After a night of shivering in our tents Brent and I hiked up this mountain in the dark to be ready for sunrise. It turned out to be one of those lovely muted mornings with atmospheric skies that threatened more snow to come. The morning went perfectly until I spilled my hot noodle breakfast all over the trail. Brent made me clean it up and bag it so as not to attract grizzly bears. True fans know the full story.

The Old Man Of Storr is like a rite of passage for all landscape photographers.

The hike to the top is very different to what it was when I first ventured up there decades ago. You'll rarely find yourself the only photographer up on those slopes but if you pick a moody day you might just experience that creepy solitude that I felt so long ago. Take a climb off the beaten path and you'll find some unique perspectives that are totally worth getting lost in fog.

A big part of photography is seeing the unseen.

Sometimes you can't actually see a beautiful feature of a scene until you take a long exposure like this one. By choosing a creative shutter speed I was able to reveal the wonderful spiraling patterns of the bubbles as they weaved their way downstream. After some experimentation I was able to capture this delightful long exposure that I feel does justice to this tranquil and enchanting little scene.

This canyon was one of the strangest places I've ever seen and not easy to photograph. The freezing cold snowmelt river might have made things more difficult as my hands were shaking from the cold just as much as from the excitement of capturing this special moment.

I'd also ripped my shoulder to shreds on the way down into the canyon but the temporary 'photographers high' took care of that, at least until later when the pain came home to roost.

For this glorious window in time I was ecstatically happy just to witness these conditions in this hard to reach canyon on Vancouver Island.

I'll be honest, there are times when the composition finds you. This was one such time.

I will take some small amount of credit for recognizing it but I defy anyone to walk past this arrangement of rocks both big and small and not see the most delightful composition. That lovely soft light and the flat, calm reflection were 100% worth the third degree burns from severe chaffing due to the massive hike to this lake. I would do it all over again if I had the chance.

Blue hour on the Donegal coast is a time of pure magic. Rather than quit after a nice sunset I stuck around as the clouds began to eat the sky, waves roiled up and birds went into a feeding frenzy. Sometimes all you have to do is just be there and wait.

This image was one of those ideas that presents itself entirely by accident. I'm not usually one for environmental portraits but as soon as I saw my wife Amanda holding out her hands to touch that lovely cascade I knew I'd found my shot.

Ricketts Glen is one of the most enchanting areas I've ever photographed. With so many waterfalls one after another I almost overlooked this final waterfall but something about the quality of light over the creek told me I was about to witness something special. As soon as I saw this scene unfolding before my eyes I knew I had just a couple of minutes to capture shot before the sun moved over the horizon. Luckily I found it just in time.

Donegal is a treasure trove of spectacular coastal scenery and this three hour hike to the sea stacks of the Atlantic was well worth the sweat equity. We braved fields of sheep cakes, death defying cliff edges and ankle breaking post holes to reach this majestic overlook just in time for the sun to go down over the ocean.

What do you do when a beautiful scene is crawling with humans? You wait of course.

Then you wait some more.

After waiting all afternoon I finally had my moment and managed to capture this image without a single human AND during gorgeous afternoon light.

Now if I hadn't told you this and you saw this photo you could almost call it false advertising but you've been warned.

These conditions are possible but you'll have to be patient and share the trail with several hundred other purveyors of majestic beauty.

Not many photographers are stupid enough to wade into a river at -15°C wearing just pants and hiking boots just to get a photo of an ice encrusted waterfall. Nobody ever said I wasn't stupid.

While the town of Lunenburg is very picturesque it was the foggy harbour that captured my attention. Just as I'd dialed in the ideal camera settings I noticed the ancient galley approaching from stage left and knew I'd found my shot.