Woodland photography is something I have always found difficult. I am primarily a seascape photographer, and while I photograph other types of landscapes, the coast is where I feel most comfortable. When I arrive at a coastal location, I can usually start looking for the elements that might make up the photograph.
Having a comfortable and well-lit workstation is something that can vastly improve your time working at your desk, and while many of us spend hours every day working at a computer, lighting is probably something that most of us don't give a huge amount of thought to.
When it comes to wireless microphones, there are already some very strong options available, so when a new system comes along, it needs to offer something more than simply being another wireless microphone.
There is something I have been thinking about recently, and it was not until I returned to a location I had photographed many years ago that it really started to bother me.
As a landscape photographer, I, like many others in this genre, take hundreds, if not thousands, of images every year. Some I like and others I love, but most of them stay on hard drives instead of being presented as prints, as they should be. However, what if we committed to printing more?
After years of creating landscape photography videos, tutorials, and behind-the-scenes content, I have learned one undeniable truth: reliable audio is just as important as the camera itself. In this review, I am putting both versions of the new DJI Mic Mini 2S through their paces to see how they perform in real-world outdoor conditions.
When it comes to content creation cameras, there has been no shortage of innovation over the years. Action cameras became more powerful, mirrorless cameras became smaller, and smartphones continued to close the gap. However, 2026 feels different. Every major manufacturer appears to be fighting for the same crown: producing the ultimate camera for content creators.
Back in September 2024, I sat down to write an article for Fstoppers called What I Wish I Knew Earlier. I had no idea it would eventually become a trilogy of books. At the time, it was simply an opportunity to reflect on some of the lessons landscape photography had taught me over the years.
Sharpness is one of the first things many photographers judge in a landscape image, but it is also one of the areas that caused me the most frustration when I was starting out. I used to come home convinced that I had captured strong images, only to load them onto a larger screen and realize the foreground was soft or the distant detail was not as sharp as I thought it would be.
There is a moment I've become very familiar with over the years. It usually happens on the drive home, just after I've packed the camera away and the light has long since faded.
It's that quiet realization that nothing from the day will make it into a final image.
No keeper. No portfolio shot. Nothing to process.
Trying different genres of photography can be both challenging and rewarding, especially when you either feel like a change or when the seasons force your hand. But have you ever considered infrared?
There was a time when I believed being prepared for landscape photography meant carrying as much gear as possible.
The longer I spend around photography, the more I realize how easy it is to quietly lose sight of why we started taking photographs in the first place.
It rarely happens all at once. Usually it happens gradually.
There have been plenty of times over the years when I have had to say the same thing to myself.
Wake up. Get out of your funk. Go do something different.
The whole vlogging camera market looks like it could be about to shift again, and the company that really set the standard for this category seems ready to make its mark once more.
When I first started learning photography, ISO was probably the setting I understood the least.
One of the biggest changes in my photography did not come from buying new gear, learning a complicated editing technique, or traveling to better locations. It came from something much simpler. I stopped relying on the idea that I could fix everything later in editing.
When it comes to branding, there are a number of elements that need to be considered. It needs to speak about your business while also evoking something in the viewer. It doesn't necessarily need to clearly explain what you do.
Most editing tools promise to speed up your workflow. Very few actually change how you work. After testing the Ulanzi D200X and Dial in real-world use, I wanted to see if either could genuinely reduce time at the desk or if they just add another layer to the process.
For years, my photo archive has lived across several external drives. At the beginning, that approach seemed perfectly fine. Each drive was labeled by trip or location, and it was easy enough to remember where things were. But as the archive grew, so did the confusion. I needed a solution.
Over the years, seascape photography has become the area of my work where shutter speed decisions matter most. Waves never repeat themselves, and small changes in exposure time can completely alter how water behaves in an image. A fraction of a second can preserve structure and texture, while a longer exposure can simplify the scene and emphasize static elements.
A photography workflow is simply a repeatable way of working. It covers how you prepare, how you shoot, and how you deal with your images afterward. In landscape photography, where light, weather, and access are often limited, having a workflow removes uncertainty and prevents small mistakes from becoming lost opportunities.
There is a habit many of us landscape photographers develop without realizing it. We drive past locations we know well, places we have seen dozens of times, and we tell ourselves we will stop another day. The light is not right. The weather is poor. We are on our way somewhere else. Over time, these familiar places become invisible. They are no longer considered options, only background.
Some ideas take years to resolve in photography—not because the location changes, but because your ability to translate what you see into an image takes time, experience, and sometimes the right tool.
It seems drones are all over the news recently—either new iterations of existing models promising to change your life, new entries to the market aiming to shake up the game, or even recent headlines suggesting that drones are “evil” and need to be banned. But what happens when a new kid on the block enters the race and suddenly makes a bit of sense?
It seems that there are new iterations of cameras released almost every second week—some new, and some with slight tweaks—but what happens when a camera system itself is unique? How can this be updated and improved from what is already quite niche? Let’s take a look.
Photography is often spoken about as if it were a competition, measured by likes, awards, or comparisons with others. Yet at its core, photography is a deeply personal practice. The way we see, decide, and capture moments is unique to each of us, shaped by our experiences, timing, and attention.
There’s a lot of talk about the Hasselblad XPan, usually centered around the price and the mystique behind that panoramic format. The camera has earned its reputation, and the images it produces have a distinct character. But when you look closely at what makes XPan photographs stand out, it becomes clear that the look is not locked behind a rare film camera.
When it comes to filmmaking, being able to see what you are shooting clearly and accurately is important and will affect the output greatly. Trying to judge your work on a small screen on the back of the camera is not conducive to high-quality results. This is why additional monitors are a key component for many filmmakers.
Seven years ago, I made a decision that has shaped the way I photograph wildlife ever since I bought the Sigma 150-600mm lens. It was for one specific purpose: to finally get closer to the action during the annual red deer rut in Ireland. Does it still stack up?
If you have been a photographer for any period of time, then perhaps, like me, you have a hard drive or hard drives full of images that you’ve taken over the years. But I ask you, how often do they see the light of day? Can reviewing them help you improve your photography?
Some people might totally disagree with me on this one. Many photographers will say that upgrading your equipment, traveling farther, or chasing the perfect light is what pushes your work forward. I don’t believe that anymore.
Every year when autumn arrives and the woodlands start to transform, I find myself turning my attention away from the sweeping landscapes and down to the forest floor. The change feels fitting — literally and figuratively — because photographing fungi is all about paying attention to the smallest details. It’s a slower, more deliberate process, where every small adjustment matters.
Understanding the histogram is essential for any landscape photographer who wants to master exposure and achieve their creative vision. The histogram provides a visual representation of the tonal range in your image, allowing you to make informed decisions in-camera and during post-processing.
