I’ve shared this same composition in summer before, but with winter upon us I wanted to offer a glimpse of what Yosemite National Park and the Gates of the Valley likely look like this morning. Returning to the same places in different seasons is one of the great privileges of photography—watching the environment transform completely while the bones of the landscape remain timeless.
This morning along the Merced River, ice hugged the water’s edge and the cold was unmistakable. In summer, these banks are filled to the gills with visitors. In winter, especially during snowstorms, the park feels almost abandoned. Very few people come this time of year, and virtually no one sets up gear in the dark to photograph sunrises when the temperatures drop and the silence deepens.
These scenes can feel lonely—but it’s a good kind of lonely. The kind that quiets your thoughts and sharpens your senses. Standing there before dawn, with frozen fingers and a slow-moving river, it’s just me, the park, and God. Those moments of stillness, when the world pauses and the landscape speaks for itself, are always the most meaningful to me.
Today and throughout this holiday season I am wishing all my friends and your families peace, love and joy.