2025 in the wild - A year of Photographs
A Year in the Wild: My 2025 Photography Journey
Every year in the field shapes me in unexpected ways, but 2025 felt especially transformative. It unfolded as a continuous conversation with the natural world—one spoken in quiet breaths of winter, thunderous hooves on salt flats, glacial winds, river spray, and desert storms. Looking back, I'm filled with gratitude for the places I’ve stood, the wildlife I’ve encountered, and the people who have shared these moments with me. Here’s a look at the adventures that shaped my lens this year.
January — Winter Wildlife in Yellowstone
The year opened with two unforgettable weeks in Yellowstone National Park, a place where silence feels ancient and every breath hangs suspended in the frozen air. Winter is when the park reveals its most intimate scenes, and this season gifted me some of my closest encounters yet.
Bison pushed slowly through the steaming geyser basins, wolves traced faint tracks across distant ridges and elk materialized from curtains of snow. But the highlight was the red foxes. I had multiple encounters with these elusive little critters as they dashed though the snow covered landscape.
These moments set the tone for a year defined by rare access and deep connection.
February — White Horses of Camargue
In February, I traded Yellowstone’s frost for the low land marshes and Mediterranean coastline of Southern France. Photographing the white horses of Camargue never ceases to thrill me, their presence is ancient and cinematic.
My group and I worked through dawn sunrises and surf-splashed sunsets, capturing scenes of horses charging through the sea, manes whipping like banners. Their elegance and strength created imagery that felt almost mythological. The photographs balance equine heritage with a kind of sculptural beauty.
April — Patagonia & the Pumas of Torres del Paine
April brought two weeks of leading a workshop through Argentine and Chilean Patagonia. This region always stretches the senses: turquoise glacial lakes, winds that reshape clouds, and mountains that look carved from some primordial dream.
Guiding a group through this environment made the experience even richer; watching participants connect with the land is one of the greatest joys of my work.
Among the trip’s gifts was an encounter I’ll never forget, a stunning gray puma in Torres del Paine. She emerged from the brush blending in with the surrounding landscape with her coat glowing against the granite backdrop. Photographing her felt like an honor, a moment of pure stillness in a landscape known for its extremes.
April — White Sands & A First Encounter in the Dunes
April also brought me back to White Sands National Park, a place I’ve photographed many times but one that still holds the power to surprise. The gypsum dunes stretched endlessly under shifting light, their curves sculpted by wind and time. I’ve walked these dunes before, often noticing the unmistakable tracks of oryx etched across the sand—evidence of a presence just out of reach.
This trip was different. For the first time, I finally saw the animal itself. Photographing an oryx moving through the white dunes felt surreal, its pale form and sweeping horns echoing the minimalist landscape around it. It was a moment of quiet reward—proof that patience in familiar places can still lead to entirely new stories.
June — Iceland: Landscapes, Horses, and Puffins
July — Grizzly Bears of Katmai
Summer carried me north to Katmai, Alaska, where the Brooks River churns with salmon and the air vibrates with the presence of grizzly bears. It’s a place of raw abundance. The bears spend their days fishing, swimming, and occasionally locking eyes with you from across the water.
Each day brought something new. a sow having a picnic on the beach with her cubs, a massive male chasing salmon directly toward me, and simple moments of bears simply standing in the the lake looking fully content with the abundant life of summer. Katmai left me humbled. It’s a reminder that wild places still exist where animals live entirely on their own terms.
October — Autumn in the San Juan Mountains
When October arrived, the San Juan Mountains of Colorado put on a spectacular show. For a landscape photographer, it was paradise.The hillsides ignited in gold as aspens shimmering in backlit groves.
The fall colors were some of the best I’ve seen in years. From early-morning glow in Telluride to dramatic storm light over Ouray and Ridgway, the San Juans delivered an ever-changing palette. It was a season of big vistas and incredible details and intimate scenes that spoke to the artistry of autumn.
November — Stormlight & Stillness in Death Valley
The year concluded in one of the most unexpected and surreal versions of Death Valley I’ve ever seen. November brought a record-breaking rainfall of 1.76 inches, surpassing a nearly century-old record. This transformed the landscape into something few people ever experience.
Cottonball Marsh became a shimmering lake. Storm clouds danced across the valley, bending light into fantastical shapes. Water pooled in places typically defined by heat and desolation. These conditions created images that felt both familiar and newly imagined, pushing my creativity in refreshing ways.
Despite road closures and weather challenges, the experience was extraordinary. It reminded me that nature is always rewriting its own script and all we can do is show up and be ready to listen.
Looking Ahead
As I reflect on this year, I’m deeply thankful for everyone who has followed along, collectors, workshop participants, friends, and fellow lovers of wild places. Your support makes these journeys possible, and I can’t wait to share what’s coming next.
Here’s to another year of exploration, inspiration, and unforgettable moments behind the lens.