A sick day took my camera out of my hands and, unexpectedly, made me think more deeply about photography than I had in a long time. When you can’t go out, can’t shoot, and can’t even review your photos, something else happens: you start asking the bigger questions. Why do I photograph? Who am I doing it for? And where am I really heading as a photographer?

Huomenna alkaa koko päivän kestävä matkustaminen pidennetyn viikonlopun mittaiseen luontovalokuvausmatkaan. Pari-kolme päivää aikaa ottaa kuvia ja täyttää kameran muistikortteja. Tomorrow marks the start of a full day of travel for an extended-weekend nature photography trip. I’ll have two or three days to shoot and fill the camera’s memory cards.

I recently came across a post by wildlife photographer Christopher Forslund about the principles that guide his photography. As a photographer still developing my own approach, I find it inspiring to see how others shape their work. I focus on being present, waiting patiently, and capturing moments where light, background, and the subject all align—though in nature, that alignment often comes down to luck. These guiding principles help me stay grounded and remind me why I bring my camera into the wild.

My best photo? I haven’t taken it yet. Every moment in nature could surpass the last. So far this year, it’s my white-tailed eagle from a photography trip. Technically solid, yes—but more importantly, it represents hours of waiting, patience, and respect for the subject. Photographs like this remind us why nature matters. Rare species exist only if habitats are protected, and a single image can make people stop and look. The best photo is still ahead—and that’s why I’ll keep going back.

A winter day in the eagle hide, from early morning ravens to midday golden eagles—quiet observation and rewarding shots made the early start worthwhile.

All my photographs are natural and my own. Digital tools do not change the moment or the light – they only help me return to what I saw through the viewfinder.

After the Christmas holidays, we made a short visit to Siikakoski in Konnevesi. With low winter sun, blue skies, and just a few degrees of frost, the rapids were alive with movement. It didn’t take long before three White-throated Dippers appeared, hopping between rocks and diving into the icy water—perfect proof that winter photography can be both calm and rewarding.

Behind the numbers of an eagle hide photography trip lies a carefully planned workflow. From thousands of RAW images and high-speed burst shooting to strict culling and a streamlined Bridge–Lightroom process, this post breaks down how moments are captured — and how the best frames are finally chosen.

The day began in darkness, long before sunrise, deep in a remote wilderness where human presence feels temporary and small. Guided only by headlamps, we crossed a frozen bog toward low hides hidden in...