Bamboo gate in Japanese garden

hiking through Waimea canyon on Kauai

evening sun peeking through the sides of a Banyan tree forest immersed in a picturesque swampland

I was set up for this whitewater section of rapids and took several shots, freezing the splashes of water at different moments in time. It was an extremely wet area from all the mist, and the lens had to be wiped down between each shot. Then I continued my hike up stream, shooting along the way. At the base of the falls, it was time to change film. For an unknown reason, my camera indicated that I had rewound the film completely, but a good portion was actually still vulnerable. When I opened up the back, boy was I surprised to have just exposed my work to daylight. Having no idea which part I had just ruined, I retraced my steps and began re-shooting each scene with a different camera back in hopes to not repeat the malfunction. While in wooded areas, since many scenes are shaded by neighboring trees, I commonly will first hike unencumbered with gear to calculate the ideal time of day for that particular scene. Thankfully, my window of light for this area was long enough to obtain a second set of exposures.

I'm precariously hanging over a sheer cliff to capture a straight-down perspective of the ocean waters below. With my assistant faithfully grasping my belt and a small nearby tree, i was able to get the camera gear over the edge enough to watch for the best mixture of rock and swirling waves.

This is called "get the shot and run for cover". I'm wading waist-deep to get the desired camera angles and when i saw this swell raising more and more, i knew i would be grabbing the camera and heading for more shallow water before i get clobbered.

On my way back to the studio, after a routine walk with the camera, I stopped to rest a moment halfway up a steep hill. It was early autumn and the leaves had begun their colour cycle. Like most of us, sometimes I forget to look up to see what's directly above. In my moment of fatigue (too much gear), I arched my back to stretch and WOW! I was standing right under a perfect shot. A lower branch spread across my view with bright red leaves and a little higher up was a maple that turned yellow and just past that, a couple different greens from the oaks. Topped off with patches of deep blue sky, it was truly a colourful moment.

this is a closeup shot of the feathery scales on a Monarch butterfly wing. each scale has a length of around 1/220 of an inch, so the height of this entire shot would be equivalent to the thickness of 3 sheets of paper. this particular butterfly died naturally near our studio, so we took the opportunity to explore what it had to offer.