Interested in photography? If so, come along while I take you on an extended photo shoot at Fort Foster in Kittery Point, Maine. Here, we'll walk you through everything from dressing warm to discovering interesting photo opportunities on the beach, things you'd probably walk right past without a little guidance.

But, before we go too far down this road, I want to make one thing clear: While the focus here is on Fort Foster, our plan is to run photo tours up and down the Maine coast, and as deep into New Hampshire as Mount Washington in the White Mountains . . ..

In Charge: Tammi the dogwalker doesn't need no leash! (Bill Moore Photo)

The trips to nearby Fort Foster at Kittery Point -- a nine-mile round-trip -- were virtually free, and I had the computer and a photo program in place.

Since then -- besides taking thousands of photos as I work my way toward a major new photography business -- I've turned into a beachcomber with a camera. I go just about every other day to discover and capture Mother Nature's constant changes. I've been out there shooting in virtually all kinds of weather . . . except rain. Water and electronic camera don't go well together.

Just got back from another two-hour trip to the Fort . . . and if you'd like to tag along, I'll charge you $20 an hour and show you the sights and provide photography lessons on the fly.

But, starting right here, I'm going to take you with me on a virtual tour . . . and that won't cost you a penny.

CHAPTER ONE

No matter what the weather, there are a couple of constants when it comes to photography at Fort Foster . . . and this probably holds true whenever you're heading off to a beach that includes rugged terrain and mud flats -- you need a good pair of hiking boots.

First, the boots protect your feet from sharp rocks, but equally important, the mud flats at low tide always have about an inch of water in them when you have to roam back and forth across it. Hiking boots keep your feet dry.

Beach Scene: Here, we have sand and sea in a pleasing combination. (Bill Moore Photo)

What I'm doing most of the time, no matter what the season, is trying to stay warm. I dress in layers and even on the hottest of days, I pack at least a windbreaker . . . because it can quickly become foggy and the temperatures can drop. There's nothing worse than standing on a beach shivering with a camera in your hands!

Occasionally, I lug the big tripod with me. For low light conditions, it's essential to hold the camera steady for shots of the scenery, the Wood Island Lifesaving Station and the Whaleback Lighthouse, or to shoot slow-speed, blur-action pictures of the water flowing down the beach at low tide.

Here's another look at water and sand, mingling, reflecting the sky. (Bill Moore Photo)

But, enough for now.  Please check back for Moore . . . and if you're interested in coming along for a hands-on lesson at the Fort, call me at (207) 703-2086.

CHAPTER TWO

In the summer months, you pull up to the main gate at Fort Foster, and with the correct sticker on your windshield, pass through for free. And the road, through a canopy of trees, ends with you bursting into the light, with the pier just to the left, the Whaleback Light just a bit more left.

In the fall, winter and early spring, you walk in after parking the car in what has now become a cul-de-sac. I always turn the car around, so I can drive straight out.

After parking, it's time to zip up in the winter. On top of the T-shirt, the shirt and the hoodie comes the vest . . . and that's the first to get zipped up, mindful that the hoodie EFFECTIVELY covers any opening at the throat. Then, it's a jacket, a size bigger than I would normally need, but perfect when you're starting to look like the Michelin Man.

Of course, I'm wearing a hat . . . a tight, moth-eaten red woolen thing that is ancient, but in 25 years in California it saw precious little action beyond a ski trip to the local L.A. mountains, and once to Mammoth on the day the San Francisco 49ers beat the Cincinnati Bengals in the Super Bowl with heroes named Montana and Rice.

 I went looking for a new wool ski hat the other day at Dick's Sporting Goods in Portsmouth and came away with a nice blue piece that was a light acrylic made in CHINA. Cost me $13 . . . but I would have gladly spent more for a wool hat. What, do I now have to learn how to knit?

Nearby Portsmouth is building a brand-new Memorial Bridge. (Bill Moore Photo)

And the reason behind that is I normally stick with a single lens, the 75-300 millimeter telephoto.  That lens gets me close enough to the things I find on the beach without having to get down on the sand . . . and it can take me out over the water to the lighthouse and the old lifesaving building without getting my feet (and the rest of me) wet.

I find the 300mm lens indispensible.

If I want something different than what I can shoot with the 300, I generally don't pull one lens off for another . . . (doing that would expose the inner workings of the camera to dirt and dust), but rather I reach into my knapsack (did I mention that 45-pound knapsack that has turned me into a hunchback?) and pull out my little Nikon CoolPix  995. I bought it about 10 years ago for $895. Today -- on eBay -- you can get one for a lot less than that, but go ahead, take a look . . .. I highly recommend it as a second camera.

On this camera -- that has a tilting lens unit and the ability to see what you're shooting on a good-sized LED display -- I've placed a wide angle lens that gives me a different perspective than even a 55mm "normal" lens would give me.

Okay, that's the basics of dressing warm and coming armed with a knapsack and a couple of cameras.

Next, we'll take a look inside the knapsack.

CHAPTER THREE

KNAPSACK

First things first, the two cameras. I put the Canon EOS 50D inside a plastic bag, in this case something I picked up at a gun shop that says Glock on the outside. I wrap this bag around the camera and seat it in the bottom of the bag.

I have a purple  cloth bag from Chivas Regal Scotch whiskey that I use for the smaller Nikon. It has pull strings to close the bag, but I normally wrap the camera lanyard around it, extended through the opening.

Why the plastic bags? They protect the camera from slight bumps and bruises, but I am VERY careful with that knapsack because my livelihood is in that bag . . . but if, say, I was out in a boat, the bag might stay afloat for a few minutes, and the cameras might stay dry. I don't advise testing this theory.

I have been out in a kayak with the Nikon, but I am very nervous about taking my main camera, the Canon, out into harm's way. But, I keep the Nikon inside a sealed Glad bag until I am ready to use it, and then with the lanyard around my neck.

The aftermath of snow on the new span of the Memorial Bridge. (Bill Moore Photo)

I also have several other wide angle lenses that go with the Nikon, a fisheye lens and a close-up lens. The lens that normally stays on the camera is a Digital Optics 0.45mm Pro High Definition With Macro lens. The former woman in my life gave it to me for Christmas a few years ago.

Oh, the basic unadorned lens on the Nikon is 8-32mm.

In the spring and fall, even the summer, I throw the windbreaker, maybe a sweatshirt, into the top of the bag, with portions draped down on the side that makes contact with my back . . . for comfort and to provide the cameras a bit more protection.

On top of the lenses and the cameras, I carry with me extra batteries for the cameras, along with extra memory cards. And, here's something important: The memory cards I use are only four gigabytes, NOT huge cards because with a big-byte card you might shoot all day with it . . . and one major failure would leave you with nothing to show for all your hard work. 

One other important thing here is that the time to download a big card would be enormous . . . better to download smaller cards and space them out around the other things in your life.

When I get back from a trip to Fort Foster, the memory card is pulled and put into a SanDisk card reader and plugged into the computer. In addition, I pull the battery and start recharging it . . . so it will be ready when I need it. Then, I make myself a cup of tea.

All of the other things in my knapsack have to do with food and the possibility of a slight injury . . . a couple of energy bars and a few Bandaids, along with a tube of antibiotic like Bacitracin. A major calamity would be beyond my capacity to survive it with the things I could carry in the bag . . . so I'm careful out there.

For my treks to Fort Foster, I don't carry water with me . . . but for longer adventures, I would at least have some bottled water in the knapsack, with a couple more in the car.

Oh, a couple of other things that are important: A Swiss Army Knife with everything from Philips head screwdriver to a corkscrew to open a bottle of wine. If I am going to be out early, or possibly into the evening, I carry a small Smith& Wesson flashlight

I carry with me a small aluminum tripod with expandable legs. It fits in the smaller of the two knapsack compartments.

In bug season, I never leave home without Ben's Max Formula 100, tick and insect repellant, in the small orange spray container.

Even on the hottest days, I carry at least a light windbreaker. And, if you're heading up Mount Washington, bring warmer gear as well . . . and even a pair of mittens and a wool ski hat.

Remember, there are a lot of things you should be taking with you, but cameras and lenses are heavy, and only so much is going to fit into that knapsack before a fun trip becomes a struggle.

But the list goes on: Sunglasses, sunblock (don't forget the tips of your ears!), a pen and pencil along with a notebook, even a fighting knife . . . hey, there are bears and mountain lions in the more rugged areas of Maine and New Hampshire.

Of course, a fully-charged cell phone goes in my pocket, just in case the car won't start when I get back to the main gate.

CHAPTER FOUR

Setting the Camera for the Beach

Okay, let's talk about the camera and a few settings.

While going to and from the parked car to the beach, I keep the camera . . . with the 300mm lens in place -- ready to shoot. It's not turned on, mind you, because we are saving the battery, especially in cold weather.

But if something, say an eagle, suddenly appears and lands in a tree right in front of you, you need to be ready. So, the camera is set for an f-stop that will give me maximum depth of field, the area where the camera will be in focus. That would be about f-32. You can quickly turn the camera on -- and shoot once the autofocus beeps.

Once I'm at the beach, the camera stays on aperture priority to make that first, fast shot of wildlife. But, once I spot something of interest on the beach that I want to shoot, I start playing with the f-stops. The lower the number, the less depth of field there will be, so you can focus on something, and the background will go soft. And, because a seashell is not going to run away, you can play with the f-stops and review the results on the LED screen.

Remember, half the joy of shooting a camera is discovering something new -- and coming back with something unusual.

Because I'm normally at Fort Foster at low tide, I have a little route I take with variations. Generally it's to the left to a small beach, where there are two small streams of water coming out of the rocks. Here, I sometimes use the tripod, setting the camera on it to shoot the changing movement of sand . . . and here I put the camera on the speed setting so I can slow things down and get the water blurring past interesting shapes in the sand. Go ahead, try it . . . and vary the shutter speed to see what you get.

You can also keep the camera on the tripod and shoot waves, getting interesting movement at slow shutter speeds. Try that, too.

While you can slow things down to capture blur, you can also speed it up to "freeze" movement . . . like waves breaking on rocks, or stopping the rotation of wheels on a racecar so you can clearly see the word Goodyear.

We'll have lots more on shooting racecars at speed, but that comes later . . . now, we go back to Fort Foster and continue the loop of the beach. From this one spot to the left, we head down the beach, upriver past the lighthouse and the pier . . . past the mud flats to an area where there are big rocks and a small stream that runs year-round. Here, on very cold days, I find interesting arrangements of ice. Once, it was so cold, that the black rocks were covered at the high water mark with white ice . . . a nice picture.

One thing to remember about any routine you might establish for yourself, whether you're going to Fort Foster or someplace close to where you live: Vary the path you take out and back. Say you're going down the beach, go out along the high water mark, then return closer to the water on the way back . . . . that way you'll double what you see on the loop, and maybe you'll discover a photo opportunity you might have missed otherwise.

Besides the aperture and speed settings, most cameras come with a P setting, and this is programmed to shoot things automatically . . . making the Canon a true point-and-shoot camera. Try that setting as well because sometimes what you bring back in the camera is only the starting point for your creativity when you're using a photography program like Adobe Photoshop . . . but I've just had to change programs to a much later version and I'm in the learning mode myself. We'll get back to this later.

No matter what the setting, the creativity comes from the eyes . . . and your seeing what is unique. The first rule is to frame the picture as tightly as you can make it, with the things inside the frame creating a whole.

I've just developed a technique I'm calling the Big Picture Approach, teaching folks to shoot just the things that are dramatic . . . but we'll spend a whole chapter on this, later.

Now that you have the three basic ways of  shooting the camera in place -- the programmed mode, aperture priority and speed option -- let's call it quits for the day.

CHAPTER FIVE

The Hard Part

Taking a picture is the easy part -- preparing the presentation of the print is the hard part . . . but maybe we're getting ahead of ourselves. First you need to print the photo so it can be mounted and then framed.

So be it, because I just spent two hours cutting matte board and things are fresh in my mind.

The matte board comes in a big (thin) box which contains 25 32 x 40-inch sheets. The first major chore is to open it without cutting into the sheets inside. I use a box-cutter/art knife to gradually, carefully peel away the top layer of protective cardboard.

Then, after turning the box on its side, slide a couple of sheets out. At the Wyman House, we have a big dining room table that I take over for the cutting exercise . . . cutting the matte board into usable sizes and shapes.

Besides the cutting knife, you need a wide aluminum measure, but steel would be better. I measure with one side, and cut using the opposite side because occasionally you will mess up and the knife will take nicks out of the aluminum. This way, you have a backup side after things get too nicked up on one side.

The actual cutting takes place on a 36 x 12-inch piece of Plexiglas that you can get from most general hardware stores. I got mine cut at the Kittery ACE Hardware store.

Now, before you do any cutting, you need to measure and mark the matte board. Because most of my prints are mounted in 11 x 14-inch frames, I mark three 11-inch increments down the long side, and two 14-inch sections on the short side.

While this is not rocket science, you want to get this right.

Next, we get to the point of preparing to make the first cuts. Put the Plexiglas down on the table, slide the matte board over on top of it . . . preparing to make the cuts from the narrow side first.

A friend, water color artist Peter Welch, showed me how to do this. He has very long arms, and I don't. If you don't, you need to buy yourself some clamps. I'm using plastic Irwin clamps I found at Home Depot. When you get 'em, they have white labels on the top (there's a release mechanism you pull to free them every time you move them, so leave the white labels on them so you know what is the top.

 Position the paper atop the Plexiglas so when you make your cuts, you won't be cutting the top of the table.

Next, you need to position yourself. I always (and you should come up with some sort of routine so you always do this the same way)  put the edge of the measure along which I will cut just to my right, because I'm right-handed. This way, the natural pull is against your body, and controlling the cutting knife is easier.

I reach to the far side, place the blade against the edge of the measure, and with a slight pressure inward, pull the knife towards me, standing on the near side of the table.

Here's where the clamp comes in handy: It usually takes me two cuts to slice the 11-inch wide piece of paper away from the full matte board. With the pieces clamped (the measure atop the paper), you make two cuts . . . the first being the most important, the second with the blade elevated slightly so the point is cutting deeper into the matte board -- and here the second cut follows the first indentation in the paper.

When I'm done making the first cuts, I wind up with four pieces of matte board, three 11 inches wide, and a piece four inches wide that is left over . . . but I use this as backing material when I am cutting the matte board on my Logan Matte Cutter. More on this, later.

Next, I make two more 14-inch wide cuts, across the narrow 11-inch pieces to give me two 11 x 14-inch pieces of matte board, and some scrap paper. Here, I live dangerously, making the cuts using the edge of the measure without using the clamps.

From one 40 x 36-inch matte board I come away with six pieces that will be turned into the pieces that hold and display the print . . . and here you can decided how wide the borders will be . . . remembering that the wider the boarders, the less image of your print will show through. Hey, sometimes life is a compromise.

Now my rich friends never bother with cutting their own mattes, they buy them laser cut to perfection . . . and pay a little more for the privilege. But I'm here to tell you that you should know how to do this because if you want a special size, to say, fit into the panes of a sash window, you're going to need to determine their size and . . . cut them yourself.

And, as part of the upcoming photography business I'm developing, we will go through the entire process of shooting the pictures, editing the images, printing the photos, cutting the matt, matting the prints and then framing them.

That gives you -- the photographer -- total control over the creative process.

CHAPTER SIX

Framing the Pictures

Because I feel the photo is more important than the frame, I buy cheap plastic frames from the Christmas Tree Shop in Portsmouth -- 72 at a time! I get 'em for $2.49 apiece, and the bastards won't dicker on the price . . . saying they're already discounted. I think that's bull, but it's the cheapest price I can find. Chances are that if someone wants the picture, they'll redo it in any case . . . in a frame they like.

Since the frames are made in China, they are cheaply made . . . but relatively good-looking in black (also available in silvery gray).

I can imagine what the inside of a Chinese factory producing plastic frames looks like, and when I open each frame from its packaging, I check for damage . . . so keep those receipts . . . and then separate the glass and backing from the plastic frame.

The first step is to fill the sink with warm water, and then add about five frames into the mix. Using a sponge, I swipe around the interior of each frame to remove dust and any extraneous plastic that will inevitably appear as annoying black dots on the white matte board when you're actually framing the picture.

Using paper towels (a regular towel will certainly work!), I dry all the edges, inside and out.

Next, I move the glass into the living room and place a large bath towel on the table. This holds the glass firmly in place, and protects those plastic frames when I start putting them all together.

After cleaning the plastic frames, I move on to cleaning the glass . . . and here I tilt the glass on edge and spray three blasts of Windex, and then -- with the glass flat on the bath towel -- I do first one side, and then the other to make sure the glass is clean. For five pieces of glass it takes me two paper towels. One to wipe the Windex around, the other to dry and polish the glass.

After that, I put the glass in the frames, and button down the backing . . . oh, and using plastic bags from my local grocery store, Market Basket, I stick the frames inside the bags to protect them from any bumping and scratching.

Now, of course, you need a print to put in those frames. One fine art photographer I know says he frames only one from every thousands pictures that he shoots . . .. Me, I'm not that anal . . . and it's one of the major reasons I buy inexpensive frames 72 at a time.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Finding the Wall-hanger

When I go out to shoot the camera I'm determined to get stuff that everyone else isn't getting . . . sort of like the rule that you try to teach Little Leaguers: Hit it where they ain't!

But, having said that, I shoot a lot of photographs, and part of that is a remnant from so many years working as a photojournalist. As such, it was my job to document things, not necessarily come back with perfectly composed fine art photos.

And, what I'm trying to do here is to give you the basics, not the technical side of photography. You can learn all that stuff from a book or a tutorial -- and in the end, you're going to have to shoot on the fly. The ultimate test here is to come back with a photograph, to anticipate what it is you're looking for, to position yourself to get it . . . and then accomplish the getting.

Sure, that all sounds easy . . . but trust me, it isn't.

Let's for a second go back to auto racing. Besides knowing what direction the sun will rise and fall -- because that will determine what directions you can shoot (you don't want to be shooting into the sun!). Naturally, you want to avoid glare coming off the shiny racecars, best using light and shadow. Long before you hoist a camera to your eye, though, you need to have the race schedule. When are the practice sessions, when is qualifying, when is the race?

All of these things will determine where you need to be with your camera -- and unlike going to the beach, you can't shoot exactly when you want to, so most of the time you won't be shooting under ideal lighting conditions -- so you must position yourself on the track to make the best of things.

At Fort Foster you can control the lighting . . . to a point. And when it comes to light, we strive for the soft light of the early morning or late afternoon, providing you with the most significant of factors for photography, the object and its shadow.

But you also need to know when low tide will be in effect. Low tide means you have beach on which you can maneuver . . . and in some cases, without the beach, you cannot maneuver. Equally important, without the beach (and the rocks, the sand, etc.), what are you shooting?

And, if you're looking for big waves, you don't need the beach . . . you need high tide.

So, after I check the weather (that determines what the temperature will be and how I must dress to ward off the heat or the cold) . . . and that tells me if I want to make the trip. Standing in the rain is not what I want to do.

For getting the information about the tide, go to the Internet and punch up Tide Charts, then add the beach or the point of land you want to know tidal information about.

Okay, let's take a break here . . . now that you have the basic information about planning your attack.

Next, we open our eyes on the mud flats, the beach, to see what we can see . . . but one last thought: You can normally be on the beach for an hour and a half before . . . and after . . . low tide -- so you can plan your time at the beach. You want to have enough time to make your way down the beach, get your shots, and then get back to the point where you entered before the incoming tide washes you away.

And while using the buddy system is always a good idea, most of the time I'm out on the beach by myself . . . and you probably will be as well. So, there's a safety concern. The tide will go out, and inevitably, the water will surge back. In between, you want to remain mobile . . . so be careful. If you fell and say, broke your leg, you would no longer be mobile and the incoming tide won't stop for you.

CHAPTER EIGHT

We Wind Things Up on the Beach!

Here we go -- you've got a camera and you know how to use it. You're dressed to either keep yourself warm or cool, depending on the temperature. You've chosen exactly the right time to be at Fort Foster, and you're on the beach. Let's say we are working our way to the left, beyond the Pier, up into the area where the seacoast path opens up after a brief canopy.

You'll come to a series of big rocks, all of which have their own value for a photographer, grain, unique coloration, barnacles, and then the sand, a unique grit created by the wearing down of basaltic rock.

As the tide goes out, gravity takes control and water runs downhill into the mouth of the Piscatqua River, into the Atlantic Ocean. In this case, there is a swamp above the causeway that splits it off from the beach, and the water here migrates down . . . a result of high pressure moving into a low pressure area.

One thing I find fascinating about this area are something I've dubbed "sea sketches" . . . the tracks created in the sand by the water rushing back into the ocean and river.

What I do, is circle around the sketches that stand out, seeing the impact of the light from various angles, while keeping my footprints out of any possible spot I might want to photograph.

And, it's here that you start working as a photographer, either holding the camera in your hands (both of them!) or by putting it on a tripod.

Supposing that there is enough light so you can shoot at 125th of a second or faster (while you CAN shoot a held-held camera at slower speeds, you can't do that for prolonged periods of time), you still might want to consider using a tripod.

The tripod holds the camera steady whether it's shooting fast or slow, but equally important -- it helps slow you down. It gives you a chance to carefully frame what you will shoot. So, you can take a photo, and then try variations of that shot . . . changing aperture and shutter speed settings as well as the things you include in each shot. A slight variation, right or left, top to bottom, will alter your photograph. One version of the shot will be better (at least in your mind, and that's the important part because it's YOUR photograph) than all the rest.

One suggestion here is that you make a few notes as you do this. And, while the images you see later will have all the critical information embedded . . . taking the time to make notes gets you more involved in the shooting process . . . and when you download the images, you will be looking to see what you got . . . and in this way, certain things will stand out in your mind . . . things that you might want to remember so you can duplicate it with variations the next time you go out -- or use that information as a starting point for your creative next leap forward.

And, this, my friends -- is discovery.

And, this is where I'm going to leave you. If you want me to actually show you these and other scenic places, to show you all the other things you should know, walking you through the shooting, the downloading, the editing, the printing, the matting and the framing of the image, all you have to do is call me at (207) 703-2086 and we'll take it to the next step.

By the way, the next step includes my taking you to a wide range of scenic spots up and down the Maine and New Hampshire coastlines, places you might never find on your own, including rustic Perkin's Cove, the bars and restaurants of  Portsmouth, and while there, having a chance to shoot the final stages of the Memorial Bridge being put into place from the Prescott Park Pier.

The new structure is supposed to open on July 6th . . . so you know where I'll be on that day, capturing the jubilation of two communities coming together again.

At this point, I have room in the car for one or two of you.

And, please check back, we have more to tell you because each day with a camera, we discover new things . . . things important enough for me to share.