As a nature photographer and a lover of the outdoors, I’ve always brought camera gear on hikes and my other outdoor journeys. For years, these journeys were never just journeys; they were photo outings. Through many years of carrying a camera just about everywhere, attending workshops and classes, studying the imagery of photographers I admire and aspire to, and even running a professional dog photography business for eight years, I’ve learned a lot about composition, lighting, creative exposure, colors, and a variety of techniques and tricks. It has taught me to see in a new way. With all this experience, I tend to see everyday scenes from a photographer’s perspective. I evaluate the quality and angle of light, colors, shadows, and highlights. I consider how I would frame the subject best and which lens to use. It’s almost an endless evaluation of common, everyday observations. I know I’m not alone because many photographer friends and colleagues have expressed similar sentiments.
FEELING THE WEIGHT
My camera gear was as essential as my hiking boots and water bottle on my journeys. The thought of leaving it behind felt like an invitation for regret. What if I came across the perfect sunrise, that one bird or mammal I’ve had on my list to photograph, or that sweeping landscape where the light was so perfect that it takes your breath away? With any scene I found worthy of photographing, I would spend an inordinate amount of time composing, recomposing, and otherwise trying to get the perfect image. I would use all my experience and training to get the best image possible. Even my wife, at the sight of me packing my camera before a hike, would sigh or choose not to go with me, knowing that a half-hour hike would likely turn into a two-hour hike.
Over time, I started to feel the weight, not just of the camera gear on my back, but that constant need to document everything I saw. I began to realize that I was framing moments before fully experiencing them and prioritizing an image over the feeling of simply being there.
BEING PRESENT – SEEING ANEW
With some reluctance, I consciously began setting out without my camera. I started to understand what I was missing. There was a new-found freedom of movement without an agenda, letting the moment unfold without an impulse to capture it. Just as photography has allowed me to see in a new way, now, without a camera, I again started seeing in a new way – not through a lens, but with an openness that lets nature leave its impression on me rather than the other way around. I was no longer chasing light but letting the light unfold and dazzle the landscape. Instead of composing a scene, I let myself be a part of it. And in all that stillness, I discovered a different kind of memory – one not recorded on a card in my camera or bound to pixels or prints but to the quiet liberation and joy of simply being present.
It’s about finding that balance and having clear intentions before starting a journey. Is this a photography day or a day to let the journey unfold and be a part of it, present with the moment?
Have you ever put the camera down and simply let nature unfold around you? I’d love to hear your thoughts. Share your experiences in the comments below!
I’ve written essays on similar topics. You can find them here:
Capturing Zen: Photography as a Meditative Art
The Healing Power of Nature: Reaping the Benefits of Outdoor Bliss
