August has been a full and inspiring month for photography. Between early morning drives, quiet evenings in the woods, and misty explorations of Maine’s swamps, I’ve had plenty of opportunities to chase wildlife and experiment with new approaches to editing my work. Even though some of my goals for the summer—like capturing a moose or an owl—are still on the horizon, this month has been full of encounters and creative breakthroughs worth sharing.

Time in the Field
Wildlife photography is a game of patience and persistence. Some mornings, I set out before dawn, camera gear packed, coffee in hand, and wait for hours with no guarantee of a sighting. Other times, wildlife appears when I least expect it. August reminded me that each outing has value, even if I don’t come home with the shots I planned for.
One highlight of the month was spending time with a young fox. This pup is growing out of its baby coat, transitioning from soft fuzz to a sleeker adult look. Watching it move through tall grass and pause to listen for sounds was a reminder of how quickly nature changes from week to week. These little moments—when the animal seems unaware of me and just goes about its life—are what keep me heading back into the field.
I also had an unexpected encounter with a porcupine. They may not be the most graceful of animals, but there’s something endearing about their slow, deliberate movements. Their quills catch the light in surprising ways, and photographing one required me to slow down as well. It’s easy to get caught up in chasing larger or more elusive animals, but sometimes the best photographs come from appreciating what’s right in front of me.
Deer sightings were another part of my August outings. They tend to move quietly and blend into their surroundings, but when the light hits just right, they create scenes that feel timeless. A few early mornings provided that soft golden glow that makes a deer in the field look almost like a painting. These are the moments that remind me why I often sacrifice sleep to be outside at sunrise.
And of course, no month would be complete without time spent near the water with loons. Their haunting calls echo across lakes and swamps, and they remain one of my favorite subjects. One particular loon allowed me to watch as it settled down to rest, its reflection perfectly mirrored in the still water. It felt like the world held its breath for that one quiet moment.
Foggy mornings added another layer of magic to the landscape. In Maine’s swamps, the mist lingers low across the water, softening the trees and creating a dreamlike setting. Photographing in fog is always a challenge—exposure shifts, details hide—but it’s also a chance to create something that looks less like documentation and more like art. The way fog interacts with light is endlessly fascinating to me, and I know I’ll continue to chase these conditions into the fall.
The Ones That Got Away
As rewarding as this month has been, I can’t deny that I’ve been chasing a couple of elusive subjects. The moose, in particular, has been on my wish list all summer. I’ve visited the right areas at the right times, but so far, no luck. Part of me gets frustrated, but another part knows that the challenge is what will make the encounter even more memorable when it finally happens.
Owls are another story. I hear them often, calling in the distance late at night, but seeing one—let alone photographing one—hasn’t happened yet this season. These absences remind me that wildlife photography isn’t about checking boxes or collecting trophies. It’s about the pursuit, the time spent outdoors, and the surprises along the way.
A Fresh Look at My Work
Beyond field time, August has also been a month of reflection and refinement. I’ve been going through my galleries, curating my work more intentionally, and revisiting old images with a new perspective. Editing is a huge part of photography for me, not just to correct exposure or sharpen details, but to bring out the emotion I felt in the moment.
I’ve started re-editing some of my older photos to align more closely with my vision as an artist today. That means not every image is “true to color.” Instead, I want them to look like art—pieces that communicate mood, atmosphere, and personality. Sometimes that involves deep, moody tones; other times it’s about lifting shadows to reveal hidden textures. Each edit is a decision about how I want my work to feel, not just what I want it to show.
Photography has always been about more than just accuracy for me. A camera records light, but I use editing to interpret that light in a way that feels personal. My goal isn’t simply to document a fox, loon, or deer, but to create an image that invites the viewer to pause, to feel the stillness, the mystery, or the fleeting beauty of that moment.
Updating my galleries was also a way of narrowing my focus. Rather than showing everything I’ve ever captured, I want my website to reflect the best of my work—the images that carry my voice and vision most strongly. Curating is difficult because it means leaving out good photos in order to make room for great ones. But ultimately, it’s worth it. When someone visits my gallery, I want them to feel like they’re stepping into my way of seeing the world.
Looking Ahead
As summer transitions into fall, I know the landscape and wildlife will change with it. Cooler mornings, shifting light, and migrating birds will all bring new opportunities. I’ll continue chasing the moose and owls, and I’m sure other surprises will appear along the way.
August has reminded me that photography isn’t about one perfect shot or even one successful outing. It’s about building a body of work over time—images that tell a story of persistence, curiosity, and appreciation for the natural world.
I’m excited for what September will bring, both in the field and behind the computer screen. Whether I’m knee-deep in a swamp at sunrise, watching a deer graze in golden light, or refining an older image to match the artist I am today, each step is part of the journey.
Thanks for following along, and if you haven’t visited my updated galleries yet, I invite you to take a look. I hope the images feel less like snapshots and more like windows into the way I experience the world—sometimes realistic, sometimes artistic, but always deeply personal.
Until next time, here’s to chasing the next moment worth remembering.


