It was late spring in the Utah desert and I got caught in a light rain shower. It was hot, so the rain felt nice, but I still didn't want to get soaked and be encumbered with wet clothes. I stooped under a tree about the height of a house (tall for the region) and let it shelter me from most of the rain. In about 30 minutes, it turned to a fine mist and I continued up the mountain. Soon the sun started to peek out and turned my surroundings to a steamy sauna. Whenever the sun comes out after a rain, I immediately look for the possibility of a rainbow. Rainbows are so beautiful and last only a moment, that I do everything possible to capture one onto film. Sure enough, one started to emerge right in front of me, but was mostly obscured by the ground, so I started to run up the hill for a better view. The mountainside was steep and seemed to never end. Each time I thought I could see it leveling off, by the time I got there, it continued upward. I was exhausted and time was quickly counting down. I managed to make my way to a partial overlook and captured ¾ of the arch of colour before it faded away.

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.

giant variegated Agave plant in Arizona desert

almost passing for an aerial photo over some trees, ocean, and a smoldering volcano, this world was actually discovered on the belly of a small fly - more specifically a tiny Blue-green Long-legged fly (Condylostylus). the micro-hairs along the contours of it's abdomen now look like a forest of trees covering the hills of a tropical island. the way the light reflects of the fly's metallic-like surface, gave us the ocean and rainforest colour palette. and the volcano is actually a hair pore with the hair shaft going out of focus toward the camera, giving the appearance of rising column of smoke. the width of this shot covers 0.0126 inches which is the thickness of a playing card.

Sunrise on the high plateau of Colorado.

For several kilometers in the GuiLin area, there exist many of these uniquely shaped mountains. They are a pleasure to travel through and are ever-changing as the sun passes over. The locals have a saying concerning their beautiful surroundings; "I'd rather be a GuiLin man [person] than a supernatural being".

when large brown bears come out out their winter slumber, they're hungry and are looking for the easiest food available. bears favor easy food that does not require a chase, battle, or conflict, and salmon meets those requirements quite well (also good news for me behind the camera). it is common to see these bears standing in a stream waiting for their meal to attempt to swim by. this one perched himself atop a small falls where the salmon have to jump to beat the down-rushing current.