Photography in the Quiet Times: Learning, Waiting, Growing

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Behind the scenes: editing clips for a special project that’s been soaking up a lot of my creative energy.

I haven’t been out much with my camera lately.

Between some upcoming projects I’ve been planning, the usual balancing act with my day job, and a special project that’s been taking up a lot of my focus, time has been short.

No sunrise alarms. No muddy boots. No early morning arguments with my tripod about where it should stand 🤦‍♂️.

And that’s okay.

Photography has a strange way of making you feel like you should always be creating. The endless scroll of Instagram and the pressure to “stay consistent” can trick you into thinking that if you’re not out shooting every weekend, you’re falling behind. But the truth is, photography is a long game, and long games need pauses.

Right now, I’m in one of those pauses.

Not because I’ve lost interest, but because I’m waiting. Waiting for the golden colours of autumn 🍂, when the trees flare up like fire and every woodland path feels like a new canvas. That season is still a few weeks away, but you can already see the hints of it in the ferns, some of them turning yellowy gold. And when it arrives, I’ll be ready.

A woodland scene where the ferns are just starting to turn yellow, early hints of the autumn colours to come.

In the meantime, I don’t just sit idle.

Even without pressing a shutter, I’ve found ways to keep my eye sharp and my brain tuned in:

Revisiting old shots. It’s amazing how differently a photo can feel six months later. My editing has changed, my eye has grown, and sometimes I even wonder who took it. Was it me, or some rogue photographer who borrowed my SD card?

Studying composition in everyday life. Yes, I’m that person staring at shadows on a wall while everyone else just walks past.

Learning from others. Whether it’s watching a YouTube breakdown of someone’s shoot, reading a blog, or flicking through a photo book, absorbing different perspectives always sparks something new.

Staying inspired. Following photographers I admire reminds me that there’s no single “right way” to approach this craft. Everyone’s path looks different, and that’s the beauty of it.

Working on something special. A project I can’t quite share yet, but one that’s been soaking up a lot of my creative energy. Think of it as my photography equivalent of slow-cooking a stew.

The quiet spells also have another gift: they reset your relationship with photography. When I do get back out there, it won’t feel forced. It’ll feel fresh, like seeing with new eyes.

So if you’re in a similar place, if life is busy, the weather isn’t playing ball, or you just don’t feel like heading out, give yourself permission to pause. You’re not falling behind. You’re recharging. And when the right season, light, or moment arrives, you’ll step into it with more energy than before.

For the Photographers

💡 Try this: open your Lightroom (or whatever you use) and scroll back at least six months. Pick one photo you skipped over, one you didn’t think was worth editing, and give it a shot now. You’ll probably notice how much your eye has improved since then, and you might just end up with a hidden gem.

If you’re looking for something to read during a quiet spell, here are two books I’ve found inspiring:

• The Landscape Photography Workshop by Mark Bauer (affiliate link). A gift from my wife, and a book I return to often. It’s a practical guide packed with exercises, tips, and real-world examples that make you see landscapes in a new way.

• What’s Your Dream? by Simon Squibb (affiliate link). Not about photography directly, but a brilliant mindset read. It’s all about chasing creativity, embracing risk, and building confidence. All lessons that carry over when you’re standing behind a camera.

Final Thought

Photography isn’t just about the images we take; it’s also about the rhythms in between. The pauses, the anticipation, the learning, the waiting. Right now, I’m happily waiting for the autumn gold to arrive. Because when it does, I know it’ll be worth every quiet week that led up to it (and maybe even worth the muddy socks 🧦).