Thus Far: Reflecting on 2024
Now that the new year is here, and 2025 has begun, I am reminded of years past and can reflect on things that have changed, and things that haven’t. Although it is just an arbitrary date (and an arbitrary number), when the New Year rolls around, everyone begins to share their “top 9 photos” of the year, and 2024 has been no different. Usually this has caused me to feel a mixture of anxious excitement; although it is exciting to pick out my favorite images, selecting just nine photos to sum up 365 days is daunting. Over the past several years, each time has become more and more difficult to distill down to just several images. This is mostly due to the fact that I am getting better at photography (not much better lol), but also over time I have become more and more critical of my work. This year though, as December wound down, I didn’t feel that anxiousness come welling up again. In fact I had completely forgotten about the “Top 9 of the year” trend altogether. This is the first year that the FOMO (the Fear Of Missing Out) seems to have passed me by. As I thought about why that is, I decided that I would much rather break it down in this format instead of just an Instagram post. I think doing a thorough annual reflection like this will not only be more interesting, but will also be far more effective in providing myself with some real and tangible points of reference. So without further ado, this is a reflection of my favorite work from 2024, and a deeper look into why they are so meaningful.
Before I continue, I’d like to preface this with the fact that I still have many images from 2024 that I have yet to process, some of which would’ve most definitely made this list for one reason or another. For either lack of time, or quite frankly lack of caring, I just couldn’t keep up with my backlog this year. For example I’m positive that some from my Arizona trip in October would definitely make the list, but I think I’ll just have to release those as a collection at a later date. And while I had an amazing trip and got some images I’m really excited about, post-processing just wasn’t a priority this year. Anyway…
“A Surprise Squall” - Fairview, P.A.
I suppose I’ll go through these in chronological order, so first we have this image from winter, sometime early in 2024. What made this image so special is not only the conditions, but the fact that I literally took this at work. No joke, I took this image right behind my office. I check live conditions on days that I know we are expecting interesting weather. I periodically peek out of the back door of the office and see how things are looking just in case I want to use my lunch break taking photos. Well this particular day we were expecting snow, but when I opened up the back door I was not expecting to see a flurry of thick snow and fog! Separated nicely from the background, the form of this tree that I look at often instantly stood out. I threw on my jacket, walked a few steps to my car, grabbed my 70-200, spun around, and fired off a few shots. No hiking, no heavy winter clothes, no boots, no tripod, just a quick snap from behind the office. I quickly reviewed the LCD to check for reasonable sharpness (given the distortion from the conditions) and called it good. I took one of my favorite photos and was back to my desk faster than it would’ve taken for a bathroom break…
You will see throughout this blog that the theme of “shooting close to home” comes up a lot. This was one of the many images this past year that really taught me the value of not overestimating the potential of your everyday surroundings. To not overlook the extraordinary in the seemingly ordinary.
“A Gathering” - Presque Isle State Park
Winter wasn’t much of a “winter” this time around. Aside from a few decent snowstorms, the temps were pretty mild and the snow never really stuck around long. This left us with a pretty extended “stick season”, and without some nice atmosphere like fog, it’s pretty tough to make a compelling image. Luckily for me we did get a decent number of foggy days.
This image was taken during one of those days, and instead of visiting the usual haunts, I decided to challenge myself and see what the lakeshore had to offer. With the fog creating some nice separation, punching in with my 70-200 really made compositions stand out. This image was powerful because it made me realize that I can, in fact, make nice woodland compositions on the beach. Although the sand is generally a bit messy, I don’t mind it because it tells a story and is true to the location. The sand on the shores of Lake Erie is not fine, it’s coarse and full of rocks and sticks; but it is still far less chaotic than the forest floor, and I can’t complain about that.
“A Beacon in the Fog” - Presque Isle State Park
Probably my favorite local spot, I return to this lighthouse often to capture it in a variety of conditions and seasons. I have a photo of it in just about every condition that I really like except fog - that was until I captured this. These dead trees come and go throughout the seasons and the years. As the shores wash away and erode, the roots eventually give way. The waves, wind, and ice push them around until they eventually wash up on the shore, root balls intact. I love making different compositions with these because it’s a challenging and fun exercise, and as they decay and are moved around, new opportunities arise from time to time.
I worked this particular composition many times late last summer and fall but never really had the conditions to compliment it. So when we had some heavy fog I knew just where to go. Now this light only turns on at sunset, pulsing a red light until sunrise. So since this was “blue hour” I preferred a cooler edit to the image to add a bit more mood. Definitely one of my favorites.
“Lucid Dreams” - Presque Isle State Park
Another favorite local spot of mine just around the bend from the previous image. I love this area because there are so many different compositions to be found with these boat houses. Also, I just think the boathouses are neat. Without even a breath of wind, and some beautiful fog lit up by the sun, I tried for a few minutes to fine-tune this composition and to include the “jetty” and boat. While some argue against including man and man-made things into nature photos, I think that doing so can tell a better story. Nature isn’t perfect, and neither is man. And as much as landscape and nature photographers try to avoid or even deny it, man is not only part of nature, but we are nature. To act like we aren’t is just pretentious in my personal opinion.
As late winter rolled into early spring, we were yet again blessed with multiple spells of fog. It is honestly pretty rare to have it here, especially this thick, but when it does I feel that I need to make the most of it while I can. Generally it doesn’t stick around much when we do get it, but this day we had a drastic temperature flip, and since the lake was still cold from winter, it created localized fog on the shoreline. Lit up by the midday sun, it was some of the most heavenly conditions I’ve ever witnessed. And not only that, it stuck around for hours…
I stuck to the beach and walked along the water several steps at a time, stopping methodically to scan the treeline until something jumped out at me. After hours of shooting, and several portfolio worthy images later, my brain was fried and I couldn’t see compelling compositions anymore. Eventually the forest and treeline became just that; a single dimension of green and brown and leaves and bark and sand. I may have been creatively exhausted, but I was spiritually energized. It was one of those photography sessions that just reminds you why you do it. Why you put in thousands of dollars and hundreds of hours and hundreds of miles. One of those days where you come out of a fugue state, hours later, and for a moment you forget where you are, where you were, what time or day it is. When you lose touch with reality and you cross into the realm of pure uninterrupted flow.
Getting epic conditions is one thing, but being able to perform when they arise is another. Although I am usually frantic when fog rolls in, this time I was actually very calm and focused. Not worrying about “if” I will get anything good or worrying about taking full advantage of the situation; just simply present. Maybe it was the meditative whooshing of the waves lapping up behind me, or maybe the hypnotizing flutter of the shimmering cottonwood leaves. Whatever it was, it felt like a moment made just for me. A gift from the Universe, or Mother Nature, or God, hand-crafted and bestowed upon me and no one else. Like a secret, unexpected gift from your parents. When it’s not even Christmas or your birthday, but they give it to you anyways. As you look up from the shopping bag, dad winks with a smirk and mom stresses that you do not tell your brothers about it. And the whole afternoon you wonder what you did to deserve it, to be so lucky. In a state of cautious disbelief, but also filled with a sense of overwhelming gratitude. I know it was just happenstance; a freak shift in the winds, but at the time it felt like so much more. Disconnected from myself - completely connected to nature.
One thing I have been instituting into my process a lot more this year is the idea of series and collections. While these images can stand alone, I am perfectly fine with them sharing the same name.
Anyway, these were both taken minutes apart and several yards from each other this past spring. NW Pennsylvania is mostly flat or subtle rolling hills until you eventually meet Lake Erie. Because of this, the area is filled mainly with farmland, forests, or marshy wetlands and swamps. This local park is mainly wetlands that I have traditionally passed by on my way to the lake and beaches. This foggy day I challenged myself to take some more time with the marshes and try to make some compelling images.
And so I slunk down into the swamp, feeling almost like Frodo in the Dead Marshes, unsure of what lurked below the surface. The stink rose from the sucking mud as I tried to find my footing - the sawgrass cut at my hands. I wiped cobwebs from my mouth and eyes and hair as I tried to pull out the legs of my tripod and sink them into the gooey muck below. Some nearby geese stared, not out of fear, but I feel more so out of confusion. “What is this ape doing in the swamp?” I could hear them think as I dialed my settings. But much to my surprise after a few minutes I managed to make an image I was impressed with; you know the ones that even take you by surprise? The photos that make you think “Damn, I didn’t think I could pull anything off!” And with that little boost of confidence, I proceeded to make a few more.
And while they probably wouldn’t win any awards, I am incredibly happy with them and think that they capture the feeling of this place perfectly. These wetlands are extremely cluttered and chaotic, so finding order amongst them was not only a challenge, but also very rewarding.
“Black Hole Sun” - Erie, P.A.
In April of last year there was a total solar eclipse that passed over much of the Midwest and Northeastern United States. Luckily enough, Erie happened to be dead center in the path of totality. I had never photographed the sun directly, nor had I photographed, or even witnessed an eclipse prior. But I have photographed the moon plenty of times and other astro events, so I wasn’t too concerned with the technicalities.
After a little research, I rented a Canon RF 100-500, and bought some solar film to create a filter for my camera. To make the solar filter to go over my lens, I cut up the nearest box that happened to be nearby, which happened to be a Yuengling beer box (my fellow Pennsylvanians will understand). Yes, I know it’s badass. No, Yuengling didn’t sponsor me…
When the day came the cloud cover was pretty variable - shifting from patchy to completely covered hour to hour. As the partial phases began, I would get patches of clear sky between the clouds which was enough for some solid photos. Everyone adorned their eclipse glasses and my camera adorned the badass Yuengling solar filter. During this time I kinda got familiar with how to photograph the big event, dialing in exposure settings as best as I could. Between shots I’d sip a beer and eat some lunch with my wife and her family - we had an eclipse cookout. It was fun and exciting, but we were all crossing our fingers for the clouds to clear out by the time the total eclipse arrived…
Eventually the big moment was coming and as everyone removed their glasses, and I my solar filter. As we looked up, although there was a very thin layer of high clouds, it was thin enough to see the total eclipse perfectly. As its shadow moved over us and the temperature instantly dropped, it’s safe to say that all of our expectations were surpassed. Almost unanimously we all expressed our amazement. And I’m not trying to exaggerate it; it truly was incredible. But the total phase was only going to last a few minutes so I acted fast while also trying to take in the moment.
With an overwhelming sense of excitement and relief, I shouted out “I got it! I got the shot!!” In fact I got quite a few, but I knew at the time that I had at least captured one sharp photo.
Shortly after I was already seeing everyone posting their eclipse photos. Most of which were from the south and midwest. Many of them also had nice clear skies, where we, and many others, had cloud coverage. At first I was a bit jealous, but once I processed the images, I was actually glad we had some clouds. I think that while a clean eclipse ring photo is great, the clouds actually created some really unique images and compositions. Overall, I am more than happy with what I captured that afternoon, but more importantly I am glad that I got to witness it with some of those closest to me. Little did we know it was the first of several astrological events to come.
“The Northern Dawn” - Erie, P.A.
About a month later, we were blessed with yet another incredible event. Last year was a remarkable year for solar activity, and in May it resulted in much of the United States, and the world, getting an unprecedented chance at seeing the Aurora Borealis.
I had seen posts and news articles warning of the possible light show, so I kept my schedule open, and my eyes on the weather. Eventually the night came where it was supposed to happen. Since we had to wait till after dark, my wife and I met up with my brother and some friends at a local tavern near Lake Erie. I have the blessing of living minutes away from the lake, so I figured if it happens, then I’d be in a great place to run down to the lake and see them.
As the evening went on, the bar was buzzing with the mentions of the Aurora. One of the regulars was even periodically popping out of the back door to check the sky for us all; occasionally peeking back in shaking his head saying “Nah. Still cloudy.” Eventually the news broke and we could in fact see the Northern Lights. Everyone, including us, closed out our tab and drove the 30 seconds down to the lake. Even the bartenders closed shop early to join us.
While the beach was packed with spectators, there was plenty of room for everyone. As we found a spot to sit in the sand, we got comfortable with our blankets and waited for our eyes to adjust. While it wasn’t the brightest, we all could see the yellowish-green trails of light strobing and swirling on the horizon and the sky above. I already had my camera on the tripod and was firing away some long exposures. It blew my mind that we were seeing the friggen Northern Lights in Northwest Pennsylvania… I didn’t bother trying to get “too creative” with my compositions as there was just so many other people, but also because I was just having such a good time watching and laughing with good company.
For the past few years, on or around my birthday in late June, I have been treating myself to a solo photo-trip. When alone, I can completely focus and immerse myself in the landscape. It also gives me some physical space and time to take stock of things and gain some perspective. Even if the trips don’t yield any amazing images, I have found them to be very valuable and relaxing.
This time around I went back to a place I have gone before, the Dolly Sod Wilderness in West Virginia. A little over four hours away from me, this area of the Allegheny mountain range is home to some very unique topography - plateaus covered in sandstone boulders, wild blueberry and huckleberry bushes, and stands of flagged red spruce. Environments such as this are really only found in more northern latitudes such as Maine and Canada, making this a very unique place. It’s a place that speaks to me on a level that is hard to explain. It seems to have a wild soul about it that grabs ahold of me each time I visit.
I won’t go into much more detail about the area or the trip, as I have already covered this trip extensively in another blog. What I will say is that from a photographic standpoint, these are some of my favorite photos from last year because of the pure chaos of the area. It’s a maze of blueberries and boulders, and making compelling compositions can be very challenging. With an overwhelming amount of subjects, one can easily get carried away and come away with plenty of mediocrity.
I happened to luck out with the weather - getting a mixture of hazy and partially cloudy days. I was actually hoping for some rain to get some foggy atmosphere, but apparently fog is rare up there because of the legendary winds. Anyway, this was a great test of my compositional skills and it was a rewarding trip that definitely resulted in some portfolio images and some personal growth.
“Rising Dawn” - Presque Isle State Park
In mid-summer, the rising sunrise shifts to the north, and instead of rising over the land, it appears to rise over the lake. As many know, this lighthouse in Presque Isle State Park is probably my favorite local haunt. It’s kind of where my photography journey all began, and whenever I need a reset, I come back to this spot and watch the sunrise. I have lost count of the number, but every one feels like the first time all over again. It’s a place where I can always come back to find my center. A beacon that helps me find my way back when I feel lost. A sacred place where I can usually find myself alone, and watch the world wake up.
The title of this series is a result of allowing myself to be bored. All summer here on Lake Erie, massive thunderstorms billow across the lake from Canada collecting moisture as they approach the United States. This extra moisture produces some interesting lake-effect weather such as massive shelf clouds and even water spouts in the fall, and every year I do my damnedest to capture it.
Even though I went out several times this summer during promising forecasts, I really didn’t manage to capture any solid stormfronts or even lightning. But storm chasing can be very dull work at times. Once I show up to the lake, all I can really do is wait; constantly refresh the weather apps, and wait.
This year I decided that while I wait, why not try and make something? Usually I’m chasing the light without much time to sit and ponder, but storm chasing certainly reminded me of the value of patience and allowing myself to just do… nothing. This collection of water images were made in the idle moments while waiting for storms. They reflect the color in the sky and in the clouds but all at different times and days. A study of self reflection, and literal “reflection”, that I am very pleased with. While watching these waves reflect the colors and light above, I seemed to be put into a trance. A calming and meditative state of mind. A state where I was able to flow freely from thought to thought: a “Liquid State of Mind.”
“Outstanding” - Erie, P.A.
This image was yet another reminder not to overlook the local, and seemingly “boring” locations. This is just a local municipal park with paths through some fields, the woods, and down to a creek. It’s rather unspectacular, but it has never claimed to be anything more. Just a small park where locals can go to relax, exercise, and do a little birdwatching. A local trail system that on any given day is full of parents and kids, folks walking dogs, and the occasional photographer. I spent a lot of time here this late summer and fall exploring it deeper, trying to uncover its understated beauty.
One extremely humid morning, the prairie released its moisture into the chilly morning air before the sun rose. I stayed in the field, looking for compositions to bounce around to once the sun eventually came up over the trees, because I knew when it did, that the light would put on quite a show. And put on a show it did.
I have several images from this morning that really impressed me. Not that they are “so amazing” that I am impressed by my “incredible photography”, but impressive because once again, it reminded me not to overlook the understated. To not overestimate the seemingly unremarkable.
“The Root of it All” - Erie, P.A.
This is one of the unreleased images on this list, and it is also just another image from a humble local park. After the snowmelt in the spring, and the raging storms in the summer, the local creeks and gorges begin to dry up and the water levels drop. When this time of year comes around, I adorn my high water boots, and embark on “creek walks.” Sure anyone can walk through the woods, but walking in the creek grants you a different perspective, and it opens up new photographic opportunities. You can get a direct look at the exposed creek beds full of different rocks and textures, and you can see the towering gorge walls from a unique point of view. It happens to be one of my favorite activities.
But all that activity from the spring and summer inevitably washes away as the banks of the creek, and loosens the soil under the nearby trees. Eventually one good storm will flood the creeks and rip the vulnerable trees off the shore. While this is a very common site, I had never seen a “root ball” (for lack of a better term) like this before. Usually a tree will fall while a piece of the earth remains in its exposed root system, but I can’t remember seeing one that consisted of several trees. So when I stumbled on this one, I knew I had to try and make something unique.
Although it was on its side, I framed this composition as if it were right-side-up, flipping its orientation in post. I also purposely included some of the background behind the root system to show that everything may not be as simple as it seems. Also I wanted to show some of the smaller plants that are growing in a different orientation than the trees. I think that it really created a cool, and somewhat “mind-bending” result that might slip past the average viewer. But for the keen-eyed, it may make them stop and think, questioning if their eyes are deceiving them.
“When Extraordinary Becomes Ordinary” - Fairview, P.A.
This is one of those times that catches you completely off guard. Where just by chance you happen to end up capturing something incredible.
We thought that the Aurora in May was going to be the end of it: a fluke that we were just lucky enough to witness. Well in October we got another chance. It was a night like any other - the wife was about to lay down for bed, I was about to put on one of “my shows”, and out of reflex (I hate to admit) I opened up my Facebook app to clear a notification. As the app opened and the feed loaded, I saw some photos from central P.A. with the caption “THE LIGHTS ARE BACK IN PA!!!”
My heart skipped a beat as I was totally unprepared, and I immediately looked to see if anyone else was confirming it. And much to my surprise, the lights were in fact back. As my wife was leaving the room I said “I’m going out tonight. The Northern Lights are back?!” And like that I was dressed and driving towards the lake. I took some backroads in the hope of keeping away from streetlights, and as I crested a hill that overlooked a large field, I could see the glow in the sky and immediately ditched my plans for the lake.
On the side of the road, in a field I actually used to frequent on walks years ago, I sat and captured the lights as they danced across the sky. While at first they were mainly yellowish-green again, they were still much brighter than the show in May. After about an hour it was around 12:45. I was getting cold, a bit tired, and the initial rush had long worn off by this point. The lights varied in brightness but not so much in color. I had my fill and told myself the classic line “Just 10 more minutes, then I’m out.”
Sure enough, 15 minutes later I decided to pack it up. After I packed my gear away I came out of the car to grab my tripod, I glanced up to the sky to see brilliant pillars of red jutting into the night sky. After the initial shock wore off, I scrambled like a mad man to get everything back out and set up again. For about 15 minutes the lightshow exploded, ranging in brightness and colors of red and magenta. I could almost feel the energy in the air around me. The most striking natural display I think I’ve ever seen.
Eventually the lights dimmed to just a faint glow on the horizon, the show was over. I packed up for good this time and drove back home. I stayed up until about 4:30 in the morning processing some of the best images from the night because I was so excited to share them with my wife and family and coworkers. Speaking of coworkers, the next morning in the office came fast… It was quite a rough day, but at least it was friday. I have come to realize that if you want to experience amazing things in this life, that you are going to have to make sacrifices. You are going to have to do things that most wouldn’t. You’re going to have to do things that you won’t want to do either. Things like neglecting a night of sleep to see the Northern Lights in a place where they are almost never seen.
Experts suggest that sleep deprivation can shorten your life, but hey, I’ll sleep when I’m dead, right? I’ll gladly shave off some years down the road in order to live some of my best years now.
I have never really had the chance to photograph natural oils here in Pennsylvania. I see a ton of leaf oil images from out west, and I know that they exist here too, but I just haven’t been lucky enough to find some worth photographing. That is until this fall.
I have some good photo friends in Western New York, Jon and Mike (check out their work, you won’t be disappointed) who also share the same passion for their local landscapes. After teasing the idea multiple times, we all finally met up for a morning of photography. I drove up a little over an hour to meet them on their turf. I am decently familiar with WNY, but there’s definitely so much I haven’t explored yet.
When I joined them they had been at the location for a bit already, poking around and getting some awesome shots. As this was my first time meeting them in person, we exchanged pleasantries and chatted for a few minutes before getting to work.
While the area we were in was amazing and grand, the highlight of the morning was a cluster of still water back in a marshy area that was full of leaves and undisturbed oils. We shot until we all had to get going and called it a day. I think I can speak for all of us by saying that we all got some beautiful portfolio pieces that morning.
While I definitely make my best work when I’m alone and truly able to focus, I absolutely love meeting up with other photographers, shooting the shit, having some laughs, and sharing experiences. While making beautiful photos is of course important, for me, being a part of a community of other like-minded artists is also another reason why I pursue this craft. After all, what’s life without sharing its experiences with others?
Thanks again Jon for showing us around your stomping grounds. (and I still owe you a shot lol)
- Until next time, cheers gents.
So there you have it - another year in the books. If you have read this far, I’d like to say thank you for making it through this “trial run” of sorts. I’d like to keep doing these “annual reflections” and I’m sure over time the process will refine itself. I think it’s a far more efficient way of processing the past year and experiences. Plus, a website is a far better place to share your thoughts and photography. Instagram is practically useless, so I’d rather put my energy into something like this. I don’t know, we’ll see how it goes…
As for this year, I’ve already made some work that I’m very proud of, and it’s only January. I hope to take the insights and lessons I’ve learned from this past year and apply them going forward into the rest of 2025. I hope that you too take some time to reflect a little deeper on your own journey. Maybe you can glean something useful from it that someone else would benefit from hearing?
Anyways, maybe I’ll see you around next year?
(and maybe the next one will actually be in time haha…)
- Cheers
