Chasing Light: Coastal Landscapes and Quiet Moments on Vancouver Island - June 12, 2025

As a wildlife photographer, I often head out in search of birds or small creatures—but sometimes, it's the landscape itself that takes my breath away.

Living on Vancouver Island, I’m lucky to be surrounded by a wide variety of natural backdrops: marinas wrapped in morning mist, wide-open coastal beaches painted with pastels at sunset, and quiet bays that turn golden just before the light fades. Wherever I am—whether I'm on assignment or simply wandering with my camera—I make a point to stop and take in the bigger picture.

Sunset at Island View Beach, Saanich

"The camera helps me notice—but it’s the stillness after the shutter clicks that helps me feel."

Island View Beach, Saanich

I’ve learned that the landscapes around me are just as powerful as the wildlife within them. When the sky ignites in soft pinks, bold oranges, or silvery blues, and the clouds stretch or swirl above a mirrored sea, it feels like nature is putting on a private show just for those who choose to notice.

So I always notice.

Burnaby Lake, Burnaby

"Beauty doesn’t rush. It waits for us to slow down and join it."

Neck Point Park, Nanaimo

In our busy days, it’s easy to overlook this beauty. But I’ve found that when I let myself really take it in—not just with my eyes, but with all my senses—it becomes more than just a view. It becomes a moment of peace. A quiet reset. A gift.

Sidney

"Every landscape I sit with leaves something behind—clarity, calm, perspective. Sometimes all three."

Victoria

These simple rituals—photographing, sitting, breathing—have become one of the most important parts of my mental health journey. Nature’s palette reminds me to slow down. To connect. To be fully here.

Victoria

I snap a few photos—some wide, some close, always with a heart full of gratitude. And then I sit. I breathe in the salt air. I feel the wind or the stillness. I watch how the light shifts, how the colors change minute by minute. These are the pauses that sustain me.

Each landscape I photograph is a reminder that the land around us is alive with color, emotion, and stories waiting to be witnessed.

Sometimes it’s a sky streaked with fire-orange and rose-pink as the sun begins to rise, casting a warm glow over the calm water below.

Saanich

Other times it’s a moody seascape painted in deep indigos and silvers, with clouds that curl like brushstrokes across the sky. I’ve stood in coastal places where the light feels like it's breathing—shifting from golden amber to dusty lavender in the span of minutes—and I’ve watched reflections dance across the ocean like liquid glass.

Oak Bay

These scenes feel like living paintings—compositions that change with every tide, breeze, and hour of the day. The colors are never just colors. They carry weight. Warm tones can feel like comfort, like the embrace of a familiar place. Cool tones can wash over you like silence, helping you clear your mind and feel grounded again.

And what strikes me most is how these moments affect my emotional state. If I arrive to a location feeling rushed, heavy, or distracted, all it takes is one deep breath in front of a breathtaking view to begin feeling restored. The land doesn’t just show me its beauty—it holds space for me to recalibrate.

These experiences have taught me to become more than a photographer. They've made me a witness to the emotional language of the earth—one brushstroke, one shoreline, one shifting sky at a time.

Oak Bay

Have you taken a moment to witness your local landscape lately?

Not just passed by it in a rush, or glanced at it through a window—but really stood in it, with both feet on the ground and all your senses awake? There’s something powerful that happens when we allow ourselves to pause and become present with the natural world around us. Whether it's a stretch of rocky shoreline, a city park kissed by golden light, or a quiet bay at low tide, these places have a way of reaching something deep inside us.

When you take time to look—really look—you’ll begin to notice the layers: the subtle shimmer on the water, the way a cloud breaks open just enough to let light spill through, the soft hues painted across the sky that feel almost too perfect to be real. These are nature’s quiet gifts. And they’re everywhere—waiting for us to show up.

Oak Bay

I promise—when you do, you’ll walk away feeling lighter. Not because life gets easier, but because you gave yourself a moment of presence. A moment to breathe. A moment to receive beauty without needing to earn it.

So wherever you are, I encourage you to find a patch of sky, a sliver of coastline, or a quiet corner of green. Bring your camera if you’d like—but more importantly, bring your heart.