Snagging that perfect gap between steel beams on a bridge after the last 10 shots were nothing but blurred metal.
Wandering through red rock canyonlands on a morning hike, so hot even before sunrise, and stumbling across an unexplained but gorgeous little stream.
Driving through mile after mile of stark desert scrub and then suddenly, lake.
Following trusty ol’ Google Maps on “the shortest route” in the Ozarks, only to find ourselves crawling half a mile an hour over crazy gravel back roads, kicking up beehives and wrecking the tires. Going through a town where not a single person could be seen from beginning to end, and another where the entire place seemed to be convening at the post office after hours. Past a couple in a golf cart who, by the looks on their faces, had never seen a California license plate before, and a few others who looked like they’d never like to see one again. Sneaking around a blind corner and suddenly facing a ford – and being eternally grateful that it was summer and the river was low enough to drive through, because otherwise you’d have to double back…
Being woken by a chorus of tree frogs before sunrise, creeping out of bed long before you’d planned to wake, and being rewarded with fishermen on the river and misty morning magic.