical light around me, I'm also mindful to walk, albeit imperfectly, in the spiritual light of Jesus Christ; That is, the light of the world. For me, this fits nicely with the notion of pilgrimage associated with the aforementioned theory about the origin of the word saunter. While sauntering is leisurely, it seems less aimless to me than wandering. There is still purpose, a reason to move, but less urgency to get there. I've been learning to concern myself less with destinations and outcomes while focusing more on the journey. The journey is where we are tested, where we learn and where we grow. That's a topic for another post though.

This intention of this blog is to share my photography, thoughts and discoveries as I saunter with light.