Seeing slowly is not wasted time

The teenage philosopher Ferris Bueller once said: “Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.” In the nearly 40 years that have passed since Ferris took a day off to appreciate the fleeting innocence of high school, life has only moved faster. And we look around less.

The great irony is that we’re supposed to have more free time than ever. Each technological advance promises to make our lives easier and give us the freedom to enjoy life. But we don’t gain freedom. We’re expected to be even more productive.

The storm between the calm

In art, religious works glorify the Creator. Portraits convey personality and status. Still lifes showcase technique. But landscapes, up until relatively recently, were, well, just landscapes.

We now know landscapes can be just as expressive as any other form of art. That doesn’t mean that every picture of the environment is a creative masterpiece. Over the course of a year, a million people may take turns taking a quick picture of Half Dome at Yosemite’s famous Tunnel Overlook. Is every one of them a work of art? Probably not. But then not every snapshot selfie holding a wheel of cheese at a farmers’ market is a deep exploration of what it means to be alive.

Snapshots and souvenirs

Today is World Photography Day — a day to appreciate “the art of capturing moments.” For me, photography was the gateway to appreciating the moments themselves.

The truth is beneath the surface (and also above it)

Between editing software and artificial intelligence, photographs are no longer trusted as presenting an absolute truth. It’s a different world from the one nearly 150 years ago when Eadweard Muybridge showed racehorses can briefly fly through the air. But even an unedited photo represents only one version of the truth. That’s because there is no such thing as a completely unedited photo.

Whispers and shouts

In photography, we typically celebrate the dramatic. Landscapes with explosive colors. Powerful wildlife in the midst of intense action. But that’s not usually how I see the world.

Most of the time I’m in nature I’m thinking. About the meaning of life. About how everything is connected to everything else. How all of us — human, plant, or animal — are just trying to get by.

The rain in Spain

One of the things I love most about nature photography is that every moment is a fleeting moment. The scenery is in a state of constant change. I was reminded of that recently while hiking in La Vera, a valley-filled region in the mountains of western Spain.

I was there during heavy rainstorms, though I escaped the worst. In the eastern part of the country, 229 people died in the worst flooding to hit the country in years. You can donate to relief efforts here.

Appreciating the scenic route

Even when we are on the scenic route, I suspect that most of the time we still remain fixated on our destination. The view outside the window is prettier, but it’s still just time filler. If it were food, it’s definitely not the main course. And I don’t often think we even treat it as an appetizer.

Better appreciating the journey is something that I have been working on for years. And I remain a work in progress.

The art of rejection

Being rejected is a terrible, terrible feeling. But in art, let alone life, I’m not aware of any way to avoid it.

We’re conditioned to only share the positive. We worry that if we show any sign of weakness, it will taint our public image and close the door to future opportunities. Who wants to work with a loser?

Camera settings hold us back

Perhaps more than any other form of art, photography is treated as a technical pursuit. That’s not to say that other forms of art can’t be highly technical — they are! — but most people can appreciate a painting without asking about the specific brands of paint used, the wrist action used to apply it, and so on.

The same cannot be said for a photograph. There’s often an expectation that photographers publish their settings with their images. If the f-stops and ISOs don’t fit with the presentation, the expectation is that the photographer will supply them if asked. If the photographer won’t indulge, it’s assumed he or she is hiding something.

The curse of the modern photocopier

Wildlife photographers sometimes look for conflict to add drama to their images, but more and more it seems like they’re getting caught up in conflict themselves. Wildlife hotspots are now becoming flashpoints for heated battles between people out for a few Instagram likes and those who believe the photographers are like paparazzi who are doing the animals harm.

One such hotspot is on San Juan Island in Washington state where a few years ago I photographed a bald eagle flying with a red fox and a rabbit. The park was a well-known fox habitat before I captured those photos, and the number of photographers showing up has only grown since.

The art of misery

Would you like this picture more if you knew I was in pain when I made it? That my fingers ached after I removed one of my gloves in the sub-freezing temperatures in order to work faster in the fleeting light? That a half hour earlier I injured my back while trying to speed through waist-deep snow with my heavy camera bag?

It is a somewhat serious question. Anybody can take photos and most people always have a camera with them. The number of pictures taken in any given day is approaching the population of Earth. So, what separates the dedicated artists from anyone with a smartphone? The amount of suffering is becoming that measuring stick.

Variations on a sunset

Look at a sky watcher’s chart and you will see sunset listed as a precise moment of time. I, however, prefer to think of it as an event — an event that can last hours.

There’s more to a sunset than the instant when the sun slips below the horizon. Sometimes an hour before, the western sky can begin to turn golden. Puffy cumulus clouds that are low in the sky can go from being pure white to intense yellow.

Variations on fall color

It has been said that every picture has already been taken. More than a billion pictures are taken each day. And some are largely recreations of images that someone else has taken before.

With such a glut of photography is there anything left to do? It’s a question that was in the back of my mind this past month — a month I mostly spent photographing fall color, something I’ve done every October for more than 20 years now.

5 tips for better bird photos

What turns a bird picture into a work of art? A magazine recently asked me and other photographers who had been honored by Audubon that question. I’m certain we gave them enough material to fill a how-to book. But they were looking only for a short article, so little of it ended up in print. Here’s what would have gone into my chapter.

The value of waiting

Whenever I give a nature talk, one question usually comes up. And it’s almost always phrased as a statement. “You must spend a lot of time standing around waiting for something to happen.”

I do spend a lot of time waiting — but probably not anywhere near the amount people asking the question suspect.

The Fir Island blues

This photograph looks like dusk at a saltwater marsh, but that’s not what it’s really about. It is my first image of 2021 and it has a lot to say.

Mallards on foggy pond

I’ve spent much of this year trying to find new appreciation for the ordinary. It’s been the only way to stay safely productive. And while I certainly miss new experiences and exotic locations, trying to see things I know well with a more creative eye has been a wonderful experience of its own.

Rediscovering the beauty of city parks

The challenges of 2020 have certainly affected my approach to nature photography, but the impact hasn’t been entirely bad. Because of the travel restrictions, this year I have renewed my appreciation for city parks.

City parks are critically important to the environment. Let’s take London as just one example. More than 300 species of birds live within its city limits because parks and gardens provide so much green space. Add other creatures, flowering plants and insects and the list of unique species there tops 13,000.

Portrait of a barred owl

While it can be incredibly exciting to photograph in a new place or to spend time with an animal you’ve never photographed before, I also enjoy revisiting old subjects. It’s allowed me to make some of my more creative images. It’s that familiarity that allowed me to make this portrait of a barred owl.

Walled-In Pond

To call these unusual times minimizes how unusual they really are. Over the past seven weeks, the majority of my photography has been conducted within a few feet of my front door. And given that the stay-at-home order in my state has just been extended, my yard will continue to be my photography subject for at least another four more.

It’s easy to fixate on the limits. My spring and summer travel plans have been scrapped. And I can’t help but think of the photo opportunities in the parks close to home, which are off-limits to my camera and tripod. But these nearly two months at home have also been eye-opening.