Photographing Vancouver Island: A Lesson in Letting Go
When the opportunity to visit Vancouver Island in British Columbia came up, I didn’t hesitate. I’d first heard of the island through the TV show Alone. While I have zero desire to rough it like the contestants on that show, the rugged beauty of the landscape stuck with me. I knew I wanted to see it for myself—on my own terms, camera in hand.
I signed up for a photography workshop with Viktoria Haack and Anna Morgan, two nature and landscape photographers I deeply admire. Their work speaks for itself, but what really drew me in was their thoughtful, respectful approach to the natural world—and how they show up as people.
Over time, I’ve learned to approach photography trips with fewer expectations. I no longer go in chasing specific shots. I’ve found that being open to whatever unfolds not only reduces pressure, but often leads to better results. Still, I’m human. There are times when the experience is incredible, but the photos don’t quite capture it. That disconnect can be frustrating, but it's part of the process.
I’m not a meticulous planner when it comes to photography, and that works for me. I like discovering places in the moment—responding to what I see, rather than following a script. If something surprises or moves me, that’s when I reach for the camera. Of course, I’ll still take the iconic “safety shot” if I’m in a well-known spot, but I don’t make it the goal.
True to form, I didn’t do much research before heading to the island. I followed the recommended packing list, showed up, and trusted the experience.
Photographing Vancouver Island turned out to be unlike anything I’ve done before. The rainforests were otherworldly—dense, vibrant, and layered with texture. There was so much green! At first, I felt completely disoriented. There was so much to take in, and so little time to get grounded. We also explored coastal areas—beaches and tide pools—which added a whole new element to my visual vocabulary.
And then it rained. For three days straight.
Rather than fight it, I leaned into what the conditions offered. The forest was saturated with color—every shade of green imaginable. I focused on the details: light filtering through moss, the curve of a branch, patterns on the forest floor. I looked for what caught my eye and trusted that.
This trip reminded me why I love photography. Not for the perfect shot, but for the way it forces me to slow down, observe, and be present in places I might never have otherwise known.
Check out the full Vancouver Island gallery here
