The Spirit of Place
“When you regain a sense of your life as a journey of discovery, you return to rhythm with yourself. When you take the time to travel with reverence, a richer life unfolds before you. Moments of beauty begin to braid your days.”
- John O’Donohue, Beauty: The Invisible Embrace
Seeing compositions in the landscape can be a challenge — a beautiful, rewarding, and sometimes frustrating challenge — made easier once the photographic eye is ‘in’ and we are attuned to the spirit of the place that we find ourselves exploring. Time is our greatest ally as we attempt to find resonance with a place. In the modern world, we are so often distracted from our true, spiritual nature by constant stimulation from devices and their notifications, as well as electronic signals, and countless other stimuli. Our attention is our most valuable resource in the 21st Century. How often do you find yourself giving yours away cheaply? We collectively long for deeper connections with our loved ones, ourselves, and the natural world, but how often are our minds elsewhere and not ‘here’ in the moment that has called to us?
Recent technological advancements in the ever-growing digital landscape have, no doubt, contributed to higher levels of stress and anxiety. In my experience, high stress is not conducive to creativity and can inhibit a person’s ability to focus. Therefore, I can’t help but wonder how our societal ‘progression’ impacts our ability to think creatively and, in the case of the photographer, to see meaningful photographs emerge from the landscape. It is difficult to enter the creative state when one’s energy is disturbed. Rushing around without focus has become the norm. How can photographs possibly find us when we are focused on future tasks, or, of course, dwelling on past experiences? It takes deep presence to create meaningful photographs.
Finding Resonance
There is a particular resonance that one feels from certain landscapes. These wild, untamed places invoke and awaken the soul, bringing forth that which is inexplicable from within the human vessel. When we take tentative steps into these sacred landscapes, we are entering a cathedral. We silently encounter the divine in the mirror of the outer world.
I have long believed that every place has its own spirit. If we are open, this spirit becomes a part of us. If we silence our minds for long enough, we feel the spirit’s whispers gently caressing our bones. It is this alluring feeling in the woodland sanctuary within that one must learn to interpret, and subsequently react to, if one is to make personally meaningful, expressive photographs that resonate deeply with another soul, awakening the kind of emotional response that every artist dreams of. This belief forms part of my personal philosophy as an artist — that we are the very landscape through which we walk. I am, therefore, not photographing trees or lakes, but parts of myself mirrored in the external world.
Whilst tutoring on group workshops and one-to-ones, I like to encourage attendees to hold this idea at the forefront of their minds. When we cross the threshold of the landscape with reverence and enter the creative state of mind, the spirit of Mother Nature calls for us to become attuned to her. She tempts us to return home. Refusing to surrender to our egos and rather coming home to the soul, we attune our energetic body to the frequency of Nature and the spirit of a place. This trust ensures that our photographs are in service of something greater, beyond Her lustful beauty.
When Deep Presence Reveals Photographs
As I embark upon a conversation with another photographer during tuition sessions, I am often aware that the landscape surrounding their vessel starts to mould itself into photographs. Conversation can be a portal to a place of deep presence, allowing the observer to enter their state of observation. It is in this place of presence — a mystical and often foreign place to the modern human — that I become the witness to the unfolding of beauty and begin to sense opportunities for it to be recorded with the camera.
It takes patience to find this place of deep presence, and it takes patience to create meaningful photographs. In photography, as with my previous life as an aspiring bodybuilder, I have learned firsthand that hard work and consistency yield extraordinary results. The most difficult work in the world of landscape photography is not mastering the technical features of the camera, much to the frustration of many who begin their journey to create. Rather, it begins when one sets out into the landscape with inspiration from Mother Nature and curiosity in pursuit of a creative vision that restores one’s sense of self-sovereignty.
A Defining Personal Creative Chapter
When I think about one of my most prolific chapters as a photographer, I am transported back to 2021. It was a year in which I was immersed in the natural world, having left full-time employment and begun placing bricks in the wall of self-employment. My only real focus throughout this year was on producing a meaningful portfolio of photographs. In hindsight, I might have focused some more of my energy on creating revenue streams for the long-term, but my newfound sense of freedom and insatiable hunger to express repressed parts of myself led me to roam the landscape with single-minded vigour. Having saved a small amount of money to see me through as I built a new life for myself, I created and expressed without too much care or worry for the future.
During this year, I unearthed a deep love of and reverence for wise, ancient oaks and silver birch trees along the way. It was during this period of my life that I believe I was most attuned to Nature and that my resonance with the landscape was at its strongest. This resonance is what resulted in some of my most meaningful photographs to date. Perhaps it was also that I had found my soul’s true calling by entering the Welsh woodland and communing with trees that have, ever since, held me safely in their warm embrace.
Finding Resonance through Ancient Language
Trees have been a source of inspiration and hope for human beings for as long as history has been recorded. All ancient scriptures, as well as inspirational modern stories, talk of our great reverence for these wise and sentient beings. In the Bible’s Genesis, Adam and Eve ate the apple from the Tree of Knowledge. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings tells the story of Ents fighting back against the forces that are harvesting the Earth’s energy for dark purposes. The Druids held trees, particularly the oaks, in high regard, considering them to be gateways between worlds and telling their stories as symbols of life, death, and rebirth.
It seems as though people have been finding resonance with the ancient language of trees for eternity. This is no surprise, given that the average lifespan of an oak tree, for example, is between 200-300 years. One yew tree in North Wales has been gathering wisdom through its roots and leaves for an estimated 4,000-5,000 years, making it a possible convening point for the Ancient Druids themselves. A single ancient yew tree could hold the stories of 160 generations of human beings. Can you imagine how much wisdom is stored by trees collectively?
Trees are the great wisdom keepers of our world, whispering messages for those who are quiet enough to hear them. When I enter a woodland, it is as though I have crossed an invisible boundary into a sacred world. A sense of safety washes over me. It feels like I have been relieved of all the baggage that has been weighing down on my shoulders. Whenever I am around trees, I return home to my senses and become fluent in the unspoken language of feelings and intuition. Within the womb of the misty woodland, I have found the place that resonates with my soul — a spiritual place that has allowed me to heal old wounds and unearth a deep sense of purpose. After many years of searching, I have found where it is that I belong. The woodland is a sanctuary for anyone seeking respite and healing.
“What you encounter, recognise, or discover depends to a large degree on the quality of your approach. Many of the ancient cultures practiced careful rituals of approach. An encounter of depth and spirit was preceded by careful preparation.
When we approach with reverence, great things decide to approach us. Our real life comes to the surface, and its light awakens the concealed beauty in things. When we walk on the earth with reverence, beauty will decide to trust us. The rushed heart and arrogant mind lack the gentleness and patience to enter that embrace.”
- John O’Donohue, Beauty: The Invisible Embrace
Respect Yields Immeasurable Rewards
Our approach to a landscape is of the utmost importance if we wish to strike a resonance with spirit and create meaningful work. When we walk with reverence and respect shown towards Mother Nature, she often rewards our innocence with moments of the purest beauty. Our job is simply to remain curious and open to new experiences; to ‘know’ too much is to limit oneself and to ensure that the window of creative opportunity remains bolted closed.
Photographs aside, the real reward of our connection with the spirit of Nature is in what we become through the process. Every experience alters us, and every place becomes a part of us. Like a giant jigsaw puzzle, we get to add and remove parts of ourselves as we please — just like the trees, we are constantly undergoing our own cycle of life, death, and rebirth. As we find resonance with the spirit of place and our energy attunes to the frequency of the natural world, profound shifts begin to occur within our Being.
I have noticed an incredible transformation within my own body and mind since I took my first enthusiastic steps into the world of Nature in 2018. My world then was shaped by episodes of domestic abuse and violence. I was surrounded by chaos and destruction for the first eleven years of my life. Throughout my teenage years and early adulthood, I was lost in the world, drifting aimlessly with no direction or hope for the future. I drank alcohol, partied as I searched for my place to belong, and buried much of my inherited stresses and anxieties beneath layers of a false self. That, sadly, is a cycle that many young men fall into when they are guided by the kind of father figures I had.
Thankfully, I took a spoonful of bittersweet medicine at the age of twenty-six and tasted my first romantic heartbreak. Following a short period of depression, I awoke from my slumber and wandered outdoors, finding the sanctuary that I had long been searching for: a home. Through a long healing process, whilst cradled in the arms of the trees, I became one of them. My now-life partner refers to me as her tree, informing me that I am the embodiment of their energy: strong, grounded, stable, and rooted. I became everything my three father figures were not.
With that in mind, I am reminded of the words a friend shared with me recently, whilst we were hiking to the summit of Cnicht. After telling him about some of my struggles with creative motivation following the end of my first creative chapter, he uttered, ‘Maybe you’re the art now.’ Those few simple words, delivered in a moment of need, were a timely reminder of the power of spending time in the landscape, immersed in the creative process, on our quest to find presence and experience this existence fully.
I have learned firsthand through my journey that the spirit of place is the greatest catalyst for inner and outer transformation. When we cross the threshold into the world of Nature, we reconnect with our true spiritual nature in an act of sacred remembrance. Every step along these ancient pathways, therefore, is an invitation to awaken to the beauty of this wondrous existence, find presence, and strike a resonance with Nature.