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 am often quite bored during long flights and look for anything to do within the confined cabin space. Sometimes the cloud levels are just right while the sun is lower for better light, and I take the time to set up a tripod and camera on the flight. Tight spots like this are fantastic for my Trekker tripod. It is so versatile and accommodating to the oddest of places I wish to place a camera. Getting a few curious looks from nearby passengers, I carefully scout for a nice grouping of clouds to occupy my time. I usually try to avoid any view of the plane or wing, but this time it was unavoidable in my row. As it turns out, I really liked how the wing establishes where the photo was taken and prefer it over many shots from other flights.

Southern Arizona wilderness

graduated sunset colours behind a silhouette of winter trees

The Palace of Fine Arts in San Francisco is a fantastic setting for many great images. I saw these two swans swimming about and set up on the nearby shoreline. As with most animals, you really must do a lot of waiting for the right moment (unless you are lucky enough to come across one that responds to verbal instruction). There were many fair shots, but each time something was not quite right, so I very patiently waited, slowly panning the camera to track their movement and making adjustments along the way. In as little as a half hour, there was finally a moment when they both stopped eating seaweed and faced each other just long enough for me to complete my work.

I particularly liked the lines in this image; the way trees and shrubbery were growing up the sides matched the angle of the peaks. The mountain walls were exceptionally steep (nearly vertical) which made it easier to capture the grassland foreground and keep the mountain peaks crisp and close. The sun was still early and somewhat low which pronounced the roughness and magnitude of this shear wall of rock.

layers and layers of spire-shaped mountains in ZhangJiaJie

This is a close-up of Dichrolam Film - an exotic material that won awards for being one of the most innovative materials in the world. It's paper thin and made up of several hundred layers of super-thin plastics that diffract and filter light into different colours depending on the viewing angle.