Walking Into Stillness
Forest bathing as a mindset for photography
The first time I heard the phrase Shinrin-yoku, it immediately made sense to me. It’s a Japanese term that translates to forest bathing, but it has nothing to do with water—and everything to do with presence.
It’s the practice of walking slowly and quietly through a forest, not with a goal or destination, but simply to be in the atmosphere of the woods. Noticing. Letting your senses recalibrate. Immersing yourself in the environment. Paying attention to the details and noticing things that normally go unnoticed.
Recalibration.
I didn’t realize it at the time, but this is already how I’ve been approaching many of my outings with a camera
.
A camera in the bag
When I head into the woods with my gear, I often don’t take it out right away—or I leave it hanging around my neck. Immediately putting the camera to your eye and searching can stop you from noticing the subtle details around you.
Instead of chasing a subject, I wait to see what catches my interest. I listen for wind moving through branches. I watch how light filters through the trees, or how a patch of moss catches the warmth. I try to notice what draws my eye without immediately asking how to photograph it.
Some days, nothing clicks. But more often than not, something shifts. A shape, a color, a sliver of light reveals itself, and I begin to see the potential.
That’s when the camera comes out
.
Composing the moment
When something catches my attention, it often feels like the image is already there, waiting. I don’t want to rush it. I take time to study the angles, check the edges, and feel the balance of the frame. I try to capture not just what I’m seeing, but the quiet I felt when I first noticed it.
Once I find something interesting, it’s not a question of how to document it—how to show what it looked like. It’s a question of how to highlight it. There’s more to capture than a physical object. The object may still be there tomorrow, but the moment will be gone. The atmosphere, the light, the shadows—they may never be quite the same.
“One does not photograph something simply for what it is, but for what else it is.”
— Minor White
Composing the image is a matter of including what drew your attention and excluding everything else. What is it about this moment that attracted you?
When it works, you don’t just capture a scene. You capture a moment in time that will never happen again.
When it works, you can capture how that moment felt.
Sorting out the chaos
Forest scenes can usually be pretty chaotic and busy. At first glance, there are trees and brush all over. So, how do you find an image here?
Don’t just glance at the scene; take the time to really look. You need to begin simplifying.
Atmosphere can help by obscuring the background. Things closer to the camera keep their detail. But things farther away begin to fade away
Look for light patterns and shapes. Light filtering through the forest canopy can be mottled and highlight different areas. Combined with shapes and patterns in the trees and vegetation can provide interest.
Get closer. You can simplify by taking a narrower composition if you move closer or by using a longer lens. If the scene is too chaotic, try excluding more of it.
Moving trees and moving clouds can change the light patterns coming through the canopy. Find something of interest and be patient. There’s a good chance that it will eventually receive the spotlight
Atmosphere Such As Fog Help Isolate Elements .
A different kind of photo series
My Visual Field Journal series is based on this way of photographing—more images than words, but always grounded in this approach.
These won’t be tutorials or gear lists. They’ll be quiet reflections from walks in the woods and other still places. Sometimes I’ll describe what I saw. Other times, I might just let the images speak.
If you’d like to follow along, check out my Visual Field Journal.