Moved by the Wind

I love the process of making photographs: Turning the dials for setting shutter speed and aperture, framing the subject, experimenting with different lenses. The haptic feedback of turning the focus ring and observing how nature is transformed in front of your eyes: From soft and vague shapes, to well-lit and pin sharp flower petals, to out of focus trees at the dark forest edge. It brings joy to press the shutter, so much, in fact, that I often end up with way too many pictures of the same scene.

Best conditions for taking photographs are often the blue and golden hour, foggy forest scenes, or dramatic skies. Even though those nature spectacles are marvelous to experience and photograph, I am more satisfied when I manage to take appealing pictures without gorgeous light. At least appealing to myself, as I am aware that this style of photography is not everyone’s cup of tea.

On this particular day, wind and sun were strong. I went out during high noon expecting not too much, but I ended up with one of my favorites pictures of the whole trip so far: Grasses and flowers, moved by the wind. Taken in bright sunlight on a barren field. Simple shapes and patterns. Between abstract and concrete. A subject and a feeling. A sense of the scene.

In the beginning I wanted to photograph what I saw. Now, I like to believe that I photograph what I feel. How nature makes me feel at that point in time at that location. Of course, I still photograph what I see, but by now my repertoire of techniques has grown enough that I may come closer to the essence of the observed scene. Or: to one essence of the observed scene, allowing to take vastly different pictures of the same subject by using different techniques. At least sometimes, as this does not happen too often. But the best moments are when it does.