Deserts of Arizona & Utah

The American Southwest changes under the desert sun. Unlike buildings that grow up from the ground, these natural wonders carve downward, into stone, into stillness, into something ancient and rooted.

These photos, taken from Antelope Canyon and Horseshoe Bend, capture that intersection of time, light, and geography. In the canyon, beams of light slice through narrow sandstone walls, brightening soft textures and fluid shapes sculpted by centuries of wind and water activities. At Horseshoe Bend, the Colorado River curves in near-perfect symmetry, wrapping around a massive rock formation that rises out of nowhere.

As a photographer, I love these locations, where natural design rivals human architecture, and light becomes a collaborator. In Antelope Canyon, the light filters in slowly, forming shadows that are alive. At Horseshoe Bend, the light is harsher, broader, commanding the frame and painting the landscape in bold contrasts.

Shooting in these surroundings is all about patience and timing. These images were captured with a mix of handheld shots and tripod work, using narrow apertures to preserve depth and detail in the different formations. It’s landscape photography at its most niche step, where every new shift in light shows a new story written in stone.

Bryce Canyon takes on a different kind of majesty under stormy conditions. While many chase the “golden hour,” I enjoy something more powerful, and that is stormy skies, where diffused light drapes the background and cliffs in cranky tones.

These photos were captured just before and after a rainstorm. The sky rode low with deeply textured clouds, and the reds and oranges of the rock seemed even richer in contrast to the gray skies. The dramatic weather eased the harsh shadows and brought out a depth in the formations that sunlight often ruins. Every frame felt like a landscape caught in thought, with a sense of being quiet, intense, and alive at the same time.

As a photographer, stormy conditions challenge and inspire me. There is a tradeoff between predictable light for unpredictability, but in return, you gain a sense of drama that sunlight and a clear day can’t offer. In the canyons, the wind moves through like a conductor, swirling dust and motion in places that are usually still. And when the clouds part for even a moment, the contrast is spectacular.

These images were taken with a wide-angle lens and a mid-range aperture to balance foreground and distance. Shutter speed was adjusted to capture movement in the clouds without losing the texture of the background and land. The result is a set of photos that feel like a mood rather than a moment, where the weather is not just the backdrop, but a part of the story.

Toronto

Toronto becomes a new character after dark. The daytime bustle gives way to a glowing array of streetlights, with soft reflections, and long, winding roads that tell the stories of a city that never sleeps.

These images, taken from above the Gardiner Expressway, capture one of those moments. Blurred headlights outline movement across the frame, while the empty highway lanes and golden-lit overpasses shine in their emptiness. To me, this is a perfect example of how “motion and silence" can work together to create a powerful shot.

As a photographer, I’m drawn to contrasts like these. The warm lighting, the road’s symmetry, and the darkened skyline all come together to assemble a cinematic and deeply atmospheric masterpiece. Night photography is so special because the lighting itself becomes the subject. It sets the mood, carves the space, and invites the viewer to get into the photo.

Captured on an apartment in downtown Toronto near the waterfront, this photo was done with a slower shutter speed to highlight movement while maintaining focus on the structures and streetscape.

During the daytime, Toronto has a completely different rhythm. The city is always alive, but this time in a sharper focus, sunlight glistening off the glass of high-rises, ferries cutting through the water, and the skyline standing tall against a crisp, blue sky.

These photos, taken from a high-rise near the waterfront of Queens Quay, capture that daytime energy. The boats in the lake echo the geometry of the cityscape. Skyscrapers reflect the light at various angles, each revealing its story of contemporary design and continuous motion.

As a photographer, I am drawn to these kinds of moments. Movements where structure and light come together. There is a peaceful intensity in the harbor’s still water, countering the dynamic angles of the massive skyscrapers. It is a different distinction from that of night photography, but it is just as compelling. Here, it’s the natural light that evokes the subject, emphasizing consistency, producing scale, and engaging the viewer in a deep urban landscape.

Captured during mid-morning with a polarizing filter and a fast shutter speed, these images focus on clarity, composition, and the subtle interplay between Toronto’s architecture and its lakefront life.