Then there are a good number of amateur photographers who dream of someday making it big as a pro nature or travel shooter. Some may even have the lofty goal of living the life of a golden-throned National Geographic photographer. They'll run around, sometimes en masse, snapping away at all the beautiful landscape, nature, and travel icons they'd seen decorating the pages of countless magazines and calendars. Yet few can consistently produce images that stand out in a sea of similar material.

What approach can help photographers produce a greater body of exceptional work within the landscape, nature, or travel genre markets that are already swamped with an overabundance of images?

When I answer this question for my students, I try to get them to think about what it is that binds all photographers in common. Foremost, we are all visual storytellers. Second, and equally important for us as working professionals, we like to consider ourselves problem solvers. Once we step out of the doors of a studio or home, we're by default giving up some of our control to the environment. The outside world is constantly changing, presenting us with new opportunities, challenges, and problems that arise while we're trying to get our shots.

But it's exactly that ever-changing environment that presents us with the opportunity to create extraordinary images. Because things are changing from moment to moment, we can assume that one moment may be better than the next, or vice versa. Our choice then becomes at what moment should I press the shutter? My old boss used to say, "If it looks good, shoot it. If it looks better, shoot it again."

One morning I was in Yosemite Valley taking a shot of El Capitan through the trees. As I was taking my shots, I noticed a raven flying toward me between the trees. I had just an instant to spin my aperture open to give me as much shutter speed as possible. I got off exactly one frame, waiting for that one instant where I thought the bird was in the right spot. I guarantee that while all my shots of just El Cap through the trees look good, they all pale in comparison to this one special moment when an added new element suddenly entered the environment. It's this one moment where all the elements converged in an instant that speaks volumes more about the feeling of being in Yosemite, far more than any image of the individual elements could do on their own.

Let's look again for a moment at that first binding point; we're all visual storytellers. One thing I've noticed with photographers pursuing a career in outdoor or travel photography is many seem to have forgotten that fact. I often see work where the photographer was simply interested in making a pretty photo or bagging a good shot. As you can imagine, the results were usually just... pretty good. Unfortunately that's not enough to create compelling stand out imagery. Many times their story is lost or weak primarily because they've forgotten the fact they're *supposed* to be telling me a story.

One of the techniques I like to use is have photographers train themselves in the field to think like a photojournalist. The key to being a great photojournalist, whether news or sports, is to capture a single key decisive shot taken at a peak moment of action, or a moment that tells a particular story in the most clear, concise way possible. When done right, it's that photojournalistic moment telling the story as if it was a headline punctuated by an exclamation mark.

In order to reinforce this idea of thinking like a photojournalist, I often suggest that photographers mentally ask themselves a series of questions, taking what might be a very subconscious thought and giving it a very conscious and tangible answer. Why am I here? What do I see? What do I like? What don't I like? What would I try to say about this scene to someone that's never seen it before?

The key here is then shifting the brain to a more receptive and anticipatory mode of thinking. Taking this idea further down the photographic avenue, it's time to make some analytical queries. Throw in a couple questions that deal specifically with the idea of a decisive moment; what is happening now, and what is likely to happen next? What will be different if I stay here? What might change if I decide to move over there, or come back at another time?

There's an old saying, "Chance favors the prepared." These types of questions are meant to prepare our minds; to put ourselves in the best position to get the best chance of getting the best shot. Being ready for and receptive to those decisive moments should be no different for a nature or travel photographer then it is for studio or wedding photographer waiting for their model or bride to give that one special instant of the perfect expression or look.

One of the best examples of a decisive moment in nature photography would obviously be something like catching a bolt of lightning, primarily because they represent the pinnacle of an ephemeral and transient moment.

Closer to home here in California and much easier to catch than lightning bolts, I like to suggest photographers head out to the beach and spend some time photographing waves. After spending an afternoon photographing countless crashing waves, I encourage them to head home, load all their images into the grid or lightbox view of their favorite imaging program, i.e. Lightroom or Bridge, etc.. Invariably I tell them a small handful of images will always stand out from all the others as being better. I tell them those few images are the shots where the definitive moment came along and added the exclamation point. With practice, a photographer can learn to anticipate, recognize, or feel when that decisive moment is about to happen, and be prepared to react accordingly.

Here's a great example of how two similar yet different moments can lead to decidedly different interpretations of an image. The first photo is about a bird apparently reading the sign, whereas the second seems to imply a reaction to what the bird just read. When I saw the bird on the sign, it would have been easy to just take a quick shot with the bird just standing there. The better choice was to wait and click the shutter when someone (or in this case, the bird) is doing something. When someone or something is active, that means there's an opportunity to catch a decisive moment, vs. a more stagnant, generic moment.

Unlike a true photojournalist though, we can also choose to act; to do something (if needed) to help facilitate a decisive moment happen. I recall one instance when shooting for my first book on the California coast. I'd scouted a location, only to return at sunset to find a family sitting on this narrow spot, exactly where I wanted to put my tripod to photograph the distant rocks. My environment had suddenly changed on me. At first I was disappointed I was going to lose my shot. At that moment, my mind quickly snapped into photojournalist mode. What's here? What's in front of me? What do I like? What can I make of this?

I quickly changed my set-up to a wide angle lens, and asked the family if could take their photo. With the light quickly changing, and the family just sitting there, I had a nice photo, but it wasn't anything special. At that moment, I pointed out to sea and asked the kids if they saw the whale. (There was no whale.) At that moment the mom pointed to show the kids where I had pointed. Click; the definitive moment arrived.

Sure I could have 'directed' the family by saying things like, "Mom, point over there. Now kids, look where your mom is pointing." But these are real people, not models, and not someone who's there expecting to have their photo taken. By employing a little 'trick', I was able to get their expressions and attention to appear in a completely natural moment.

This simple waterfall shot also highlights the principle of the decisive or definitive moment, though not so obviously. Shooting this waterfall deep inside a redwood forest, I wanted flat, even lighting. I knew that bright sunlight in a forest usually made a scene look too contrasty. I picked a morning that called for a partly cloudy day. When a buddy and I started our hike, the skies were bright blue, and clear; everything I didn't want. By the time we got to the waterfall a few hours later, clouds at started to form. The sun would be hidden for a few minutes giving me the flat even lighting that I wanted. Before long, the sun would reappear, causing extremely bright highlights on the water, ruining my shot.

After spending time shooting, I became aware that I was growing less fond of the flat even light, in much the same manner as the bright sunlit scene. However, there was always a moment in between where my mind would suddenly shout, "Yes, that's it!" As it turned out, there was a very brief moment between those moments of sun and shade where the best of both worlds came together. As I described it later, it was as if someone was turning a circular dimmer switch on the sun, or slowly raising and lowering stage lights over a period of five to ten seconds. I realized by catching the shot during those brief few seconds, I could get a decisive moment where light and subject would meet in perfect balanced harmony.

So in conclusion, if you want to take shots that are more unique or special, you need to look for more of those unique and decisive moments whenever and wherever you are. Think like a photojournalist. Ask yourself questions that will help you tell a clearer story with more impact. Learn to anticipate decisive or definitive moments. Is there anything you can do to help facilitate those moments, or to put yourself in the right place at the right time? Training yourself in this manner will help you bring back more stand-out images from all of your outdoor excursions.

© Gary Crabbe

About the Autor
Gary currently resides in Pleasant Hill, California, just outside San Francisco. Gary began taking pictures while attending Humboldt State University, where he received a Bachelors Degree in Social and Adolescent Psychology, and a Masters Degree in Directing, Acting, Writing, and Production for the Theater. His interest in photography began to grow after taking an elective class in Black & White, but he soon found his passion was the pursuit of color and form in nature. 

You can view Gary's work and books by visiting his website at http://www.enlightphoto.com/