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Hi Reader,
This has been one of the more challenging months we’ve had in a while, and in its own way, one of the more meaningful.
The biggest news at home has been Jennifer’s horse. We discovered a tumor in his sinus that required emergency surgery, and in those first days, we weren’t sure he would make it through. Thankfully, the surgery went far better than we feared. The weeks since have been filled with frequent care, a few scares, and slow but steady progress. He’s now doing very well, and we’re hopeful for a full recovery, and for Jennifer to be back in the saddle before long.
On top of that, Jennifer’s surgery is now scheduled for August, so we’re preparing for a quieter stretch of summer than usual and trying, as always, to see the slower pace as its own kind of gift.
Thank you to everyone who has sent kind and supportive messages during this difficult stretch. We’re deeply grateful for this community and the care you’ve shown us.
In the middle of all that, we did get one stretch of pure restoration: a brief trip to Utah in May to lead our first Creative Retreat near Boulder Mountain. It was everything we hoped it would be, and more. Sharing one of our favorite places with the group was deeply rewarding, and it was wonderful to watch creative breakthroughs unfold throughout the week. More on that below.
Behind the scenes, I’ve also been pouring myself into work I’m genuinely excited about: building new critique features for Nature Photographers Network to make it an even stronger place to grow, and laying the groundwork for the next chapter of the Rethink Toolkit. More on both soon.
In this issue: a reflection on why we’re drawn to what we photograph, a look back at the Boulder Mountain retreat with images and words from the group, what’s still open on our 2026-2028 calendar, and a first whisper about something we’ve been building in Moab.
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The Quiet Conversation
There’s a conversation that happens before a photograph is made, and much of it happens in silence. It’s the back-and-forth between you and the scene: what draws your eye, what you choose to leave out, and what you’re responding to beneath the obvious subject.
The longer you stay with it, the more the landscape becomes something more than scenery. It begins to reflect your attention, your questions, and the quiet pull of what matters to you.
We spent the Boulder retreat practicing exactly this: letting the questions come before the camera. What am I drawn to here? Why this, and not the grand view behind me? The answers are different for every photographer, which is precisely the point.
If this resonates, my article The Quiet Conversation in Issue 12 of Nature Vision Magazine explores this idea more deeply, and looks at how our inner responses shape the photographs we choose to make.
Read Issue 12 →
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Latest in Nature Photography |
Three pieces worth your time this month, all circling the same question from different directions:
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by Guy Tal
Guy's essays always challenge me, and this one hit especially close to home. He examines how easily we mute our own voice to meet expectations, whether an audience's, an algorithm's, or our own internalized ones. After a week at the retreat focused on what each of us is genuinely drawn to, his reminder that art begins where suppression ends felt like the perfect companion piece.
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by Michael Frye
I related to this one immediately. Michael arrives in the Smokies carrying decades of iconic images by Cramer, Burkett, Neill, and Simmons in his head, then has to work out how to photograph the place as himself. I've felt that same weight in places like Death Valley and Yellowstone, and I appreciated how practical and generous his approach is to seeing past the photographs you've already seen.
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by David duChemin
David asks a question I think every photographer wrestles with at some point: do our photographs matter? He starts with a provocation, that our images probably won't change the world, and lands somewhere unexpectedly hopeful. After the month we've had, his conclusion resonated with me more than usual: the making itself is the point.
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Our first morning greeted us with cold and wind, the kind that tests your commitment. But the desert soon relented, and the rest of the week settled into something rare: an unhurried rhythm.
Few places hold so much variety in such a small area. We wandered from the aspen forests of Boulder Mountain to the red rock canyons of the Escalante, stood over the plunge of Hell’s Backbone gorge, and lingered along quiet river scenes threading through it all. Evenings brought long dinners at Hell’s Backbone Grill and conversations that outlasted the food.
The moment that stayed with me most, though, was quieter: an afternoon at the bird sanctuary, where we set the cameras down and simply observed. Everyone noticed something new about the landscape, and about themselves. Even after all these years, I was surprised by what I found myself drawn to.
That’s what made this retreat special. It wasn’t only the conditions, though we had our share of gifts. It was watching each photographer’s way of seeing sharpen over the week. Nowhere is that clearer than in the examples of our participants’ work below.
In Tamar's words, from her review titled "A wonderful way to connect yourself with your photography":
"The focus on our vision, what we are drawn to and trying to understand why helped me move forward with my creative journey. There are many tools I got in this retreat, ways of noticing, of seeing, of connecting with my emotions and my story. I know it will have a lasting effect on my approach to photography and how I can understand myself better through my photography. This retreat is great for anyone who wants to dig deeper into themselves and create images that truly reflect themselves."
— Tamar Aharony, Boulder Mountain Creative Retreat
Ellen's trio is a study in range: molten gold reflections, the swirling geometry of carved stone, and a cottonwood holding its own against a canyon wall. Three subjects, one unmistakable eye.
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If you are lucky enough to be able to get a spot in one of their workshops you will be changed by it. David and Jennifer are more than just skilled photographers, they create an experience that is intimate, revelatory, and inspirational. I am grateful to have been on Desert Night Sky workshop and Utah Escalante, and planning on attending another!!
— Nicole Amundsen Reviews like Nicole's mean the world to us, thank you. Since opening the 2027 and 2028 schedule in April, several workshops have sold out and most of the rest are down to their final spaces. Here's what still has space available.
Workshops with Space Available
2027
2028
Join the Waitlist
These workshops are sold out, but spots occasionally open up:
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Coming Soon: Moab Symposium |
Something is taking shape in the red rock! The Moab Photography Symposium will gather photographers around the ideas at the heart of this issue: creative vision, finding your voice, and the work of seeing for yourself.
We’ll be announcing the full details very soon, and we’d love for you to be among the first to know when registration opens.
Join the early-notification list →
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