Latest Photo Stream

Believe it or not, I do photograph human elements from time to time. I typically don't share them as they don't fit into my 'persona' of being a nature photographer. But this photostream format allows me to share a variety of photographs. My soul belongs in nature, but creating imagery such as this is always good to stretch yourself creatively. The idea of conceptual blending can even be brought over to different genres of photography that we don't typically do. It's about taking techniques or ideas from one style and applying them in unexpected ways to another, often leading to fresh perspectives in our primary work.

This image not only represents a creative detour but also serves as a reminder of other passions. I'm realizing it's time to pick up my guitar again; I've neglected my love of music for far too long now. Who knows? Maybe this blend of visual and musical creativity will open up new avenues in my photographic journey. After all, inspiration often comes from the most unexpected places.

There's a recurring theme in my photographic journey that I can no longer ignore - my profound attraction to black and white images. Yet, for reasons I'm still unraveling, I find myself repeatedly drawn back to color, as if tethered by an invisible thread.

Each encounter with a monochrome photograph, whether it's someone else's work or my own creation, feels like coming home. These images evoke a deep, visceral response that color rarely matches. It's an emotional connection so intense that, paradoxically, it almost frightens me. Perhaps that's why I keep retreating to the familiar territory of color - a subconscious attempt to shield myself from the raw emotions that black and white stirs within me.

This simple image from Yellowstone speaks volumes in its silence. To me, it's deeply evocative, resonating on a level I struggle to articulate. Whether this emotional response translates to others is uncertain, but I'm beginning to realize that's not what matters most. What's crucial is the profound impact it has on me as an artist.

It's high time I lean into this connection, to explore the depth of emotion that monochrome imagery unlocks within me. After all, isn't that what art is about - expressing and exploring our deepest selves?

In the ever-changing landscape of Death Valley, we stumbled upon a rare and breathtaking sight in a little-known canyon. Our visit came shortly after a flood, which had dramatically altered the terrain.

Floods in these canyons can be destructive, often stripping away the floor. But in this case, nature had been unexpectedly generous. The recent deluge had deposited several feet of gravel, raising the canyon floor by at least four feet. This geological gift granted me temporary access to a normally unreachable dry fall.

Scaling this newly accessible height, I was awestruck by what I found. At the top lay some of the most dramatic canyon walls I've ever encountered in Death Valley. The scene was magnificent, but our expedition faced an unexpected challenge - we had forgotten our rope. Without it, I couldn't help Jennifer up the dry fall or retrieve my camera bag.

Determined not to let this rare view go uncaptured, I turned to my iPhone. The results, surprisingly, were quite impressive given the limitations.

Since that day, we've returned to this canyon, hoping to properly document this hidden wonder. However, the fickle nature of the desert had other plans. More recent flooding has torn away at the canyon floor, once again rendering the dry fall inaccessible to us mere mortals.

This experience serves as a poignant reminder of nature's transient beauty and the importance of seizing the moment. While we dream of returning one day to photograph this scene with our full gear, we're grateful for the fleeting glimpse we were granted.

The desert, it seems, keeps its most spectacular secrets well-guarded, revealing them only to the fortunate few at just the right moment.

Grand Teton National Park has been a springtime haven for us, drawing us back for nearly a month each year. Yet, despite its undeniable beauty, I've rarely shared images from this majestic place. It's not for lack of trying - my hard drives are brimming with Teton shots. But for some reason, I've struggled to form a deep connection with these photographs.

This disconnect isn't unique to the Tetons; it's a pattern I've noticed with many mountain locations. These towering landscapes are my happy place, where I feel alive and at peace. But translating that joy into meaningful photographic work? That's been a challenge.

However, there's a silver lining. I've noticed that scenes like this one - where dramatic light plays across the landscape, rendered in stark black and white - tend to resonate with me more deeply. It's as if stripping away the color allows me to capture the raw essence of the mountains that speaks to my soul.

Perhaps it's time I lean into this realization. There's a vast array of mountain photographs in my archives, waiting to be explored. By focusing on dramatic, monochrome interpretations, I might just uncover a theme that bridges the gap between my love for these places and my artistic expression of them.

Today, I'm excited to share a hidden treasure from my archives - a 2021 image from Zion National Park that I've kept under wraps until now. While The Subway in Zion is a well-trodden path for photographers, I've always found the classic shot a bit overdone. But this time, I simply turned around and discovered this breathtaking scene.

Although I'm sure others have captured this area, I haven't come across this particular composition before. It's a fresh perspective on a familiar location, reminding us that beauty often lies just beyond the obvious.

This image has rekindled my longing for Zion's autumn splendor. It's been a couple of years since our last visit, and I'm already looking forward to returning next year. In the meantime, I'll be diving into my extensive backlog of Zion shots. After years of visits and selective processing, there's a wealth of unseen material waiting to be unveiled.

Stay tuned for more hidden gems from Zion - there's plenty more where this came from!

This October found us on the Oregon Coast, balancing our time between teaching a workshop and indulging in some personal photography. I've never really considered myself an ocean person - my roots are in the mountains, and beach trips were few and far between in my younger years. But over time, I've developed a deep appreciation for the coastal environment, especially the intricate details hidden within each tide pool. It's fascinating how the ebb and flow of the tides constantly unveil new wonders.

During this particular outing, my attention was drawn to these sea grasses. What struck me most was the subtle play of tonalities, beautifully revealed under the typical overcast sky of the Oregon Coast. It's moments like these that remind me how even the most common elements of a landscape can transform into something extraordinary under the right conditions.

Over time, I've come to realize that in my photography, I'm most drawn to those special moments of light, especially when a subject is spotlit like this tree in the Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone. This image really captures that fascination of mine. I was completely captivated by the interplay of light and shadow – the tree catching the first golden rays of the day, standing out beautifully against the dark, shadowy canyon walls.

What really struck me was how this natural spotlight created such a powerful scene, almost like nature itself was setting the stage for this lone tree. It's these kinds of moments, where light transforms something ordinary into something extraordinary, that keep fueling my passion for landscape photography. The way the light picked out just this one tree from the vast canyon around it - that's the kind of thing that always stops me in my tracks and makes me reach for my camera.

We recently made a brief stopover in Moab on our way back to Denver after an extended trip. It was refreshing to revisit this old favorite location. While the vibe of the area has certainly evolved, we still relish stopping in for our favorite sushi and Thai - yes, it's that good in Moab!We were fortunate enough to secure a spot along the Colorado River for a week-long camp, which turned out to be an incredibly peaceful experience. Our time was split between some light hiking and a touch of photography - a perfect balance for a short stay.On this particular morning, we got up semi-early, but thanks to it being right before daylight savings, sunrise wasn't until almost 8:00 a.m. As a photographer, I wish it was always this easy! Mother Nature gifted us with some beautiful clouds and perfect light on the rocks, but it was fleeting - lasting maybe 30 seconds before the sun disappeared into the clouds for the rest of the day.I've always loved this location and have been trying to capture a photo I'm truly happy with for quite some time. It's not an easy shot to chase, as you need rain to fill the potholes and create those captivating reflections. But patience and persistence paid off, and I'm pleased with how this image turned out.