I shut my eyes and ran like hell!

I can count on one hand the amount of sunsets I've photographed. I've always thought that capturing them 'on film' doesn't do them justice so I've never bothered. This was, I think, the first exception to my rule.

For several years during the late nineties/early 'naughties' I was the photographer for the Australian Science Festival which was held annually in Canberra. This meant jaunting off to Canberra for a couple of weeks every year to photograph all manner of things 'science'...sunsets not included, though.

This photo came about late one afternoon when I was walking back to my car, which was parked in a large, open carpark in Civic (what Canberrans call the CBD), after a job. I could see the spectacular orange colour filling the sky and thought nothing of it. Like I said, I normally leave sunsets (and sunrises) alone.

However, when I turned a corner and saw the striking pointy shape of Telstra Tower, a large telecommunications tower on the summit of Black Mountain, silhouetted against the orange, my photographic juices started flowing. I knew I had to get a photo of the scene.

The only problem was that between myself and Black Mountain/Telstra Tower was power lines, several trees and a small, very low hill. I wanted a totally clear shot of the scene but all I had in front of me was mess.

I started to panic - I knew I didn't have much time to play with before it was going to be all over. I took a couple of photos in case it was all I was going to get but deep down inside I wasn't happy and knew I needed to do better - this meant having to get to the other side of the car park...somehow, anyhow!

The carpark surrouded the small, very low hill and my car, which I was now standing next to, was parked on the wrong side of the hill. I looked at the scene before me and I weighed up whether or not I could live without taking what I knew would be a spectacular photo. It was all there right in front of me but there was still all sorts of mess in the way.

I to-ed and fro-ed about what to do and, before I knew it, I had broken into a jog, making for the far side of the carpark. I kept looking up at the tower but every time I did there was still mess of some sort in the way. My jog soon escalated into a canter as I made my way across the carpark - mess, mess, mess the whole damned way!

All the while the colours got richer and richer and, as the sunset become more and more spectacular, I became more and more obsessed with getting the photo.

I began running blindly, my gaze fixed on the sunset. I was lucky I wasn't taken out by someone trying to park their car.

I finally made it to the far side of the car park where, lo and behold, one last powerline stood between me and an amazing photo.

The one thing I haven't mentioned so far is that running around the bottom of the hill is a 6-lane major road which, at that time of the afternoon, is very busy (even by Canberra standards). This was my one last hurdle between myself and great photo.

The area of hill/car park/road where I was isn't pedestrian friendly, so getting across the six lanes was going to be more of an act of stupidity than bravery. Still, the will brought on by creative juices is a powerful one and I had to get across it no matter what.

With the orange getting even more orange and the juices surging through me, there was finally a break in the traffic and I made my move i.e. I shut my eyes and ran like hell!

When I felt grass under my feet I opened my eyes to discover I was in a place where there was no mess between me and my photo. To say it looked spectacular was an understatement.

I raised the camera to my face and began firing. The sense of relief (achievement) was palpable and what you see here is the end result.

Gear used - Nikon D100, Nikkor 80-200mm f2.8, 800ISO, (I think) 1/250 f8

'Now, where are my keys?'

You'd think that after 20+ years as a photographer, I'd have learnt to never leave the house without a camera. This is especially the case being a news photographer, as we all dread missing the shot of the proverbial 'plane falling out of the sky' (a shocking thing to happen, I agree, but I'm sure you know what I mean).

So, a few months ago my girlfriend and I were heading over to the house of a mate and his wife one afternoon for a few drinks and dinner. As we were walking out the door of my flat, I looked at my tiny camera bag sitting on the table next to the door and thought, 'Nah, she'll be right'.

We arrived at my mate's place and began cruising into the afternoon. They have a deck at the back of their place with a spectacular view through the Story Bridge to the Brisbane CBD. They live in one of the suburbs right next to the CBD, so everything is close and the view is spectacular. It was a cloudy day, and warm, so sitting outside was lovely.

As the afternoon came to a close, the clouds began breaking up and the Sun started peeking through. Within a few minutes the clouds had separated so that the Sun was beaming through onto the TV towers, located atop Mt Coot-tha on the western outskirts of Brisbane. Not only that, the clouds had parted so that the sun lit up in a long and narrow section of the sky behind the TV towers.I immediately thought 'panorama' and then realised my camera bag was sitting on a table several kilometres away. D'oh!

With the conversation flowing, I kept glancing over everyone's shoulders to the setting sun and the spectacular photo I was missing out on. I was kicking myself for not bringing my camera. The one time I didn't have it was the one time I needed it! The annoying thing was, I knew this was going to happen when I had thought, 'Nah, she'll be right', and I was seething.

Then I realised my mate was a photographer (der!) and I turned to him.

'Have you got a camera here I can borrow?' I said, nodding towards the sunset.

Moments later I was trailing behind him as we headed into the house. I began to breathe easy.

We went into a room where he kept his camera gear in a locked cupboard and he stopped.

'Now, where are my keys?' he asked, screwing up his face in deep thought.

My breathing suddenly became less easy. I had visions of the sun dipping below the horizon while my mate went from room to room looking for his keys and there was nothing I could do because it was my fault for leaving my goddamn camera at home in the first place! And it wasn't like I could come back and shoot the photo another day. It had to be then and there!

After much scratching of the head, my mate delved his hand into a desk drawer and brought forth a set of keys. Soon thereafter he handed my one of his cameras with an 80-200mm f2.8 lens and we hot-footed it back to the deck.

I'm a Nikon man and it was a Canon he handed me, so he gave me a couple of 'how-to-use-a-Canon' lessons in the few metres between the locked cupboard and the deck, then let me loose.

I propped myself against a palm tree handily coming up through the deck and took aim.

By now the light was becoming more glorious as the sun sank lower. The clouds opened a little bit more but the light bursting through still maintained a long narrow shape, perfect for the panorama image I had originally envisioned.

Over several minutes I fired off a couple of dozen frames, shooting tight, wide and in-between.

By the time the light began to fade I knew I had something but wasn't sure which was the best frame.

The one you see here was the only one where the Sun was visible but not so bright that it flared out the shot. I couldn't have asked for better.

You'll all be glad to know that, as I enter my 23rd year as a news photographer, I have finally learnt the lesson that, under no circumstances, should I leave home without my @!%# camera!

To see more panoramas like this, visit - www.giuliophotography.com.au

Gear used: Canon 5D, Canon 80-200mm lens, 800ISO, 1/500 sec at f8 (and thereabouts)