Rules of Photography

I’ve given myself an overwhelming task, photographing this whole area, so I’ve established a few rules to manage it.

The first: I photograph twelve times a season. Twelve sessions each in winter, spring, summer, and fall. I usually come away with about five good photographs per season, and I’ve learned not to worry about results while I’m out there. I put myself in the landscape and let instinct take over. It’s a mindset I’ve adapted from the Bhagavad Gita: “We have only the right to our labor, not the fruits of our labor. All the warrior can give is his life; the outcome is out of his hands.”

The second: when fog is present, I take photos. Smoke in the air? Photos. Fog obscures the background, turning an otherwise messy scene into something clean and simple. Smoke works well too, especially in black and white. And unlike fog, which usually burns off by midmorning, smoke can linger all day, even under a relentless sun. My percentage of winners rises noticeably in either condition.

The third: I return to the same place, again and again. When I find a composition with potential, I keep going back until I feel I’ve gotten the best out of it. I visit in the morning, at midday, in the evening, across different seasons. I’ve returned to some places twenty times, hoping each time to make a better photograph.

For years I’ve been working one subject in particular: the transition between the scrubby foothills and the higher alpine country, where pearly fog softens the landscape. 

This large juniper on the east bank of the Payette River is my marker. When I reach it, I take the next highway turnout, turn around, and point my camera back at the scene.