I want to talk about capturing memories through photography. It’s one of those things that can feel so simple—just point your phone at something, snap a picture, and move on. But when you really think about it, photography is so much more than that. It’s a way of freezing a moment in time, a way of holding onto something you might otherwise forget.

For me, photography really started as a way to document my adventures. Whether I’m hiking a trail, running a race, or just exploring the city, I always feel this urge to capture what I’m seeing. But over time, I’ve realized it’s not just about the big, epic views. Sure, those are great, but the little moments—the ones you almost overlook—are just as important. Like the way the light filters through the trees in the morning, or the way someone’s face lights up when they’re laughing. Those are the shots that really stick with me.

One thing I’ve learned is that photography forces you to slow down. When you’re trying to get a great shot, you have to stop, look around, and really notice what’s happening in front of you. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been out on a trail and almost missed something incredible because I was so focused on getting to the next thing. But when I take a moment to frame a shot, it’s like the whole world opens up. You start to see patterns, textures, colors—things you might have walked right past.

And it doesn’t have to be complicated, either. I’m no professional photographer, and I don’t have a fancy camera. Most of the time, I’m just using my phone. But even with something as simple as a phone camera, you can create beautiful images. The key, I think, is paying attention to light. Early morning and late afternoon—what photographers call “golden hour”—are magic for a reason. The light is softer, warmer, and it makes everything look a little more alive. If I’m out during those times, I’m always looking for how the light is hitting the landscape, or even just how it’s creating shadows.

Another thing I’ve gotten into recently is experimenting with angles. Instead of just standing there and taking the obvious shot, I’ll try crouching down, climbing up onto something, or tilting the camera to see how it changes the perspective. One time, I was out at Rattlesnake Ledge, and instead of just snapping the view from the top—which, don’t get me wrong, is stunning—I decided to lie down and shoot up through the branches of a tree. The result was this really cool, almost abstract image of the leaves against the sky. It’s not the typical “I climbed a mountain” shot, but it’s one of my favorites.

Of course, photography isn’t just about landscapes. I’ve been trying to get better at capturing people, too. There’s something so powerful about a candid moment—when someone doesn’t even realize you’re taking their picture. Those are the shots that feel the most real to me. Like, I’ll be out with friends, and instead of saying, “Hey, let me take your picture,” I’ll just quietly snap a shot while they’re talking or laughing. It’s those unposed, unguarded moments that tell the real story.

Editing is another piece of the puzzle, and honestly, it used to intimidate me. I thought editing was this complicated thing that only professionals did. But it doesn’t have to be. There are so many apps now that make it super easy to tweak your photos. I’ll usually just adjust the brightness, contrast, and maybe the saturation to make the colors pop a little more. It’s not about making the photo look fake or overly polished—it’s just about bringing out what was already there.

One thing I’ve started doing is creating photo books. I used to let my pictures sit on my phone, forgotten until I ran out of storage. But now, every so often, I’ll go through and pick out my favorite shots from a trip or a season and put them into a little album. There’s something so satisfying about holding those memories in your hands instead of just scrolling through them on a screen. Plus, they make great conversation starters when people come over.

Photography has also taught me a lot about gratitude. When you’re looking for things to photograph, you start to notice all the beauty around you—the little things you might have taken for granted otherwise. Like, the other day, I was walking through the city after it rained, and I noticed how the puddles on the sidewalk were reflecting the sky. It was such a small thing, but it made me stop and smile. And now I have that moment captured forever.

At the end of the day, photography is personal. It’s not about creating something perfect or impressive—it’s about creating something that means something to you. It’s about freezing time for just a second, so that years from now, you can look back and remember not just what something looked like, but how it felt. And to me, that’s what makes it so powerful.