The Terra Galleria Blog – QT Luong

After chasing the light and seasons in national parks across the country, a few months ago I released the first installment of a new body of work: twenty-five landscape photographs made where I live, which means in public lands within half an hour from home. This follow-up presents twenty-five more monochrome images from that body of work. It is uncommon to juxtapose monochrome and color versions of the same images, but that is the main gist of this post, which also presents the color versions. Despite being rich in images and light on words, I hope it inspires thoughts and would love to hear from you.

In the first installment of this series, I showed only the finished black and white photographs and asked whether you thought they missed “something” by being monochrome. That something was left to the imagination. It could have been many things beyond the presence of color itself. In black-and-white photographs, viewers use their imagination to infer not only what the colors might be, but also what facts they may convey, for example in this series the season of the year, and what emotions or moods they might evoke. The question mobilized the power of imagination in creating a complete and vivid experience from a seemingly incomplete visual representation, which is something that generally one does more when viewing black and white photography, although it is a task prompted by all photographs. That’s positive since imagination transforms the act of viewing photographs from a passive activity into an interactive and deeply personal experience. However, this made answering the question even more subjective.

Back in the 1960s, black and white was considered the language of art photography, whereas color photography was the domain of commercial and casual photography. In the realm of nature, even by the mid-1970s, most of the visitor brochures issued by the National Park Service used monochrome photography, although they were printed in color! The photographer Joel Meyerowitz was one of the pioneers in ushering color photography acceptance into the art world. Meyerowitz initially worked as a street photographer, a genre that remains associated with black-and-white photography even nowadays. In the 1960s, he began to carry two different cameras to photograph the same scene in black and white and in color with different films. The personal experiment changed his practice, and he subsequently photographed exclusively in color, also switching to large-format photography. Despite its impact on the history of the medium, his juxtaposition of the monochrome and color images, whose compositions were not identical, was published only this year as A Question of Color (2024). Except for a few specialist cameras that produce a monochrome file, all digital cameras generate a color file. The creative potential of mixing color channels to generate a black-and-white image largely outweighs the slightly higher resolution of the monochrome cameras. Since I photographed with a standard digital camera, my black and white photographs originated in color without having to use two cameras like Meyerowitz. In this post, I am presenting both as a modest modern-day version of his experiment. Here are the color images from which the images above in this post originated:

Now that you have seen the two versions, instead of imagining one of them, do you think that the monochrome photographs in this body of work are missing something that was in the color version? I understand that the most nuanced and precise answer is “it depends on the image”, but I am still going to ask you to evaluate the body of work as a whole. I would be grateful if you answer the two questions below, and even more so if you would say why you think so in the comment section. As with every time there is a poll I may not comment further to avoid influencing answers, but will follow-up in a third installment.

click here if you don’t see the questions below

The most emblematic landscape of the American South is the flooded forests growing out of the water. One of them have recently emerged as one of the premier destinations for nature landscape photography. Two telltale signs are the number of photo workshops that frequent them, and the busloads of Chinese photographers who descend in prime season. This territory had been known for a while. I photographed in the Atchafalaya in the mid-1990s and David Muench’s Ancient America (1997), one of his most accomplished books, features quite a few images from that environment.

However, it seems that what caught the attention of the current crop of landscape photographers were the surreal russet-red fall colors which happen in the extraordinary context of interestingly shaped grey bald cypress and Spanish moss reflected in still waters and sometimes enveloped in a wisp of mystical fog. This post doesn’t feature this kind of pictures since I was there at the “wrong” time, however it includes the information I collected during my visit, which should an excellent staring point to help you start planning your own.

Although flooded forests of bald cypress can be found in all southern states from Texas to South Carolina, the one that has recently become the most popular with photographers is Caddo Lake. It is the largest natural lake in Texas (60 square miles) and also extends to Louisiana, a state with which its landscape is more often associated. Caddo Lake’s claim to fame is that it is lined up with the largest flooded forest of bald cypress trees in the world. Despite that, it is a quiet, rural, and relaxing area lined up with waterfront properties but no large-scale development. The location is about 200 miles east of Dallas, TX, and 40 miles northwest of Shreveport, LA, which is the closest airport.

When to visit

The bald cypress is one of the few deciduous conifers, like the alpine larch, which is why it produces great colors in the fall, generally late October to mid-November. From December to March, the trees are bare, and since the Spanish moss that adorns them are grey like the trunks, well, the landscape is quite grayish. They barely started to leaf out in early April, when we were in Texas for the eclipse of April 8, so our timing was not ideal. A few more weeks later, there would have been more tender green on the branches. In late spring and summer, the trees and lush and the lake covered with blooming aquatic plants. Unless it is a cloudy day, which is always good for forest photography, you would want to be out around sunrise and sunset. Even without spectacular foliage, a cluster of bald cypress and reflections silhouetted against a colorful sky is a beautiful sight to hold.

Where to stay

The low-profile community of Uncertain, TX is located next to the lake but has just a few small eateries and convenience stores. Accommodation is limited to rental houses (Airbnd/Vrbo) by the lake, including Spatterdock Guest Houses on Taylor Island which feature whimsical art installations and a nice boardwalk. Caddo Lake State Park offers cabins (be prepared: no linens, pillows, towels, or kitchenware) and campsites. Fifteen minutes away, Jefferson, TX is and quaint and charming town with cobblestone streets, historic buildings and tourist amenities such as nice restaurants, hotels, and shops. Marshall, TX and Shreveport, LA have more amenities but are further and bland.

Exploring by tour boat

Most of the shore of Caddo Lake is not public land. Given the size of the lake, it is best explored by motorboat. There are at least a dozen of operators around Uncertain that can take you on the lake while narrating its history and natural features. Most boat tours start from Johnson’s Marina, but Mike from Ole Jigger launched from his own boathouse in this backyard. Guides generally use pontoon boats with room for about ten which are stable, comfortable, and spacious enough to deploy a tripod if your group is not too large. The standard tour lasts 1h30 to 2h, during which we covered a lot of ground. I was impressed how our captain so easily navigated without aid the maze-like flooded forest. The ability to easily cover large distances would be helpful in finding great fall color. Sunrise and sunset tours are commonly arranged, but since it was a family trip, we went in the mid-afternoon and I considered it to be scouting session. When making advance arrangements keep in mind that many guides are hired by photo workshops planned more than a year in advance during the prime season.

Exploring by paddle

Paddling a canoe or kayak provides a more active and intimate experience of the flooded forest. It was a fun and relaxing family activity for us, and if your goal is photography, it is a good way to find a variety of angles and viewpoints unconstrained by the limitations of the shore or of being in a group with others on a boat. It is a pretty safe activity since the water is only waist-deep. Some photographers even deploy a tall tripod next to their watercraft, but with modern cameras, handholding or resting our camera on a folded tripod in the boat is enough. Life vests were provided, but are optional for adults. The only real hazard is getting lost if you go far. There are two areas where the waterway is small and enclosed enough not to be bothered by the wake of motorboats and where rentals are available: Benton Lake and the smaller Mill Pond. For Mill Pond we rented metal canoes sitting three at the entrance station of Caddo Lake State Park. The park provided us with a key to unlock our canoes and open the boathouse where paddles and life vests are stored. I could easily use a regular camera bag in the stable and wide craft. Although I am equipped with all sorts of waterproof camera systems, I don’t plan to bring any on a future trip. Ole Mossy Rental near Benton Lake provides more choices, as they also have modern plastic kayaks of the sit-on-top type that you could transport on your car to other waterways. Those are good for solo riders and are more easy to maneuver but not as stable as canoes. You could also rent at Johnson’s Marina and Shady Glade Resort and explore the nearby areas of Caddo Lake. I have been told that during the prime autumn season, some of those rentals can be sold out.

Exploring by foot

If you prefer to have your feet (and tripod) firmly planted on the ground or just to keep things simple, the best bet is Caddo Lake State Park. The boat launch provides access to a sizable channel of the bayou, and there are hiking trails, but by far the most photogenic area is Mill Pond, which you can photograph from the shore or from two piers, mainly the larger one. Although small, the area offers a lot of possibilities and can be accessed at any time of the day.

While my family recuperated from our travel from San Jose the previous day by sleeping late, I came to the pier at dawn. There was only another person there, but I imagine that in the prime months, this spot could become quite packed, and vibrations could be an issue. I was rewarded with a thin layer of mist above the water surface which was gone shortly after sunrise. I made all my compositions from the pier with a super-telephoto lens. With only a few accents of green, the scene was almost monochromatic, but for a short period after sunrise, the sun backlit the Spanish moss with a golden glow. Even when you come at the wrong time of the year, there are always photos to be found at Caddo Lake!

National Park Week is upon us. My past write-ups acknowledged the role government and citizen organizations played in protecting our national parks. One of the takeaways from Ken Burns and Dayton Duncan’s The National Parks: America’s Best Idea was that their establishment also owes much to the tireless efforts of individual dedicated conservationists. However, the legacy of our national parks is not solely shaped by their creation but also by the ongoing work of individuals who help visitors navigate and appreciate their wonders. Although unheralded, guidebook writers have offered invaluable guidance and insight to readers. Through their meticulous research, they have enriched the experiences of countless people, including me.

Today, I will highlight the books of one guidebook writer, Michael Joseph Oswald, and briefly compare them with some other favorite park books for context. Besides his accomplishments, Michael is a kindred spirit and generous person who helps promote other creatives and small business owners in the national park space. I contacted Micheal in 2016 with questions about book distribution, which he answered by phone and email. His referral led to an offer from his distributor, but I signed up with Ingram instead, and a few years later, Michael made the switch, so our books are now distributed by the same company, PGW (part of Ingram). Our more important commonalities are that we single-handedly author books that cover all 63 U.S. National Parks with writing, photographs, and maps. We both self-publish. Although one would think that our one-man operations make it impossible for us to compete with well-established publishers, Michael’s Your Guide to the National Parks sales have been comparable to the National Geographic’s classic Guide to the National Parks, while Treasured Lands is the best-selling photography book about the national parks, currently in its 8th printing.

Your Guide to the National Parks (now in its third edition) was a remarkable debut book in 2012 given its encyclopedic scope. Larger and with more information in it than in any other guidebook, there is something for everybody: history, fun facts, top sights, itineraries; tables with lodging, camping, and trails; weather; readable and useful maps; and resources. Yet, the book reflects in its superior organization the analytical mind of a former engineer. The main shortcoming of other park guidebooks available at that time was that they were mostly for automobile touring. Even the best of them, National Geographic’s Guide to the National Parks was structured around road itineraries. By contrast, Your Guide to the National Parks rightly emphasized hiking and other outdoor activities. Michael may have single-handedly shaken the industry, as the new park guidebooks available today have followed his approach. For example, the more recent National Geographic’s Secrets of the National Parks, which doesn’t reveal secrets, is a marked improvement but does not try to be comprehensive. Moon USA National Parks offers an excellent balance of information and inspiration through design and high-quality photographs. Speaking of photographs, more than forty of mine were included in the National Geographic’s guide pictured above. On the other hand, unlike others, Your Guide to the National Parks uses photos from free sources – demonstrating why “pro” landscape photography still has a place. Regardless of how the industry as caught up, Your Guide to the National Parks continues to distinguish itself from other guidebooks by being mostly the product of his travels park-to-park, doing the activities described in the book, and collecting testimonials from park rangers and visitors. There is something special about a single voice speaking from experience. Like me, Michael traveled frugally, sleeping in his car and tent. His book is offered at an incredibly low price for what you get, a 7.25″ x 8.75″ book of 724 pages – again not unlike Treasured Lands.

Compared to other guidebooks with a trim of about 5.5″ x 8.5″, the maps in Your Guide to the National Parks are more readable, but National Park Maps: An Atlas of the U.S. National Parks takes it one step further. In that book of trim 10.75″ x 13.5″ maps are reproduced 30% larger than the 8.25″ wide unigrid brochures provided by the National Park Service, which given the density of information in the NPS maps, is useful. Unlike the National Geographic Atlas of the National Parks, which is a hefty coffee-table full of great photos, fascinating narratives and data but includes passable maps, the meat of the portable and inexpensive National Park Maps are the maps, together with some eminently practical visitor information, driving distance tables, favorite lists, and itineraries. The author has been criticized for “plagiarizing” the National Park Service (NPS) maps, but I think he made the right choice, as those maps are the most informative around, a testament to the excellence of the NPS media services. Since those maps are public domain, like everything produced by the U.S. Government, there is no need to reinvent the wheel and end up with worse maps as other publishers have done in their books. Besides, Michael has added a layer of information, and in some cases has improved the maps themselves. Witness how the NPS maps of Redwood National Park, Cuyahoga Valley National Park, and Indiana Dunes National Park all lack shaded relief, and how National Park Maps has remedied that shortcoming. NPS maps can be downloaded from nps.gov or the more user-friendly repository npmaps.com, and if you contact a NPS unit, they will generally (but not always) mail you the relevant brochure/visitor guide/map. Still, the convenience of having all the maps in an atlas and the bonus information make National Park Maps worth it.

One of the strengths of Your Guide to the National Parks is that it provides more hiking information than other guidebooks. The Dayhiker’s Guide to the National Parks expands on that aspect. I believe parks are best experienced on foot and directly immersed in nature, and due to the weight of my camera equipment, I generally favor day hikes over backpacking trips. Therefore, it is the book I wish I had when I first started visiting America’s national parks. I have already mentioned that other guides to all the national parks tend to emphasize driving tours. There is now an abundant literature of hiking guides devoted to the trails of a specific park. Falcon Guides covers many areas, but the best guidebooks are locally self-published, such as Eric Stensland’s Hiking Rocky Mountain National Park. Yet for someone on a national park trip, those books offer overwhelming options, and several books would be needed. Instead The Dayhiker’s Guide to the National Parks presents a carefully curated selection of 280 trails, expertly described and mapped, ensuring that hikers can experience each park’s highlights on day hikes. The book serves as a comprehensive, yet self-contained, concise, and portable guide (a small paperback with rounded corners) to all the parks. The 198 topographic maps within are sufficient to follow park trails since they are generally well-marked. Robert and Martha Manning’s Walks of a Lifetime in America’s National Parks is in the same spirit, offering a selection of trails in each national park from a pair of veteran hikers, but it lacks maps or precise information such as elevation gain, and its format of soft-cover coffee-table book is not as practical.

Besides those just mentioned, I own an entire shelf of national park books (some reviewed here and here). It is a rare instance when browsing does not lead to new ideas for places to explore, as each author emphasizes their interests. For photography location information, my two main sources of information are not specific to national parks, although the national parks are prominent among the locations described. In the past, I have subscribed to Robert Hitchman’s Photograph America Newsletter. He has been publishing them for 35 years without missing a beat, and the complete collection is an excellent value with solid information. The Phototrip USA series is excellent, and in particular, the three Southwest volumes authored by Laurent Martres are by far the most detailed and comprehensive resource on photographing that region. It is a work whose breadth and depth are unlikely to be replicated by anyone.

Ansel Adams is of course revered for his masterful photographs of Yosemite, which he published in many popular books. However, his first publication about Yosemite was not a photography book, but rather the Illustrated Guide to Yosemite Valley (1940) authored together with his wife Virginia and later expanded into the Sierra Club’s Illustrated Guide To Yosemite (1963). Preceding Michael’s approach before his lifetime, the Adams conceived the guidebook as being about “ecological recreation – something to be enjoyed best when one gets out and walks”. As we expect from Ansel, included are notes on photography, described as a way of “crystalizing” one’s experience. Since the books on my shelves have enriched my experience of our national parks, I have tried to pass that forward, envisioning Treasured Lands as an informative and useful book. Even though three-fourths of the pages are filled up with photographs in a design that honors them, I managed to squeeze in 140,000 words. Of all the feedback I received from readers, maybe the most gratifying has been to hear that the book enriched their experience of our national parks. I hope that one of the books mentioned in this article will do that for you.

Since the total solar eclipse of April 8, 2024, would be the last in America until 2044, my main motivation was to witness the event as a family. This called for a different approach than the one I took for the eclipse of 2017. I had traveled with my younger in-laws to Grand Teton National Park, where on eclipse day we undertook a strenuous hike to a mountain summit with prime views of the Tetons. Such an inspiring setting could not be surpassed given the 2024 eclipse trajectory, but for the photographs I was planning to make, this would not matter.

Sticking with Texas

I thought of Niagara Falls or Newfoundland where the sun would be lower in the sky, but my wife Lanchi does not like the cold. Texas appealed since she had not traveled there before, it is the closest to California with plenty of amenities, is warm, and more importantly, its dry weather made it the most likely state to feature clear skies among all those on the path of totality. It was a popular choice. The day before the eclipse, at the cow parade in Fort Worth, TX, the MC proceeded with a demographic survey. Judging by the replies and raised hands, as many had come from out of state and abroad as from Texas.

We were initially aiming for a quick trip, but when I started to look for flights to Texas in January (too late!), all the dates close to the eclipse were unusually expensive. Driving from California was not a great option since our children had only limited time because of college – eclipse day fell after Spring Break. To minimize expenses, we planned to fly in well ahead of the eclipse, and out several days afterward. On the day of our flight, clouds were predicted for the entire state of Texas, whereas, improbably, the weather for New England where my in-laws were heading was predicted to be clear, but at that point good flights were so costly that we stuck to our initial plans, thinking that even if the eclipse did not work out, it would still be a pleasant trip.

We had secured a lodging reservation for the evening of the eclipse in Austin, TX. On the weekend before the eclipse, we had made it to Hot Springs, AR, home to Atlas Obscura’s Ecliptic Festival, and also the smaller National Park Service’s “Eclipse Fest!” on Arlington Lawn. Both cities and the main highway between them were on the path of totality. We could therefore choose an eclipse site anywhere along a 500-mile stretch. The short-term forecast predicted clouds anywhere along it, but it appeared slightly better for Arkansas than for Texas. When we took a vote, the children opted to try to watch the eclipse in Texas, as there is more to do there. They had seen enough of Hot Springs National Park. It was an ironic coincidence that the other national park on the path of the eclipse, Cuyahoga Valley National Park, shares with Hot Springs the dubious distinction of being frequently ranked among the “worse national parks”, while another frequent contender, Gateway Arch National Park, was at 99% totality.

Eclipse Day

The planned eclipse viewing location was by a lake in a Texas State Park. It was reasonably scenic and promised a quieter experience than urban city parks, an important point for Lanchi, who didn’t want crowds. It helped that entry was subject to reservations with quotas – unlike California and federal parks, Texas charges per visitor and not per car. However, on the morning of the eclipse in Fort Worth, TX, the sky was almost entirely cloudy, and Lanchi thought that the weather would degrade as the day went on since thunderstorms were predicted for the evening. Losing belief in our chances to see the eclipse, we abandoned our plans to go to the State Park. For an ongoing project, I had wanted to photograph at Waco Mammoth National Monument, and since it is close to the totality centerline, we thought we might as well head there. On the highway, the weather was overcast. At the entrance, we saw cars turn around after speaking to a ranger, which made us worry that the park was full, but it turned out he was telling prospective visitors that there was a long wait to get into the dig shelter.

The park service distributed free eclipse viewers, closed the dig shelter for the eclipse duration, and let people park on one side of the road. After strolling to the other side of the road with our picnic blanket and shade umbrellas, we settled on the grass with a good view of the sky. It was relaxing and convenient, the only drawback being that the area was too forested to provide views of the horizon and its 360-degree sunset.

We were concerned that if we gave up our parking spot, we may not be able to find a better one elsewhere. Since when we arrived, the clouds were prevalent and the sun poked out of them only occasionally, I did not attempt to record the phases of the eclipse. But at least, things were looking up since we sometimes saw the sun. Being under trees, we observed the leaves forming natural pinholes that projected crescent suns on my daughter’s sketchbook.

Just five minutes before totality, the sun was hidden by a dark cloud, but it looked like it could emerge. It did, and we had a clear view of the eclipse. What a stroke of luck! I subsequently read the same occurred in Dallas and Austin, maybe because the eclipse cooled the air, helping dissipate the clouds. Later in the afternoon, by the time we arrived in Austin -without the anticipated traffic delays-, it started raining.

During a total solar eclipse, people on Earth witness a rare phenomenon: the sun’s outer atmosphere, called the corona, becomes visible. Ordinarily, the corona is obscured by the intense light emitted from the sun’s surface. However, during the brief period of totality in an eclipse, when the moon completely covers the sun, the corona emerges, appearing as a radiant white halo encircling the darkened moon. It could be that on that day, there was some diffuse cloud cover because while the inner corona around the sun was bright, the streamers extending further from the sun were faint, at least compared to the 2017 eclipse – the 11,000ft elevation of our mountain top viewing site may have helped with air purity. Refer to the next section for photos that show more of the corona.

Scientists anticipated that this particular eclipse, occurring during the peak of the sun’s 11-year activity cycle, would offer unique views. Their expectations were fulfilled as the sun exhibited spectacular prominences, which are massive loops of plasma extending from its surface. The largest of them were visible to the naked eye, whereas in 2017 I didn’t remember seeing any. Solar prominences appear reddish due to their plasma originating from deeper layers of the sun’s atmosphere, specifically the chromosphere. This layer is characterized by high-temperature hydrogen emissions that emit red light. These prominences, which made this eclipse special, were faintly captured all around the moon’s outline at the beginning of totality (photo above). As the moon moved over the sun, some of the prominences became obscured, while others became more visible.

The edge of the moon is not a smooth circle because the moon’s surface features peaks and valleys. The most pronounced prominences were located near the bottom and right edges of the moon’s outline at the end of totality, and they were bright enough to be visible even at the “diamond ring” phase when the sun began to reappear.

Photographing the Eclipse

That the surroundings were not anything special wasn’t an issue for the rest of the family, and also for me. In 2017, I focussed my efforts on capturing the eclipse within the landscape, which was as spectacular as it could be. Using wide-angle lenses remains my preferred option, as it reflects more of my experience, the connection of the sky to the land, and offers creative composition options. However, the 2024 eclipse occurs close to midday (1:40 pm) when the sun is high, and the landscape of Central Texas is not exactly superlative. Therefore, this time I tried my hand at capturing a close-up of the sun with a telephoto. I brought two Sony cameras, one with a 100-400mm lens with 1.4 converter mounted on a beefy series 3 tripod for stills, the other with a 70-300mm lens on a series 2 tripod that I planned to use to capture the eclipse in cropped format video. I was hoping that the stills would capture a wide range of brightness, whereas the video would provide the temporal resolution – and could also be converted to time-lapse.

Photographing a close-up of the eclipse is quite challenging. With a telephoto, the sun moves surprisingly quickly in the frame, and even locating it is not as obvious as it may seem. The exposure range for the different elements of the eclipse is wide. At my settings of ISO 200, f/8, here are the ideal exposures: diamond rings 1/4000s, prominences 1/2000s, inner corona near the sun 1/125s, outer corona 1s, which represents a range of 12 f-stops or a range of brightness of 1 to 4000. In addition, when you photograph the eclipse with wide-angle lenses, no filter is necessary, but with telephotos, a solar filter is required to avoid damage to the camera sensor during the partial phases. The filter is extremely dark, usually optical density ND 5.0, which translates to a transmittance of 0.001%, or the equivalent of 16 f-stops. Needless to say, it changes the exposure most dramatically and has to be removed during totality. Both of my filters were made by stretching Baader Astrosolar film over square mounts. I had planned to use the partial phase for practice, but the clouds had prevented me from doing so. When the sun began to emerge, I was still fine-tuning things, which put me in a rush. Consequently, I forgot to remove the filter from my second camera. During the flight from California to Texas, I refreshed my memory by browsing Alan Dyer’s eclipse book, probably the most comprehensive resource on the subject. As the author cautions against any setup where you have to remove the solar filter on more than one camera, I asked Lanchi to remove the filter from the second camera. However, in the excitement of the moment, she also forgot about it, resulting in a video of the eclipse that is totally black. Oops!

I still came home with a collection of still images of varying exposures from the main camera. The eye and brain form a mental image that incorporates all the elements, from the prominences to the outer corona, but rendering them in a photograph entails compromises. No photograph can capture the magic of seeing the eclipsed sun. In images with short exposures shown in the previous section, the prominences appeared natural, but only the inner corona is visible. The first image and detail were a single exposure, while the second blended two frames to control the massive flare caused by the diamond ring, which was surprisingly brief compared to 2017. To incorporate the outer corona, I tried Alan Dyer’s techniques (his image is here), compositing many exposures blended with luminosity masks, and strengthening the corona’s structure with high-pass sharpening. This resulted in a file of 3GB with 14 Photoshop layers. The longer exposures even brought two stars to the left of the sun (above). However, for this eclipse, even exposures as long as 2 seconds did not help in showing the outer corona streamers. I found that blending fewer images provided a more realistic rendering (below). Which of the two images of the corona do you prefer?

As I anticipated, my eclipse photographs of 2024 are not distinctive, and how could they have been? The 2017 eclipse demonstrated that scores of photographers aiming telephoto lenses at the moon-obscured sun would yield countless variations of essentially the same image, differing primarily in the level of skill in their processing — of which mine is not notably high. Yet, I, like scores of others, still wanted to photograph the eclipse for myself and then share it. Here is maybe the most unique power of photography. Even if it is a poor substitute for our visual experience, a photograph serves as tangible evidence of our presence, a testament unmatched by any other medium. Were you there? I’d enjoy seeing your photos.

Imagine standing next to the ancient Nankoweap Granaries, perched 500 feet above the majestic Colorado River. From this vantage point, the Grand Canyon reveals itself in all its splendor—a testament to the power of nature. As you gaze down at the fast waters below, framed by towering cliffs that have stood for millennia, you’re filled with a sense of wonder and awe. With each click of the shutter, you immortalize not just a scene, but a connection between past and present, nature and civilization.

An interactive VR 360 degrees panorama of the scene in the late afternoon can be seen here. This is only one of the extraordinary scenes you are privileged to photograph each day, as we intimately explore one of the world’s greatest natural wonders. Here are another high view, a river-level view, and a side canyon.

Despite the grandeur of the canyon when viewed from its rim, its true beating heart resides within the Colorado river. However immense the landscape, rafting along the Colorado River within the Grand Canyon offers a remarkably personal encounter where you experiencing the sheer vastness firsthand, from within its depths. You are not merely observing the canyon, you are living in it. Journeying along the river presents a captivating spectacle for the eyes. Each curve reveals fresh vistas: sunlight dancing on the canyon walls, mirrored reflections on the surface, intricate rock structures and steep cliffs meeting the water’s edge – the list goes on.

This ten-day Grand Canyon Rafting expedition workshop is unlike anything that you have experienced. You will grin from ear to ear as we navigate safely some of the world’s most famous rapids, sleeping under the stars each night by the side of the river (camping equipment provided). For ten days, you will experience the camaraderie of a wilderness expedition, away from phones, the internet, and civilization. Although you will be challenged, anyone in decent physical shape should do fine. No rafting experience is needed, as our experienced crew operates the raft, sets up camp, and prepares all the three delicious daily meals.

I can affirm that a rafting trip down the Grand Canyon is one of the most outstanding experiences to be had in America’s national parks because before I took a ten-year hiatus from leading workshops to work on my books, the last workshop I led was precisely such a trip – it produced all the photographs on this page. With Treasured Lands and Our National Monuments in best-seller territory, I am resuming workshops. To restart with a bang, I have decided to co-lead another rafting trip down the Grand Canyon in partnership with my friend Oliver Klink from May 1-12, 2025. Not only Oliver is a widely exhibited and published fine art photographer, but he is also a very experienced photography educator who has led several dozen workshops – including our previous Grand Canyon river expedition.

While a rafting trip down the Grand Canyon is always one of the greatest adventures to be had anywhere, with regular trips, photographers can be disappointed by the choice and timing of the stops and camps which cater to participants with vastly varied interests. For this trip, one of only a handful of photography workshops offered down the Grand Canyon next year, the custom itinerary has been designed with only one goal in mind: to maximize photographic potential given the constraints of floating the Colorado River, where there is no going back upstream. With a ratio of participants to instructors of 6, you benefit from individual mentoring to hone your photographic skills and leave with incredible images. The guides we have chosen have a tremendous knowledge of the place and understand our photographic priorities. You will be traveling only with fellow photographers. Each day, we explore different hidden secrets of the Grand Canyon accessible only by the river from huge caverns to sculpted slot canyons, waterfalls, reflecting pools, hanging gardens, seeps, springs, and ancient granaries, photographing at the best possible time of the day to create prized images of sight seen by few.

Waiting lists for Grand Canyon private river permits can be more than 10 years. Even guided river trips fill up fast, and our river running company asks for a commitment a year in advance.

Update April 25, 2024: the raft is full, but if you are interested, I suggest you sign up for the wait list, as we are working on adding a second raft with 5 participants. This will also guarantee that you will be among the first to get notified of a similar trip offering in the future – the earliest would be 2026, since per National Park Service regulations, for everybody except river guides, there is a limit of one river trip per calendar year.

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In 2015, the China Photographic Publishing House released the book Landscape Photography – American Master Photographers on Their Art, featuring the work of nine American photographers (in order of appearance): Art Wolfe, Charles Cramer, David Muench, Clyde Butcher, QT Luong, Tom Till, Tom Murphy, Elizabeth Carmel, and Ian Plant. Since it was about studying how each of the photographers developed their way of seeing the world and their means of artistic expression, I thought the contents would be of interest.

The now out-of-print book was written in Chinese by Chinese-American photographer David Tian, the author of four books, based on research and telephone interviews. Being of Vietnamese ancestry, I cannot read or understand Chinese, so I wondered what the book said about me and my photography.

It finally occurred to me to try automated computer translation. The software had been around for a while, but the translations from the early years were not satisfactory. I write our annual family newsletter in English. A few years ago, as a relative in France found it difficult to read, I sent her a French version generated by Google Translate, after which she complimented me on having maintained such good written French language skills. Mandarin Chinese is another ball game. Although the most widely spoken language in the world, it is the hardest language to master. This applies to computers: Google Translate produced broken English.

Each of the book’s nine chapters consists of a narrative biography, an interview with questions and answers, and a selection of images with comments by David Tian. Since I thought that my biography wouldn’t be of much interest to the readers of this blog, I will be skipping it and starting with the interview. When I tried to clean up the automated translation with Chat GPT, the re-write sometimes deviated significantly from my remembrances of the answers, which were supposed to be my words – although probably distorted by the interview process. I used the automated translation as a reference to re-write each of the answers, so they may not be a literal translation. The original chapter in Chinese, whose spreads are shown below, is available as a PDF.

Questions and Answers

David Tian: What does landscape photography mean to you?

QT Luong: Landscape photography is my vehicle for personal connections with nature, the adventures of getting to locations, the joy of immersion in landscapes, and experiencing them at the best times of the day and year. It is my way of living a creative life and inspiring others. Moreover, landscape photography enables me to advocate for environmental conservation by celebrating the land and bringing awareness of its beauty and fragility.

How did you start landscape photography?

My father was a rather serious photographer and taught me the essentials. However, my passion for photography truly ignited during my mountaineering expeditions in the early 1990s. Captivated by the stunning vistas of the mountains, I felt compelled to capture these moments through photography so that I could remember them and share them with folks at home who could not reach the high peaks of the Alps. As I moved to America in 1993, I was inspired by the country’s diverse national parks and the rich history of American landscape photography. This prompted me to delve deeper into the art form, ultimately leading me to embrace large-format photography.

What kind of education have you received?

After Ecole Polytechnique in the mid-1980s, I obtained a PhD in computer science from the University of Paris in 1992. I conducted research in image processing and artificial intelligence until 2007 when I embarked on a new path as a full-time photographer. I studied photography on my own, mostly by reading lots of books and looking at lots of photographs.

What makes a landscape photograph wonderful?

An excellent landscape photograph needs two elements. The first is composition. Composition is how the photographer approaches the subject matter, using formal elements to guide the viewer through the image. The second is what I’d loosely call atmosphere. This means conveying a sense of place and time, and also the personal experience and emotions of the photographer.

How do you analyze a scene before shooting?

When approaching a scene, I make an inventory of its visual elements and try to zero in on what visually attracts me the most. I contemplate the emotions and themes that the scene evokes. I evaluate the potential of different viewpoints and lighting conditions. By analyzing these factors, I strive to create images that resonate with viewers on an aesthetic and emotional level.

What do you want to show the world with your work?

Through my photography, I aim to showcase the beauty and diversity of the natural world and foster a deeper understanding of it. Each image, and even more so, each set of images, serves as an invitation for viewers to experience what I experienced, to explore and connect with the wonders of nature. My hope is they will be inspired to appreciate and protect our planet’s precious landscapes.

You only shoot in color. What is your favorite aspect of color photography?

While I always capture the scenes in color, I occasionally explore black-and-white photography. However, I find that color photography allows me to convey a richer, more complete, and more faithful description of the natural world. Color can also add a powerful emotional impact to any image, helping to capture the immersive experience and sense of wonder of being present in nature.

What inspired you to photograph all of America’s national parks?

My first wilderness experiences took place on the high peaks of the Alps because those were the last wild places in Europe. It was mostly glaciated mountains above the tree line. When I started to visit America’s national parks, I was drawn to their natural diversity. In terms of geography and biodiversity, they represented all the different facets of a vast continent. I wanted to exhaust every opportunity to experience that natural diversity. As a self-assigned project, I aimed to create a set of photographs that would try to do justice to their splendor.

What are your plans for landscape photography in the future?

I am continuing the project to photograph nature in America’s national parks, with the goal of publishing a book in 2016. This could be extended in the long term to other U.S. public lands or international parklands, maybe in Canada and Mexico. In parallel, I have begun to pay more attention to the cultural aspect of the national parks, the man-made constructs that differentiate them from pure wilderness and define the park experience for many visitors such as visitor centers, interpretive signs.

Images and comments

The bulk of the chapter featured images selected by the author, with comments written by him. I was amused by two geographic errors. They are understandable as the result of the author mismatching my writings available on the Internet, something easy to do if you are not familiar with locations. I normally offer to fact-check articles written about me and I am always surprised that many authors decline that step. However, with the chapter written in Chinese, this would not have been practical. Since those were not my words and the Google translation was unreadable, I used Chat GPT to rewrite it into proper English. The text below is the raw result of this process, except for a few instances where I have corrected translation mistakes.

Northern Lights and Jupiter, Gates of the Arctic National Park, Alaska, USA. Canon EOS 5D Mark II camera, 24mm lens, f/1.4 at 8 sec.

That year, Luong and his friends had planned a trip to Alaska to photograph the eagerly anticipated Northern Lights. Upon reaching Gates of the Arctic National Park, they consulted with the park ranger and discovered that in September, during the third and fourth weeks, the river would still be flowing, and the night sky would be dark (unlike the bright Arctic nights of summer). However, during the third week, there would be a bright moon at night, so they opted for the fourth week for their photography expedition. Since there were no roads leading to the park, they had to rely on a bush plane (a type of aircraft capable of taking off and landing in the wilderness without designated airstrips). Unfortunately, the weather took an unexpected turn in late September, and the pilots couldn’t guarantee a safe return. Consequently, they made the decision to paddle down the Koyukuk River for their journey back from the North Fork. “It was nearly winter in Alaska by then, and traversing the waterways was incredibly challenging,” Luong reminisced. “But amidst the rugged mountains, flowing waters, snow-covered terrain, and a stroke of luck, perhaps I would have the opportunity to capture some truly unique photographs.”

Buck Dam, willow trees, rocks and reflections, Joshua Tree National Park, California, USA. Canon EOS-1Ds Mark II camera, 100-400mm lens, f/11 at 1/30 sec.

With a plethora of famous national parks, many of the more remote and inaccessible locations often remain unphotographed. Luong, however, harbors a desire to explore these less-traveled places. While most photographers flock to Joshua Tree National Park to capture the iconic Joshua trees, cholla cacti, and unique rock formations, Luong remains determined to seek out new perspectives. Understanding the transient nature of landscapes, Luong focuses on capturing fleeting moments bathed in light. In one of his works, he seized the brief moment when the morning light cast its glow upon the water plants, creating a stark contrast against the dark rocks and water surface. This interplay of light and shadow infuses the image with a vibrant energy, showcasing Luong’s dedication to uncovering the unseen beauty of the natural world.

Yosemite Valley illuminated by sunset, Yosemite National Park, California, USA. Canham KBC 5X7 camera, 210mm lens, f/22 at 1/4 sec., Fuji Astia 100 film.

This renowned work by Luong epitomizes his unwavering pursuit of capturing the true essence of Yosemite Valley. Reflecting on his experience, Luong remarked, “No matter how extensively I explore, I cannot find a better location to truly encapsulate the beauty of Yosemite Valley.” He acknowledged the footsteps of Ansel Adams, a legendary photographer who frequented the area for his own captures. Luong vividly recalled a particular evening when he witnessed fog settling into the valley with a distinct opening on the horizon. Seizing the moment, he hastened to the scene and captured the rare spectacle, considering it a stroke of luck. For Luong, color plays a pivotal role in crafting the atmosphere of his compositions. He noted, “The granite walls exude a gray hue, accentuating the vibrant color contrast during sunset, when the golden-orange rays illuminate the cliff tops, starkly juxtaposed against the blue backdrop of the valley.” He emphasized the significance of fog in brightening the otherwise dark valley, enhancing the prominence of its blue tones and elevating the overall visual impact of the scene.

Yosemite Valley illuminated by sunset, Yosemite National Park, California, USA. Canon EOS-1Ds Mark II camera, 70-300mm lens, f/11 at 1/15 sec.

After exploring numerous national parks, Luong came to the realization that Yosemite held a magical allure, captivating not only climbers but also inspiring artists. Enthralled by its charm, he made it a ritual to return year after year. Despite the wealth of excellent works by talented photographers who came before him, Luong viewed this as an opportunity rather than a hindrance. He saw it as a benchmark against which to gauge and improve his own creations, constantly striving to innovate. In this photography haven, he believed that “often a new picture is just a few steps away.” While traditional American western landscape works often feature characters standing upright next to cliffs, gazing ahead, Luong’s approach diverges. In his work, the camera is positioned farther from the person, rendering them as small figures in the frame. Rather than serving as mere focal points, these characters serve to scale the landscape, effectively emphasizing the valley’s majestic beauty.

Indian Stone Arch and Milky Way, Yosemite National Park, California, USA. Canon EOS 5D Mark II camera, 15mm lens, f/2.8 at 60 sec.

For a photographer deeply immersed in artificial intelligence and computer image processing research, the perception of three-dimensional space within images and its correlation with two-dimensional compositions is akin to the principles governing geometry and spatial processing in computer image manipulation. This expertise serves as a valuable asset in his landscape photography endeavors. In this particular image, the photographer capitalizes on his understanding of the varying brightness of the night sky, spanning from the western horizon to directly overhead, to craft a sense of curvature in the sky. Combined with the stark contrast between the Milky Way and the dark stone arch, he ingeniously infuses the scene with an additional layer of spatial depth, enhancing the overall aesthetic appeal.

Crater Lake illuminated by sunset, Crater Lake National Park, Oregon, USA. Canham KBC 5X7 camera, 110mm lens, f/32 at 12 sec., Fuji Astia 100 film.

Luong emphasizes that landscape works should have a strong atmosphere, and he also understands that color plays an important role in rendering the atmosphere. In this photo of Lake Crater he took in winter, the atmosphere comes largely from the gorgeous clouds, the lake surface, and the pine trees and plots in the foreground, creating a color contrast against the snow. He also prominently expresses beauty in his works, “because I think the appreciation of beauty can rejuvenate our spirit and enhance our appreciation of richness and diversity. Recognition and respect for the colorful natural and cultural world.”

Starry sky and sedges illuminated by lightning, Everglades National Park, Florida, USA. Canon EOS 5D Mark III camera, Nikon 14-24mm lens, f/2.8, 30 sec.

This ambitious project to photograph all of America’s national parks was entirely conceived and completed by Luong himself, at his own expense. “This frees my creations from commercial demands and completely relies on my personal vision,” he explained. Leveraging the flexible photosensitive components in today’s digital cameras, with variable light sensitivity, Luong seamlessly combines elements such as stars, drifting clouds, and thunderstorms in the night sky with vivid details of the green grass in the foreground. This achievement, traditionally challenging in large-scale photography, is made possible through the advancements in digital technology, a feat difficult to achieve with reversal film. Through Luong’s digital and film works, it becomes evident that the evolution of science and technology not only revolutionizes photographers’ creative methods but also reshapes their perspectives and worldview. The sharp contrast between his works showcases how technological advancements are not merely altering the tools available to photographers but also influencing their creative ideas and perception of the world.

Sunlight through the mountains, Chamonix, France. Canham KBC 5X7 camera, 210mm lens with GND filter, f/22 at 1/2 sec., Fuji Velvia 50 film.

“I was originally a city kid who grew up as a scientist in France. More than 20 years ago, the call of the Alps changed my life,” reminisced Luong. Despite the Alps being in close proximity to worldly civilization, in his eyes, it represented another world entirely. His journey into photography began as a hobby rooted in mountain climbing, gradually shifting from climbing for the sake of ascent to climbing for the purpose of photography. Concurrently, his passion for landscape photography burgeoned, extending beyond a mere interest in mountaineering. This trajectory mirrors that of the late renowned American landscape photographer Galen Rowell. Undoubtedly, man is shaped by the earth, and the landscapes we inhabit influence the formation of our thoughts and ideas.

Translucent icebergs at dawn, Glacier Bay National Park, Alaska, USA. Canham KBC 5X7 camera, 110mm lens, f/32 at 15 sec., Fuji Velvia 50 film.

To capture immersive and poignant scenes at Glacier Bay National Park, Luong dedicated himself to learning kayaking in Santa Cruz, California. Since there were no land routes to the park, Luong and his wife embarked on an adventurous journey. They first flew to an Alaskan Eskimo village and then navigated by kayak along the Kobuk River to Glacier Bay, maneuvering through the majestic icebergs. Luong’s profound passion for nature photography stems from his belief that photography allows him to immerse himself in the natural world. He also deeply understands that love for nature arises from genuine comprehension and personal experiences.

Mossy maple trees in the Hoh rainforest, Olympic National Park, Washington State, USA. Canham KBC 5X7 camera, 210mm lens, f/45, 10 sec., Fuji Astia 100 film.

“When I had to curtail my mountaineering activities due to health reasons, I felt compelled to acquire other wilderness skills to navigate this new chapter,” reflected Luong. Embarking on the solitary journey of photographing all the US National Parks proved to be a fitting pursuit. As he traversed the diverse landscapes of these parks, he discovered that each location sparked distinct emotions within him, fostering a yearning for understanding and exploration. “Every unique place holds its own allure,” he mused, “and I am drawn to unraveling its mysteries.” Indeed, the connection between humanity and nature is profound; as we emerge from the natural world, we are inevitably drawn back to it. Every plant, tree, mountain, and body of water in nature carries its own resonance, shaping our thoughts and emotions in profound ways.

Cracked playa at sunrise, Black Rock Desert, Nevada, USA. Canham KBC 5X7 camera, 110mm lens, f/22, 1 sec., Fuji Velvia 50 film.

Luong believes that the 5×7 format is most suitable for landscape photography compared to the larger 8×10 format. This preference stems from the fact that the 5×7 camera is lighter and more portable, yet still offers a large enough film size to capture intricate details that evoke his visual memory of each moment. Working with a 5×7 camera requires a slower, more deliberate approach, with each scene meticulously composed and photographed multiple times. This thoughtful method of working allows him to create photographs that convey rich visual content with precision. Using a 110mm wide-angle lens specifically designed for the 5×7 format, Luong can capture expansive scenery within the frame, providing viewers with a sense of immersion as if they were actually present at the scene. In this particular work, the cracks in the land are depicted from foreground to background, accentuating both the depth of field and the textural intricacies of the flat landscape.

Thunder and lightning, Big Bend National Park, Texas, USA. Canon EOS 3 camera, 28-135mm lens, f/4, 15 sec., Fuji Velvia 50 film.

“While traveling, I dedicate a significant portion of my time to scouting locations. I prefer to embark on multiple short trips to a particular area, allowing me to observe its conditions across various seasons and weather patterns,” explained QT Luong. “Through extensive exploration, I’ve come to realize the importance of selecting subjects based on prevailing weather conditions, rather than fixating on a predetermined subject and waiting for ideal conditions to materialize. This approach ensures that I always have subjects ready to photograph.” Luong shared with his colleagues that experiencing a place in different seasons offers entirely distinct perspectives, likening it to visiting a completely different park altogether. This diversity provides him with the opportunity to capture a wide array of images, each imbued with its own unique essence and character.

My tripod survey mentioned that the quest for the ultimate tripod was still ongoing. I convinced myself that my next general-purpose tripod could be, finally, the last one I bought. With that in mind, I removed the budget as a consideration and set up to look for the perfect tripod. Read on to see which tripod I chose, and more importantly, why.

Induro CLT203, RRS TVC-24L, RSS TFC-33, Gitzo 325

Feature requirements

Horses for course. There is no perfect tripod for every photographer and every situation. Knowing that in some travel and outdoor contexts I will have to compromise for a lighter or smaller tripod (if any at all), I looked for one that would work best for me when carrying a full-size tripod is feasible, which is most of the time. Personal preferences vary, but having used a lot of different tripods, I have a good idea of the features I wanted. The following are easy to assess:

• No center column. Having owned tripods with and without a center column, I’ve occasionally found the column useful for a quick adjustment or to reach more height, but those situations are rare enough that I prefer the weight savings, lower minimum height, simplicity, and higher rigidity of a tripod without a center column. A small, but significant advantage of tripods without a center column is that they are easier to carry by hand when folded because there is a space between the legs for your fingers.
• Three leg sections. Having owned both three-section and four-section tripods, I have developed a strong preference for the three-section tripods: faster to set up and fold, and higher rigidity. Compactness matters only in urban settings.
• Eye-level height. I am 5’11” (70″ or 1.8 m) tall. To be able to look into the viewfinder while standing straight, I need a tripod at least 58″ tall. Except for the series 3 Gitzo, all the full-size tripods I have owned reach about 52-54″. Even after adding the height of the ballhead, this required me to stoop down a little when using the tripod at full extension. While this sounds like a minor inconvenience, if I spend a lot of time composing, the discomfort adds up to my posture problem, and aging has not improved matters.

No less important, but more subjective:

• Smooth operation. This means how easy it is to lock and unlock the legs, slide the legs in and out, and adjust the leg angle.
• Stiffness. The tripod has to hold a camera steadily and produce a sharp picture with long exposures even in windy conditions – not a given even with a good-quality tripod. This is subjective because no tripod will work in gale-force winds, so it is a question of “how good is good enough”.
• Lightest possible weight given the previous requirements.

Narrowing the choice

Thirty years ago, it was next to impossible to find tripods below series 3 without a center column. Fortunately now one can choose from several manufacturers. Because of my previous experience, I eliminated Feisol. FLM CP30-L4 II and CP34-L4 II tripods looked promising, but unfortunately, they have four sections, and if used as three-section tripods (with the last section retracted) reach only 51.5″. In addition, their stiffness is slightly subpar. Likewise, Gitzo doesn’t have a series 2 without a center column, and I had reservations about the Gitzos I owned. This left two main contenders, Really Right Stuff (RSS) and Pro Media Gear (PMG). Both are family-owned companies that manufacture their tripods in the USA to exacting standards. They charge premium prices that in the past had deterred me because of my unfortunate tendency to damage or lose tripods. With a much more extensive product line, RSS is much better known, but as a result, I am prejudiced against them because of the owner’s politics. In addition, PMG was more responsive to queries.

RRS offers a full range of tripods from series 1 to series 5. Many consider them to be the best in the business. Examining the tripods quickly shows why. Besides impeccable build and operation, they feature a leg diameter larger than any other tripods of the same class. For instance, the series 2 RSS TVC-23 leg diameters of the top section are 33mm as compared to 28mm for a Gitzo series 2 and 32mm for a Gitzo series 3. By the way, in case you are wondering about the word “series”, initially series 2 referred to a tripod having a top leg diameter in the 20-29mm range, series 3 in the 30-39mm range, etc… If one ascribes a cross-manufacturer significance to this nomenclature, it could be argued that RSS labeling of their tripods is an anomaly. It also helps that RRS was the first to offer tripods of series 2 and smaller without a center column and chose a wide leg angle spread – more on this point later. The best series 2 tripod is probably the RSS TVC-23 which extends to 52″ and would be perfect for someone about 5’4″. But for someone taller, any series 2 tripods with three sections and no center column do not quite reach eye level. The TVC-24L needs all four sections to reach eye level and isn’t all that light or stiff.

RSS TFC-33 and TVC-24L tripods

Series 3 options

This led me to series 3 tripods, which are offered by both RSS and PMG. Both manufacturers offer short legs (RRS TVC-33S, PMG TR343) and full-size legs (RRS TVC-33, PMG TR343L), the latter extending to comparable heights of 58.4″ and 59.3″. In addition, there is the choice of two different apexes. The apex, also called the spider, is the part that holds the legs together. The wider apex is modular since its central plate can be removed to accommodate a center column, a leveling head, or a video bowl. Its width provides a larger base suitable for larger heads and adds stability because the pivot point of the legs is higher. The compact apex is lighter and results in a smaller folded diameter for the tripod.

RRS wide-apex tripods are prefixed as “TVC”, while their compact apex series are prefixed as “TFC”. RSS lists the TVC-33 at 1890g and the TFC-33 at 1690g – I measured 1735g on my scale. PMG prefixes their wide-apex tripods TR and their compact apex tripods TRS. Some configurations do not have a compact apex offering, but to convert the relevant tripods from wide apex to compact apex or vice-versa, you can buy directly from their website the other apex and swap it in fifteen minutes. Although they don’t list them, RRS can also sell you an apex. The compact apexes of both brands are designed to be the most compact possible and keep the folded legs parallel. Personally, I would have preferred something slightly larger to leave just enough room for fingers between the folded legs.

PMG listed the weight of the TRS01 Compact Apex as 175g, and the T34A01 Wide Apex as 420g. This would have resulted in a weight savings of 245g, putting the weight of a TR343L with compact apex and without spikes at 1565g, less than my Induro CLT203, a series 2 tripod considerably less stiff and which doesn’t reach eye level without a center column. An easy choice! I was disappointed that the measured weights were 200g for the compact apex and 325g for the wide apex. Since the latter includes a large spirit level and a beefy hook (both removable, totaling 30g) absent in the compact apex, the real difference in weight of 1840g versus 1725g isn’t that significant.

PMG T34A01 Wide Apex and TRS01 Compact Apex

Performance and Leg angle

Procedures for quantifying the performance of camera sensors or lenses are well-established and results abundant, but the same cannot be said of tripods. David Berryrieser was the first to create a framework for testing tripods that results in repeatable measurements. He created the excellent website thecentercolumn.com to publish his methodology and results while he was a physics graduate student at Stanford University. The irony is that in the site, he explains why using a center column invariably lowers tripod performance. David’s measurements are extensive, but he summarized the performance of a tripod in terms of stiffness with a single numerical score. Here are those numbers for some tripods:

tripod                height   weight sections stiffness
                     (inches)   (lbs)
RRS TVC-33	       58.4     4.30	 3       2184	 
Gitzo GT3533LS         59.7     4.58     3       2147
PMG TR343L	       59.3	4.12     3       1783	
FLM CP34-L4 II	       68.0	4.17	 4       1393
	
RRS TVC-23	       51.9	3.37     3       1941
RRS TVC-24L	       66.1	3.97     4       1132
Gitzo GT2542           53.7	3.74	 4       1181
FLM CP30-L4 II	       68.0	3.23     4     	  792
Feisol CT-3342	       56.8	2.53     3        628

By David’s results, the RRS tripods have the best stiffness-to-weight ratio of any tripods. The PMG doesn’t perform as well as the RRS (and Gitzo), but still strong when compared to all other tripods. David notes:

I found that the leg angle has a dramatic effect on the stiffness of the tripod. The wider the stance the better. The PMG has a relatively narrow leg angle at 21.8 degrees. Compare this to 23 degrees for the Gitzo and 26 degrees for the top ranking RRS. If the PMG had a 26 degree leg angle, I estimate that the yaw stiffness would be roughly 25% better which would probably make the PMG the top performer. Its frustrating that so many manufacturers uses a narrow leg angle. I can understand the appeal, a smaller lighter, cheaper, taller tripod. But the yaw stiffness really takes a big hit for modest gains in those other categories. It is frustrating in the case of the PMG precisely because everything else about the tripod is exceptional.

The comment about the leg angle correlates with my observation about the Feisol tripod. It looks like PMG has been paying attention since they subsequently switched to a 24-degree leg angle. After completing his PhD in 2021, David moved on, but so far the framework he created remains the only available. He has not updated thecentercolumn.com or re-tested the PMG, but I trust his prediction that the revised PMG performs in the same ballpark as the RRS. With that in mind, the PMG and RRS tripods with compact apex are the lightest meeting my requirements. They are a bit heavier than my series 2 tripods, but not by that much.

Features: RRS v. PMG

If not performance, here are the differences I saw between what RSS and PMG tripods:

• RRS has a slightly larger leg diameter (37/32/28 mm vs 34/30/26 mm) and is slightly heavier.
• Unlike RSS and most of the competition, PMG’s leg locks are all metal and have no rubber parts. They may be more durable but less comfortable to operate, especially in cold temperatures.
• PMG’s tripod feet include spikes (for use on outdoor soft surfaces) that when not in use are cleverly stored inside the tripod tubes by screwing them in reverse to the inside part of the feet. Removing them for weight savings (60g) leaves holes in the feet that would have to be plugged, maybe with a short 3/8-16 screw. The downside it that the feet are non-standard. Most other high end tripods, including RRS, come with a 3/8″ screw hole at the bottom of each leg that can accept a much wider choice of feet with that thread.
• On each leg of a PMG tripod, one of the two main bolts serving as the pivot is secured in place by another smaller bolt, therefore ensuring that the main bolt will never rotate relative to the leg. That rotation of the bolt relative to the leg, and the resulting floppy legs was a major issue with one of my Gitzo tripods and a complaint I had read about RSS, so I welcome this design detail.
• Although both are some of the most expensive tripods, PMG is slightly less expensive ($1,100 v $1,165 for the wide apex version as of this writing), especially considering that if you want spikes, RSS charges an extra $100, and that PMG periodically offers special discounts in the 5-10% range for signing up for their mailing/SMS list.

All those differences are relatively minor. Both feature top-notch construction and function. In the end, small considerations add up, and I bought the PMG. It replaces both my Induro CLT203 (which I will keep for iffy situations such as canyoneering or sea kayaking) and Gitzo 325. Currently, all my older tripods require me to pull out the legs to set them up. With the PMG, if I just unlock the leg locks after holding the tripod up, the legs extend themselves by gravity. It will be interesting to see how long the operation remains this smooth. I expect this to be my last tripod article but will update it to report if the PMG TR343L holds up to be the ultimate tripod.

PMG TR-343L with wide apex and compact apex

At last, I am releasing a body of work featuring landscape photographs made where I live, which means within half an hour from home. And if that wasn’t enough of a change in the practice of someone known for large-format photography of national parks and other public lands all around the country – itself a subset of extensive travels spanning five continents, I altered my photography process and then chose to present the images in black and white.

The continuity with my work in parklands is that, as briefly announced before, I made each of the new photographs while hiking within a local park or preserve. Galen Rowell had remarked in Bay Area Wild (reviewed here) that the Bay Area’s greenbelt rivals that of the country of Costa Rica, a much-touted eco-travel destination. Although only a small slice of the Bay Area’s diversity, I am fortunate to be able to access more than twenty nature parks within a half-an-hour drive from my home in San Jose, California. Over the past year and a half, we visited those oakland and chaparral habitats more than sixty times. On this page, I am showing twenty-five photographs, like on a short roll of film with the extra leader shot. They are from nineteen of the local parks, approximately from north to south:

• Mission Peak Regional Preserve,
• Ed Levin County Park,
• Rancho San Antonio County Park,
• Stevens Creek County Park,
• Fremont Older Preserve,
• Lexington Reservoir County Park,
• Heintz Open Space,
• Santa Rosa Open Space,
• Sierra Vista Open Space Preserve,
• Alum Rock Park,
• Joseph Grant County Park,
• Almaden Quicksilver County Park,
• Santa Teresa County Park,
• Calero County Park,
• Canada del Oro Open Space Preserve,
• Coyote Valley Open Space Preserve,
• Coyote Ridge Open Space Preserve,
• Coyote Lake Harvey Bear Ranch County Park,
• Uvas Canyon County Park.

The Process

With the sole exception of the San Jose city skyline captured at dusk with the 100-400 lens on a tripod from Rancho San Antonio County Park, I made all photographs with the trusty 24-105 lens handheld, and more or less at midday.

Why midday? I made the photographs during family hikes, generally of about five miles, where the main purpose is having a good time exercising in nature. Initially, when it was only my wife and me, sometimes we went in the afternoon aiming to be at home before dinner time. Last year we were joined by two of my wife’s sisters. Although they prefer mornings, this group of night owls doesn’t care for sunrises, as early winter mornings are chilly, while in the summer the sun rises way too early. Anyway, unlike national parks, city and county parks are not open around the clock, and for most of the year, the sun is quite high in the sky when they officially open in the morning. As the saying goes, when life gives you lemons, make lemonade. For a long time, I have embraced the challenge of photographing at midday, even in the places that would appear less conducive to this approach. There is value for one’s creative growth to try to do work in less favorable conditions.

Why handheld? During all my life, while traveling, I have often stopped the family either on the road, the street, or the trail to photograph. Those periods of time invariably felt short to me, but long to them. For the recent family hikes, I made a change, resolving not to make anybody wait for me. We sustain a brisk pace of about 2.5 miles per hour, with a picnic midway. As I never backtrack while walking, I try to anticipate possibilities before they present themselves, which is part of pre-visualization – seeing what does not yet exist. Once I walk a hundred more yards, this tree will stop merging confusingly with that valley but instead detach itself against a more uniform hillside. It is great a exercise for the mind. When the anticipated composition appears, working purely by instinct, I make only minor adjustments to its framing. Taking up large-format photography in the early 1990s changed my photography practice by forcing me to become more deliberate and contemplative. Trying to photograph the landscape quickly and with no second chances shakes up again my process. There is value for one’s creative growth to do work with self-imposed constraints, and also in trying new things. Even though I always feel that I took the picture quickly, it is surprising how much one finds themselves behind on the trail in less than a minute. I then walk faster or jog to catch up with the group. It is also a great exercise for the body.

Black and White Photography

I hesitated to present this work in black and white, a first for me although these days I sell about the same number of prints in black and white as I do in color. The primary function of a photograph is to describe what is in front of the camera, and there is no denying that a color photograph offers a more complete description of the world. Although in the Bay Area the changes brought by the seasons are more limited than elsewhere, our hills turn from electric green to golden and then brown over the course of the year. Although unspectacular our autumn foliage (autumn colors in black and white?) still adds accents, feelings, and beauty to the landscape. On the other hand, unlike in other places such as the Colorado Plateau, our landscapes are not filled with colors that one would have any difficulty imagining. Presenting the work in black and white links it to a rich tradition of landscape photography, elevating those modest scenes by emphasizing their formal and abstract qualities over our everyday perception of them.

Do you think that the monochrome photographs in this body of work are missing something? I would be grateful if you answer this single question below, and even more so if you would say why you think so in the comment section at the end of this post. As with every time there is a poll I may not comment further to avoid influencing answers.(click here if you don’t see the question below)

Wynn Bullock (1902-1975) worked almost exclusively near his home in the Monterey Peninsula, yet in his pursuit of what exists in the world beyond ordinary perception, he created mysterious photographs that reached a universal, almost metaphysical quality. Their metaphorical meaning reveals the extraordinary behind the surface of things. In the mid-1990s, Moe’s bookstore shelves prominently displayed his just-published major Aperture monograph. Although his vision was opposite to my literal approach to photography, the work immediately caught my attention. It was the second book of black and white photography that I bought – the first one was The Portfolios of Ansel Adams.

My previous surveys of books by photographers who influenced me (Ansel Adams, Eliot Porter, Philip Hyde, and Galen Rowell) listed titles mostly about a specific subject, generally a place. In contrast, retrospectives are a collection of an artist’s greatest hits. Wynn Bullock’s books consist almost exclusively of retrospective monographs. To understand why, we should start with the fact that his initial career was as an internationally acclaimed lyric tenor. He took his first photos in 1929, but it was not until 1938 that he fully embraced photography by enrolling at the Art Center School in Los Angeles. To support his family, who initially lived in a trailer, Bullock operated a commercial photography business – often associated with Ford Ord – which occupied a large part of his time until he stopped taking assignments in 1968. His carefully considered seeing did not lead to a prolific output compared to other photographers working in the Monterey Peninsula such as Ansel Adams or the Westons, who sometimes overshadowed him. His photographs were never about specific subjects or places, but rather they concerned themselves with universal qualities such as space and time, the unity of opposites, and the distinction between existence and its perception. Although visually and thematically diverse, rather than forming distinct bodies of work, each of his photographs is part of a wider oeuvre. His first book The Widening Stream (1965) appeared quite late in his career and contained only 13 photographs, each faced with a short poem by Richard Mack. It wasn’t until 1971 that his first major monograph was published, and he would make his last photograph in 1973.

As of 2024, there are four major retrospective monographs devoted to Wynn Bullock’s work. All of them are out of print, but readily available on the used book market, at low cost except for the last one. Because their contents are relatively similar, comparing them provides instructive insights on the different ways one presents photographs in a book. For the sake of completeness, this article also briefly mentions all the other significant Wynn Bullock monographs.

There are a total of 349 reproductions in the four books drawn from a pool of 181 photographs. 81 appear in only one book, 50 appear in two books, 34 appear in three books, and 17 in all four books:

• Light, 1939
• Old Typewriter, 1951
• Driftwood, 1951
• Woman and Thistle, 1953
• Woman and Dog in Forest, 1953
• Burnt Chair, 1954
• Del Monte Forest, 1956
• Woman’s Hands, 1956
• Stark Tree, 1956
• Log and Horsetails, 1957
• Navigation Without Numbers, 1957
• Tide Pool, 1957
• Child on Forest Road, 1958
• Erosion, 1959
• Sea Palms, 1968
• Leaves in Cobwebs, 1969
• Pebble Beach, 1970

In addition, the following appear in the three later books, but were created after the printing of the first book:

• Point Lobos Rock, 1970
• Sycamore Tree Scar, 1971
• Tree Trunk, 1971
• Rock, 1973
• Wood, 1972
• Wood, 1973

Many of those photographs and others can be viewed on the Wynn Bullock Estate website. In the spirit of the “meta-list”, one can count a selection for a book as a vote for a photograph’s importance. If a photograph appears in three books, one could consider that the only book that doesn’t include it “missed” an important photograph.

Wynn Bullock (1971)

Scrimshaw Press was an independent publisher of fine art books operating out of San Francisco from 1969 to 1976. The wilderness photographer Dave Bohn, a multi-talented creative about whom I may write in the future, was one of its principals. After looking at the seven photographs in the catalog of an exhibit that Bullock just had at the San Francisco Museum of Art in 1969, Bohn immediately phoned Bullock to offer him a book. During the course of a single day, Bohn, Wynn Bullock, and his daughter Barbara selected the photographs, falling in agreement for all but one. Barbara would get involved in all the subsequent Wynn Bullock monographs either as a writer, editor, or consultant. Bohn spent the winter with those selections in a remote cabin in (then) Glacier Bay National Monument, where he designed the book. Nowadays, ambitious photographers with fewer than ten years of work feel that they need a book. Bullock first exhibited at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art (LACMA) in 1941 and regularly had shows in prestigious institutions worldwide since. Yet his first major monograph came at age 69 due to that fortuitous happening. Check out this remarkable video of an interview with Bohn and Bullock discussing the book.

Tide Pool, 1957. Top: Scrimshaw (note bleeds), Morgan & Morgan; Bottom: Aperture, High/Texas. Click to enlarge

Wynn Bullock is a well-crafted production with a tipped-in illustration on the cloth cover (10.25″x12.25″) under an acetate jacket. Inside, the attention to detail manifests itself in the use of two different paper stocks, a semi-glossy paper for the plates, and a matte paper for the introduction by Barbara Bullock and afterword by Dave Bohn, printed by letterpress. The reproduction quality is quite good, especially considering when the book was printed. The book is divided into four decades (40s, 50s, 60s, 70s), and adding further pauses, a few spreads consist of quotes from Bullock without images. Wanting to avoid the staidness of a catalog-style book, Bohn’s layout mixes image sizes ranging from quarter-page to double-page spread and also mixes bleeds in an unconventional way. In order to focus the attention on the images, the designer omitted photo titles and page numbers. As a result, photographs aren’t easy to reference. I was nevertheless able to determine that of the book’s 64 photos, 10 were not reprised in the three other books, and that the Scrimshaw Press book “missed” (in the sense defined earlier) 13 photos, including some of my favorites. Of those 13, the 6 previously listed had not yet been created. However, its production values, quirks, and debut character make it an endearing book. I was lucky to find a copy with the signature reproduced as the header of this article.

Wynn Bullock. Photography: A Way of Life (1973)

Willard Morgan introduced 35mm Leica photography to the United States in 1928, was the first picture editor of LIFE Magazine, and the first director of the Department of Photography at The Museum of Modern Art. Together with noted photographer Barbara Morgan, they founded Morgan & Morgan, a publisher of photography books that appears to have been active until 2004. Morgan & Morgan published a series of monographs uniform in a general format surveying the work of a single photographer. Like the previous title, the book starts with an introduction by Barbara Bullock which is also mostly about Wynn Bullock’s philosophical approach to photography. That essay lays out in more detail and with examples the four creative periods of Wynn Bullock’s life, spliting them with more precision than plain decades (1938-48, 1948-57, 1957-68, 1968-), however, the sequence of plates is continuous.

Child on Forest Road, 1958. Top: Scrimshaw, Morgan & Morgan (note brightness and contrast); Bottom: Aperture, High/Texas. Click to enlarge

Of the four books reviewed, Morgan & Morgan’s Wynn Bullock. Photography: A Way of Life has the smallest trim and the lowest reproduction quality. However, it is a solid reference book. The format is similar to that of a catalog, concluding with the usual list of plates, biography, bibliography, exhibitions, and collections. All the plates are reproduced with the same white margin and at the same size, half-page for horizontals and full page for verticals – a drawback of the 8.5×11″ format of the book. Their sequencing is mostly chronological. The last reproduction in the book, Wood, 1973 would turn out to be Bullock’s last photograph. Out of the book’s 88 photos, 62 did not appear in the Scrimshaw Press book, the last 20 because they are more recent. 26 photos would not appear in the two subsequent books, and 7 were “missed”, including Child in Forest, 1951. The book has the distinction of being published during Bullock’s lifetime while not preceding any new work. As announced by Tree Trunk (1971) on its cover – can you figure out the double reversal?, it is particularly strong on images of his later period, which are more abstract and anthropomorphic. A selection of six of those later images would be included together with six paragraphs of writing by Bullock in the handcrafted artist book The Photograph as Symbol (1976), the first title of The Artichoke Press, issued in an edition of 200.

Wynn Bullock. The Enchanted Landscape. Photographs 1940-1975 (1993)

Aperture is a non-profit organization founded in 1952 by Ansel Adams, Minor White, Barbara Morgan, Dorothea Lange, and others to publish fine art photography, a concept new at that time. They published a Wynn Bullock (1974) monograph as volume 4 of the series “Masters of Photography” and reissued it several times. That series, which is still in print, comes in a small trim and with only 96 pages. Because of that, and also that Aperture subsequently released the more substantial monograph Wynn Bullock. The Enchanted Landscape, I do not count the “Masters of Photography” book as a major monograph on the same level as the four reviewed in this article. The same can be said of the diminutive Wynn Bullock (2001) monograph in Phaidon’s 55 series.

Barbara was clearly close to Wynn, but in the essays in the two previous books, she refrained from biographical details, which photographer and writer Shevelev does not. Reading that after meeting Edward Weston in 1948, Bullock bought exactly the same 8×10 equipment that Weston was using before starting photographing in Weston’s style, made me feel better about my own imitative impulses. Bullock’s mature images could not be confused with Weston’s! And that he was able to flourish artistically only after his re-marriage to Edna, or that models in his nudes were frequently his daughters underscored the importance of a supportive family in one’s creative pursuits. Barbara was physically uncomfortable posing for the cover photograph Child in Forest, 1951. Yet she would go on to author Wynn Bullock Photographing the Nude: The Beginnings of a Quest of Meaning (1984) with editing by Edna. Edna took up photography a year after Wynn’s passing, resulting in Edna’s Nudes (1995) from Capra Press, the publisher of two of Dave Bohn’s books.

Stark Tree, 1956. Top: Scrimshaw, Morgan & Morgan; Bottom: Aperture (note spread), High/Texas. Click to enlarge

Wynn Bullock. The Enchanted Landscape shares several similarities with the Scrimshaw Press book: an identical trim and a few double-page spreads that make the design more dynamic, a design often used for a vertical format book with many horizontal images. The use of white margins and of Bullock quotes facing photographs (rather than other quotes) feels more classical, while discreet image titles are helpful. Using a less chronological and more visual sequence, true to its subtitle, the book puts more emphasis on the landscape. Out of the book’s 86 photos, 13 did not appear in the two previous books, including Let there be Light, 1954. Besides Child in Forest, 1951, Steichen’s landmark exhibit “The Family of Man” included as its opener Bullock’s beach moonlight photograph that came to be known after its caption in the exhibit, “And God said, let there be light – Genesis 1:3” and was the most popular in the entire show. Curiously, the famous photograph was omitted in the two previous books. It is reproduced here as a spread. Of all the four books, Wynn Bullock. The Enchanted Landscape was the best at featuring the consensus images for which Bullock is best known, “missing” only one.

Wynn Bullock: Revelations (2014)

Co-published by the High Museum of Art and the University of Texas Press, Wynn Bullock: Revelations, the catalog of a traveling exhibit that opened at the Museum in Atlanta did not need to qualify its claims to be “the most comprehensive assessment of Bullock’s career” with “in nearly forty years”. To start with, the publication features more plates (111) and pages (196) than any other, and its 11×11″ square format gives equal presence to vertical and horizontal images. Benefiting from 21st-century technologies, the reproductions are excellent. The book has all the apparatus that one would expect from a formal catalog: a clean presentation with image titles, a detailed illustrated chronology, and the usual lists. In the introduction, curator Abbott tries to shed new insights into the artist’s work through his relationship with science, an idea at the core of Bullock’s latest monograph Relativity: Wynn Bullock and Albert Einstein (2017), a most exclusive volume with platinum prints issued in an edition of 15.

Woman’s Hands, 1956. Top: Scrimshaw, Morgan & Morgan; Bottom: Aperture, High/Texas (note pairing). Click to enlarge

Only three spreads disrupt the conservative one-image-one-page format. It would seem that the consensus among book designers is that Woman and Dog in Forest, 1953 needs to be seen large since that photograph is reproduced as a double spread in all of the books except in Morgan & Morgan – which does not include double spreads. The two other spreads serve to open and close the color light abstractions section. The format avoids interrupting images by the gutter, while a few bleeds with vertical images add a bit of variation. Within that format, the image sequence is enlivened by judicious pairings and groupings, for example photographs that revolve around a portal. The book introduces 40 photographs not seen in the three previous books (60 not seen in the Aperture book), and “misses” only 4. Those photos are mostly experimental work. In images from the 1940s, before his decisive encounter with Edward Weston who taught him the value of straight photography, Bullock relied on sophisticated solarization techniques (for which he would get a patent!) and also tried abstract photographs of light – paying homage to what he thought as a unifying force in the universe. In the early 1960s, he extended those abstract photographs of light to color slides but felt that they could not be reproduced adequately with current technologies. That work was published by the Bullock Estate as Wynn Bullock: Color Light Abstractions (2010) but is included here for the first time in a retrospective monograph, making it indeed the most comprehensive of its kind.

In 2023, I mostly continued last year’s break. I focused on photographing close to where I live but also started to get back to faraway trips.

I shifted to photography near home for many reasons. On the personal side, I wanted to spend more time with family, and also reduce my environmental footprint. There were even more motivations on the artistic side, a coincidence with the end of an era. I liked being able to return to a location time and time again, finding beauty in mundane and overlooked places where nobody photographs. I’ve been thinking about the evolution of the concept of wilderness, shifting from perceiving untouched landscapes as sacred and separate to acknowledging them as integral parts of the human-influenced environment where I live. Besides nearby nature preserves, I paid attention to urban parks ranging from the Coyote Creek Trail where I’ve compiled a substantial body of work to disparate places such as Berkeley’s People’s Park. Besides photographing the home itself, one cannot be much closer to home than in the following photographs. I took the first images while walking out of my backyard, along a creek, and into nearby hills on a beautiful early February morning. The last one from later in the month when the wet winter treated us to rare snow, was captured less than two miles away from home.

A bit further, but still neighboring the Bay Area, I made multiple visits to Ford Ord National Monument in the south during winter and spring. Although mostly viewed by the locals as a recreation area, I found that a closer look revealed a worthy nature preserve with interesting biodiversity where the subtle but diverse landscape included several Central Coast ecosystems. In the north, I traveled to Berryessa-Snow Mountain National Monument, which of all the great parklands included in Our National Monuments is the closest to home. Although my timing for wildflowers was a bit off, I hiked several trails new to me in total solitude.

These days, I am mostly recognized for landscapes in America’s public lands, but I have also traveled and photographed extensively in Asia. I find that continent much cheaper than Europe, more exotic, more friendly, and the jet lag works in my favor. Despite my love and reverence for nature, from time to time, I find a radical break in pace and environment most stimulating. It was good to resume international travel with the family for the first time since 2019 on the occasion of an April trip to Tokyo. The most pleasant discovery was Enoshima Island which despite being only an hour away from Tokyo’s urban core felt like a world away, with an interesting mix of the spiritual and the kitsch, the ancient and the modern, and of nature and man-made.

On October 14, 2023, an annular eclipse moved through the U.S. West, the last of its kind visible from the country until 2044. Due to a mental episode, the trip to Japan with teenagers had turned out way more challenging than we expected, so I was surprised that when I proposed a road trip to watch the eclipse, the kids were excited enough that they did not mind the 1400-mile drive and outdoor living. At the last minute, we chose a location that would work for everybody in Great Basin National Park. Despite difficult conditions, I managed to make photographs and a time-lapse of the eclipse.

For more than five years, I’ve been trying to travel to Alaska in the fall to finish my national park projects, but something always got in the way. First, it was the urgency of the national monuments, then the pandemic, and in 2022 the weather. Although the latter wasn’t that promising in 2023, feeling the call of the wild, my friend Tommy and I decided to give the trip the go. Despite the frequent rain, after a quick impromptu visit to Denali National Park, our outing to Gates of the Arctic National Park via Anaktuvuk Pass was a satisfying wilderness and human experience, and in Wrangell-St Elias National Park, besides hiking a spectacular trail with views and history, I lucked out when I made the elusive night photograph for which I had come.

Fittingly for a year where I have photographed nature locally more than before, the last highlight occurred at Point Reyes National Seashore. Friends from the UC Berkeley’s hiking club came together for a 30th-anniversary reunion. On that last backpacking trip of the year at the edge of the winter rains in mid-December, we went strolling on the beach at night to have a good time, not expecting to see anything. Again, nature gifted wonderment, leading to my first time I photographing bioluminescence in the surf. At the end of a year that had turned rather dark, it was also a reminder that light can be found in unexpected places.

If you have read so far, my sincere thanks for your interest in my work. I wish you and your family a happy new year 2024 full of happiness, health, joy, peace, and wonder.