In 2026, I’ll be leading a small number of photography workshops to some of the most inspiring places on Earth, and I’d love for you to join me. These journeys are designed for photographers who are passionate about wildlife, nature, and expanding both their technical skills and creative vision. I’ve spent decades in the field, and it’s a privilege to share what I’ve learned with others who are eager to grow. We keep the groups manageable to ensure everyone gets personalized attention, and we’ve taken care to choose comfortable accommodations and smooth logistics so you can stay focused on photography. If you’re looking for an experience that blends learning, adventure, and unforgettable imagery, I hope you’ll consider traveling with us. Spots are limited, and I’d be honored to have you along!
Step into the heart of the Serengeti. Capture dramatic scenes of wildebeest families in motion, apex predators on the hunt, and the untamed rhythms of African wildlife in its natural habitat.
Photograph playful snow macaques in steaming hot springs west of Tokyo, then head north to Hokkaido to capture ethereal Japanese cranes, elusive foxes, and the awe-inspiring stellar sea eagles.
Witness the raw intensity of Alaskan brown bears fishing for salmon in wild rivers—a front-row seat to one of the most iconic wildlife spectacles on Earth.
Explore surreal desert landscapes in Swakopmund, rugged wildlife regions in Damaraland and Etosha, and the cultural richness of Windhoek while photographing Namibia’s striking contrasts.
Venture deep into lush rainforests to photograph orangutans, proboscis monkeys, exotic birds, and rare jungle flora in one of the planet’s most biologically diverse ecosystems.
Why Travel with Us?
✔ Learn directly from a world-renowned photographer and fine art educator ✔ Develop both technical expertise and artistic vision ✔ Enjoy curated accommodations and seamless logistics ✔ Manageable group sizes ensure hands-on instruction and mentorship
Spaces are limited to preserve a high-quality experience. Secure your spot now and elevate your photography in some of the most spectacular destinations on Earth!
This past April, May, and June offered a vibrant window for photography. In April Bhutan was brimming with cultural activity. Traditional festivals featuring masked and the famous black-hat dancers were taking place in colorfully curtained monastery courtyards. While it was too misty to see the high Himalayas at this time of year, the fog wafted through evergreen forests in the early mornings.
Later in May we photographed terraced rice paddies in northern Vietnam; it was a landscape rich in color and design. It was also an area great for abstract photography; a humid atmosphere combined with layer upon layer of paint and decaying posters creates wondrous photographic opportunities if you allow your imagination to run wild.
Between workshops I was able to fly off to Hawaii to witness Episode 25 of the Kilauea eruption—check out the video if you missed it! In June I conducted two workshops: a very wet experience in southern Oregon and then headed off to the wide open spaces of Wyoming. It was too sunny in Grand Teton National Park, but we were able to make it work, photographing stunning scenics at the margins of the day.
Whether you seek vibrant culture, sacred landscapes, or pristine wilderness, these months form a golden arc of opportunity for photographers across these four vivid, varied locations!
As a lifelong photographer, mountaineer and naturalist, I’ve always felt a deep connection to the wild. “Wild About Wildlife” month is a celebration of everything that makes our natural world so compelling—whether it’s the majesty of a snow leopard in the norther reaches of India or the bond between a mother and her cub up in Katmai. My latest book, Wild Lives, is a culmination of decades of travel and photography, showcasing the vibrant personalities of the animals I’ve encountered and the environments they call home.
This book is more than just a collection of images I’ve collected on my travels over the years; it’s an invitation to understand the emotional complexity of animals and the importance of preserving their habitats. As part of “Wild About Wildlife” month, I’m reminded of the urgent need for awareness and appreciation for our natural places and the denizens that call them home.
Enjoy Wild About Wildlife month! If you’re in the U.S. or happen to be visiting, get out and enjoy our National Parks and let the powers-that-be know what truly makes America beautiful. It certainly is not reducing the scientists who have dedicated their lives to the research and protection of our natural habitats to cleaning toilets, something I think we can agree on no matter the state of our politics. These folks have important jobs to do, from identifying biological trends, measuring the impact of a changing climate, curbing the spread of invasive species and much more!
This fall, I’m inviting you to join me at one of three unforgettable locations across the U.S.—I’d love for you to be part of the adventure! These workshops are designed for photographers at every level who are eager to capture stunning landscapes, receive expert guidance, and connect with like-minded creatives. We’ll share not only powerful photography experiences, but also meaningful critique sessions and some truly memorable meals.
Each location offers its own unique magic. In Colorado, we’ll chase golden light through alpine passes as the aspen groves turn to fire. On the Olympic Peninsula, we’ll immerse ourselves in ancient moss-draped forests, waterfalls, and the misty moodiness that makes the Pacific Northwest so special. And in Arizona, you’ll photograph the striking contrast of autumn cottonwoods glowing against the sculpted red rock desert.
These are my only U.S. workshops until mid-2026, so if you’ve ever dreamed of learning directly from me, this is your chance. Whether it’s the crisp mountain air, the deep greens of Washington, or the bold desert tones of Arizona that call to you, I promise an inspiring and transformative experience.
In July, I usually head north to places like Iceland, Svalbard, and Alaska. The days are long, the light is beautiful, and the wildlife is busy feeding before winter. It’s the perfect time to be out in nature with my camera.
I also enjoy traveling to the Southern Hemisphere, where it’s winter this time of year. Countries like Chile, Argentina, and South Africa have cooler, drier weather that makes for great wildlife and landscape photography. The low sun and clear air give everything a crisp, clean look.
Even in tropical places like Brazil’s Pantanal and the Amazon, there’s always something exciting to shoot in July. The seasons may not change as much, but the animals and landscapes are always full of life. No matter where I go, the changing light and weather make July one of the best months to photograph the natural world.
Enjoy the photos inspired by July! Next year at this time I’ll be in Mongolia to revisit the Eagle Hunters, Naadam games, Shaman and more – sign up today and join me on an adventure!
This past May, Gavriel Jecan and I led a tour through Vietnam’s northern region where we photographed the beautiful often terraced landscapes, the culture and commerce of daily life, and even found time to grab some abstracts. The people here are incredibly friendly and happy to share their culture with us. Add to this the awesome participants who joined us and this was a fantastic trip, offering a wide range of subjects. Enjoy the photos, and if you missed it, check out my recent story, video and images from a quick excursion to Hawaii to photograph the Kilauea eruption there to see what else I’ve been up to!
Despite a busy schedule, and thanks to my assistant Chris for her efforts to get me there, I was able to visit Hawaii and photograph the spectacular volcanic activity there that’s been going on for months. Despite adverse conditions on first arrival, I came away with some incredible shots that I’m happy with. Enjoy the video and stay tuned for more images from this trip!
Clouds catch the color of the waning light above Alaska’s magnificent Alsek mountains and lake, part of Glacier Bay National Park.
Early in Spring 1992 Ian Kean of the Canadian River League called me out of the clear blue. I had never heard of the River League and he had a proposal for me: he wanted me to join a group of writers and artists as the photographer for a two week float down the Tatshenshini River in western Canada and ending up in Dry Bay, Alaska. The Tatshenshini was being threatened by the proposed development of a huge copper mine, and Ian was intent on galvanizing support to protect this rich wilderness area from permanent environmental damage. Not only would it affect waters and lands on the Canadian side of the border, but the mine drainage would flow downstream into Glacier Bay and affect the rich fisheries and wildlife in the Gulf of Alaska.
Bear tracks on the banks of the Tatshenshini River, Yukon, Canada.
Of course, I jumped at this adventure and it became one of the best journeys of my life. In late July we met at the headwaters of the river on the east side of the coastal ranges in the Yukon. Anyone who’s ever been rafting knows about the incredible amount of gear and preparation that goes into such a venture. We inflated rafts and loaded them with gear and got underway on this grand adventure. Floating through a landscape is unlike any other form of travel. It can be so peaceful, then the river reminds you of its strength and your heart pounds with excitement. We saw moose along the river, and evidence of wolves and bears—their tracks imprinted on sand bars where we bivouacked.
A close-up of the rocks on the shore of the Tashenshini River, Yukon, Canada
Initially we experienced marginal weather, clouds and drizzle as we floated through dense forests and high glaciated mountains. I photographed what I call intimate landscapes, willows growing in sandbars, rushing waters opaque with glacial flour, and wildlife tracks. What I recall most vividly were the breathtaking views as we broke out of the mountains and clouds. The Saint Elias Mountains, Mount Fairweather and then the confluence with the Alsek River and its vast glacial-fed and iceberg-rich Alsek Lake is where everything came together photographically. Icebergs, mountain reflections, uncommonly still waters all combined for what would become the iconic shot. It was truly exhilarating.
Green willow branches push their way through a sandbar, Tatshenshini River, Yukon, Canada
Back in Seattle, the film developed, I provided the River League with the best photos from the journey. One image was looking east at sunset, captured the view of this timeless landscape. It was produced as a poster for fundraising and to send to lawmakers in Ottawa to drive home the epic beauty of this area. This was a wilderness to protect from exploitation forever, which it was in 1993, through no small effort on both sides of the border. The US was vigorously opposed to development, led by Vice President Al Gore. The Tatshenshini-Alsek Park is now a UNESCO World Heritage Site as well.
St. Elias Mountains, Alsek Lake, Alaska. Early morning light illuminates fog and floating icebergs, which combined with the jagged mountains creates a surrealistic view.
This is a great example of how a single salient photo can capture the spirit of a place, touch people on an emotional level and rally support. You look at the photo and cannot but think, “Of course, this must be saved, especially for generations to come.” Over the decades, it has been driven home to me time and time again, that yes, a single photo can be an exceptionally important conservation tool , connecting with people on a visceral level.
White water rafting, Alsek River, Yukon, Canada
As Earth’s land continues to be developed, it is necessary to protect greater and greater swaths of the natural environment, if not for our sanity, then certainly for our survival and the species we share the planet with. The Tatshenshini was protected nearly 25 years ago, and there is no shortage of wild areas that still have yet to be protected. I strongly encourage people to join and support local and international environmental-protection organizations. We only have one planet after all.
—Recycle & utilize sustainable alternatives, whether it’s in your day-to-day activities or camping. Simply using reusable water bottles and shopping bags is an easy thing to do that has great impact. There is great power when a lot of people do very simple things.
Grey wolf tracks in a sand bar, Tatshenshini River, Yukon, Canada
With the recent eruption of Mt. Etna in Italy, I’m reminded of a trip I made there in 1991 to photograph the volcano. It was an incredible and fortuitous trip – below you’ll find photos and the story behind the trip!
Mt. Etna Volcanic Eruption, July 2001
Upon returning from a trip to Bolivia in South America I turned on CNN as I was unpacking my bags and getting ready for a little down time at home. This is my typical routine to try and catch up on the news and world events as I can spend several weeks away from television and radio and in the days before the internet it was far more difficult to try and keep abreast of what’s been going on while I was away.
The lead story as I began sorting camera gear was of Mount Etna, the largest volcano in Europe. The reporters were focused on tremendous explosions coming from the summit and a river of lava that was slowly flowing down the flanks of the mountain threatening the town and homes in the valley below. What I saw, however, was not a great tragedy but an extraordinary event, nature in all its glory and I knew I just had to photograph it!
I was just home from three weeks in the field in Bolivia and instantly any thought of rest and jet lag vanished. With the phone in one hand, stuffing laundry into the washer with the other, I called my friend Patrice Aguilar, living in Marseilles in the south of France, and convinced him to drive down to Rome the following day, pick me up an drive me the length of Italy to Sicily. I can be very compelling at times. With his agreement my next call was to secure a flight and about 35 hours from the time I saw the news flash on the TV I was in Sicily. When it happens, you must be prepared and ready to go—no hesitation, no thinking about it, I just do it and worry about the consequences later.
With a four-wheel drive truck and a couple of press passes in hand we managed to find our way to the town where fire trucks were spraying down the leading edge of the lava river solidifying it and managing to redirect the flow around and out of harm’s way. As I sat there and watched this spectacle my first thoughts were if you were building a town on one of the most active volcanoes on the planet, wouldn’t you expect this would be coming some day? Perhaps that’s why they had the fire trucks standing by….
Though this was where you would find all the news crews doing their filming and reporting, this was at about 4,000 feet with only a view of the leading edge of the lava and this was not what I flew half the way around the world to see. The real event was up at 10,000 feet, up at the summit of Mount Etna, the source of all the destruction and mayhem.
Purchasing a map at a local store I could see there was a four-wheel drive track leading up the back side of the mountain offering far greater promise for what I was after. Leaving the CNN and European news crews behind we drove around the mountain, camped at the base enjoying some fine Sicilian fare we picked up in the town before we left, and before sunrise the next day drove our rig as high up on the mountain as we possibly could. Patrice is one heck of a driver. Determined to get us within reach of our goal he managed to navigate our way up to about 9,000 feet where we left the rig continuing on foot the remainder of the way.
Everyone else covering the action was left behind on the other side of the mountain, once we left the crowds and the last small town, we didn’t see another car or person again. By noon we were standing on the summit of Mount Etna with a view to the south looking down at the source of the lava river. One of the many cinder cones that dot the summit of the mountain had opened and began to spew forth its red-hot river of lava.
It was an absolutely beautiful sight to stand there and witness the raw power and beauty, the elemental art of the planet. I was in awe of the power to melt rock into this viscous ooze that flowed out from the depths of the mantle. For some time, Patrice and I just stood there trying to take it all in, the only two people around witnessing this amazing sight.
I knew the beauty I was seeing could not be adequately recorded on the Fujichrome Velvia film I had in my bags so we sat there on the summit just watching the performance and waiting for dusk when the ambient light would allow the lava to glow in all its glory. The darker it would get the more evident it would be in the tiny fissures and openings of the flow.
This was taking place in the month of July 2001 and though it was hot down in the valley below, up on the summit at 10,000 feet there was quite a chill in the air. It was getting colder as the sun began dipping below the horizon. Much to our relief the winds shifted as the sun went down and soon, we were basking in the warmth of the lava itself. There’s nothing quite like being warmed by the primal heat of the earth.
Serendipity wasn’t quite done shining on us yet. As the sun descended a full moon rose over the opposite horizon shining through the plume of the eruption which rose some 2,000 feet above the summit. The conditions couldn’t have been more perfect. To capture the full view of what I was witness to I shot this scene with a 16mm lens. You can see the explosion before you, though the scale won’t reveal the massive orbs of lava being thrown from the crater were the size of Volkswagen vans. Additionally, what you can’t get from photos is the sound of an active volcano expelling molten lava high up into the air. I don’t think it could have been louder If I had been standing behind a 747 on the tarmac with its engines at full power. It was extraordinary. This was far beyond anything my senses have experienced before or since. And then the smells—the molten earth was pungent and yet subtle, a bit like a strong barbecue, it did not have the rotten egg sulfur smell that you might imagine, for that I was quite grateful.
As I stood there photographing well into the evening the winds brought forth a gentle snow of pumice. They were cool to the touch and constantly sprinkled our heads and decorated the landscape at our feet. At times we’d just break into spontaneous laughter, it was unreal and almost a fantasy.
In my decades as a globe-trotting photographer this is one of my more memorable moments. Just 48 hours earlier I was getting out of a taxi at my home, thinking over what I had just shot in Bolivia, concerned with getting my laundry done, getting slides into the lab to be developed, thinking about working in the yard the following day… but instead I found myself sitting atop an erupting volcano as far away from my home as you could get with a good friend from France whom I’d not seen years. Life is good sometimes.
Back in October while leading a pair of tours in New Zealand, I spent some time with landscape photographer and educator Richard Young discussing landscape photography and finding captivating abstract images in nature.
I think one of the most unique things about about our tours is having the point of view that there are interesting shots all around us – it’s just a matter of identifying the elements of design, and the right way to frame them. We took some time to visit Richard’s studio and print out several images on an Epson P900, and the results were stunning!
Check out the video for some excellent tips from Richard. I contribute a few things myself. I’ll be heading back to New Zealand in late April of 2026, the perfect time to photograph the changing leaves in what is their fall season—reserve your spot now and save a little cash with early bird pricing.
If you were enticed by the prints, several of these images are available for purchase. Father’s day is coming up!
Tanzania – January 2026
Japan – February 2026
Namibia – Late August / Early September 2026
Borneo – September 2026
