Year in Review: 10 for 2018

1.  Magnolia Plantation & Gardens, Lowcountry Charleston, SC

My mother is an avid photographer.  Our annual trip each year to the Lowcountry of South Carolina is an opportunity for us to chase a shared passion around one of her favorite subjects–gardens!  Of course, being familiar with these locations from previous visits forces each of us to stretch our vision and creativity to continually find new subjects, as well as to present familiar subjects in new and fresh ways.  One of the locations we always visit multiple times is Magnolia Plantation & Gardens on the Ashley River.  While I don’t care much for photographing within formal gardens, the informal “romantic” style of this property is quite inviting–and so, this is one of those special places where we can both find common ground.  This particular frame is one that I’ve been working on for several years; trying to get the resurrection ferns, azaleas, light etc. all to lineup in some semblance of order during the handful of days I get to visit each year.  So, nothing out-of-this-world in terms of composition or technique on this one.  Just a nice opportunity to piece together a vision into something tangible. 

2.  Folly Beach, Charleston, SC

One of the weather patterns I fear the most while visiting the Lowcountry each spring happens when the temperatures dip down low and the wind machine kicks up.  The light becomes harsh most of the day and the gardens are all but unusable due to the many delicate bouncing flowers.  When these conditions came rolling in this past spring, I just decided to embrace the suck–to steal the saying–and head out to the beach to enjoy a sand sandwich–nothing like a good sand blasting!  Luckily, our lodging was near the beach.  The first trip I took down to the ocean I didn’t bring my camera.  I was surprised to see the beaches totally stripped of sand, the substrate more like walking on asphalt than a beach.  The wind was blowing east, hard, sweeping any loose particles efficiently towards the ocean.  It was pretty cool.  I ran back to the house, grabbed my bag, and began playing with various compositions highlighting the moving sand as if it were streaks of water in a mountain stream.  I had tried something similar years back while shooting at Jockey’s Ridge State Park with friend, Dave Allen, but I was young with the camera and overwhelmed by the situation.  This time, I settled into the scene, got comfortable with the wind, and enjoyed working with the flow so to speak! 

3.  Roaring Fork Motor Nature Trail, GSMNP, Gatlinburg, TN

In April I had the opportunity to meet up with Jim McGovern for some Smokies adventure.  This was my third or fourth time working with Jim and we had a good rapport already built:  an understanding of how each of us approach a scene; how long we each need to explore an area; how to stay out of each other’s frames, but also how to not get too far away.  By the way, thank you, Jim for the opportunities to work with you:  I know that I’m not the typical photography guide and that your options are endless for other service providers.  I appreciate you, bud.  Over five years ago I stumbled upon a section of Roaring Fork that spoke to me.  I got that feeling; something was special/notable at this location.  For years I’ve returned, never quite piecing together the puzzle.  On this high-flow spring afternoon the water levels were higher than I had ever witnessed.  The composition at this location sort of found me.  I always have a list of places within places where I’ve felt a shot exists but I haven’t been able to complete the shot during any given visit for whatever reason.  Any chance I get to return and make inroads on that list is a great day in my book.  Feels like progress.   

4.  Unknown Tributary, GSMNP, TN

It rained consistently during my spring travels in the Smoky Mountains.  Wet in the Smokies is not unusual, really, but perhaps a bit more so on this trip than typical.  I was chasing Trillium blooms on this particular morning up Newfound Gap Road.  Every gain in elevation was resulting in gains in early spring blooms.  It was the water, however, that ended up catching my attention–cascading freely down the mountainsides in unfamiliar (to me) locations.  Starting roadside and tracking this headwater drainage upwards, I was absolutely amazed at the lushness and vibrance of the green mosses, which covered literally everything!  To me, the mosses distinguish the Smokies from surrounding areas.  The mosses are absolutely incredible.  I’ll be eyeing this location in coming years (if I’m blessed to continue on this journey behind the camera); there is definitely a more complete shot to be had from this location!

5.  Big Laurel Gap Overlook, BRP, North Carolina

After my time in the Smokies I latched onto the Blue Ridge Parkway and motored through Western North Carolina.  Technically, the facilities along the Blue Ridge Parkway open in May.  Sometimes a bit earlier (especially in the case of Price Lake Campground), but most times a week or two later is more accurate in my personal experience:  it is a soft date for sure.  The first few weeks of the month are mostly stick-like views of winter mountains, highlighted by beautiful translucent pink blooms of Pinkshell Azalea roadside and the gentle yellows of Trout Lilies on the forest floor.  Not long after, however, the tree canopy above fills in and starves the light, causing the ephemerals to disappear for another year.  The weather typically becomes unsettled.  Witnessing this seasonal shift has become a favorite of my annual shooting calendar.  I chose to include this photo in the roundup because this was the moment in May when things got really heavy.  Standing at this overlook–Big Laurel Gap–close to my campsite at Crabtree Falls, I didn’t realize that I wouldn’t see the sun for over a week as flooding rains ravaged the area.   

6.  Wilson Creek Bridge, Tanawha Trail, Western North Carolina

It rained, hard, for the better part of an entire week in late May.  I was tent camping at the time.  A rainfly was my first layer of protection.  Above that a Chill Gorilla rain tarp, and yet above that, a Big Agnes Shelter as the first line of defense.  Three layers of rain protection separated me on the ground from the open faucet in the sky above.  It was the pooling of water from running off of all those barriers, however, that eventually got me.  Camping in these types of conditions is challenging, even with the best of preparations.  Dampness is in the air.  I got out every day no matter the weather and explored the landscape.  I saw more Juvenile Red Eft Newts–bright orange critters–than ever before in my life.  They seemed to be celebrating the unusually wet weather.  The waterfalls and streams were too full, though, for my tastes–without detail, brown, and dangerous.  I found opportunity only in the highest of high headwaters–places that usually are nothing more than a trickle.  And that led me to the Wilson Creek headwaters along the Tanawha Trail on the flanks of Grandfather Mountain.  It was the first time I got to see these waterfalls in their glory–and they were beautiful.  I stood in driving rains for hours waiting for short breaks to snap a few frames.  Water actually got inside of my camera somehow during this period; an entire day was wasted as a result with every shot suffering from internal camera fog (the only solution was to sit at the local library, in the dry, for the better part of half a day to let things even out!).  This image was a downstream view of the Tanawha trail bridge over Wilson Creek:  while the water volume was minimized in comparison to an uphill perspective, I thought it was a different and fun perspective in very unique and somewhat miserable conditions.

7.  Sunflower, McKee Beshers Wildlife Management Area, MD

My mom enjoys photographing sunflowers (kind of a garden sort of thing), so we head out to McKee Beshers Wildlife Management Area every year together to check on the annual bloom in July.  Nothing special here really from me.  I included this one in the roundup because it marks an intentional movement for me towards improving my macro photography.  I actually downgraded from a 100mm macro to a cheaper 60mm macro lens that allows me to get closer to my subjects while working (although the magnification remains the same).  I still don’t care for multiple frame composites / layering etc., but I am having fun with the lens regardless of the natural inherent limitations.

8.  Monarch Butterfly Chrysalis, Northern Virginia

This one is not about the image.  I’ve always enjoyed photographing Monarch Butterflies, be it the bright yellow and black caterpillars or the deep orange and black wings of the mature butterfly.  I find their story incredible.  I’ve never been able to catch one, though, in the chrysalis stage until this year.  I include this image in the yearly roundup simply as a means of checking off one of those bucket-list-type things.

9.  The Avon Fishing Pier, Avon, North Carolina

Each November I close out my shooting calendar in the Outer Banks.  At this point in 2018, my small little photography business felt about as shaky as this old wooden pier looks from beneath.  It is not unusual as a freelancer, I’m told, to hit a spell of time where there’s nothing on the books and nothing in the pipeline for the near future.  Without print sales or consistent stock earnings to rely on, I hit a spell that was longer and drier than I’ve had to date.  Demand dissipated.  Add to that my own apparent laziness in chasing photo tours and workshops during that time period and well, I was losing–losing pretty much everything.  This photo sort of represented the whole thing for me:  I am the shaky wooden structure representing an exciting opportunity within in a beautiful world but with a very uncertain future.   

10.  Shell Hash, Hatteras, North Carolina

Back to the core of why I do this thing:  outside, walking the beach, letting my curiosity and wonder lead me to a frame.  Creating honest and authentic bits and pieces that tell the story of a place.  It really is that simple for me.  Present a place as simply and honestly and skillfully as I possibly can.  Then, let it lie.  Let others decide whether it is beautiful and/or how it ranks in their own travels and experiences.  I don’t know what the future holds for me right now; I’ve never been more unsure of where things are going.  My hope is to team up in 2019 with a number of peers in their respective places and within their respective arts, and to create images, products, and offerings that are more outward facing and inviting to those who want to share in the journey and adventure that I’ve personally found so enriching.  Here’s to another year behind the lens!