The Click of the Shutter

Some people think photography is simple—just point the camera, click, and the photo magically appears. I completely disagree. As a photographer, I can tell you it’s far from that.

Photography, for me, begins long before I even pick up the camera. It starts in the mind, as an idea, an image that slowly takes shape. What do I want to capture? At what time of day? What colors am I chasing? Where in the world will this image exist? These are the questions that spark the beginning of every photograph.

As a wildlife and nature photographer, my subjects rarely live outside my back door. This means my vision doesn’t only require artistic planning—it requires logistical planning. Trips need to be researched, scheduled, and budgeted. I ask myself: What year will I go? What season offers the best light? What’s the weather like at that time? How will I get there—by plane, by car, or maybe even by boat? Each answer leads to another layer of preparation before I’m anywhere close to pressing that shutter.

And then comes the reality of cost. Saving, planning, and finally setting off on the journey are all part of the process. But even with every detail carefully thought through, there are obstacles I can’t control. Will the weather cooperate? Will the wildlife appear? How long will I have to wait? Am I alone, or do I need to consider someone traveling with me?

You see, to capture a photograph that is truly meaningful takes far more than just the click of a button. It’s about nurturing an idea, crafting it in your mind, and waiting for the perfect moment when all the elements—light, weather, subject, and patience—finally align.

And even then, the process isn’t over. When I return home, I bring with me not a finished photograph, but a raw file—a modern version of a negative. That’s when the editing begins. Many believe that software creates the image, but I disagree. As Ansel Adams famously said, “The negative is the score; the print is the performance.” One cannot exist without the other.

Photography is not just a click of the shutter. It is vision, persistence, patience, planning, and yes—artistry.

And this is also why, when a print is sold, its price reflects far more than the paper and ink. Each piece carries with it the months—or even years—of preparation, the travel across landscapes, the countless hours of waiting, and the discipline of knowing when to press the shutter. Then comes the professional printing process itself, where quality materials and techniques ensure the image will last a lifetime.

So, when someone looks at a print and says, “That’s expensive,” I would argue the opposite: it is priceless. You are not buying a piece of paper; you are investing in the vision, the journey, and the artistry that made that fleeting moment eternal.