Colibri
“Colibrí”
This past July I was fortunate enough to spend 11 days trekking the Huayhuash Circuit in Peru. For years visiting the Huayhuash had occupied a spot near the top of of things to experience at least once in my lifetime. The journey produced far too many stories to share in a short post like this so I’m (slowly) putting together a blog post. I have released ten new images from the Huayhuash trek on my website (www.michaelbollino.com/new-releases/) for those who care to see a sneak peak.
This particular image is from the second to last day of the trek and marks a particularly memorable moment. The day’s route climbed to a 16,000 foot pass and then remained high as it meandered along a long ridge. The ridge was continually swept by high winds which pushed and pulled the swirling clouds seen here over Jirishanca. By this point Jirishanca had easily become my favorite mountain in the Huayhuash but I had yet to capture it properly. Three condors soon appeared overhead, taking turns soaring between myself and the summit of Jirishanca then back again. I found cover from the wind behind a large boulder and began shooting. I sat there for a long while taking everything in. The scene felt massive. As a person with a deep connection to the natural world, and as a photographer who enjoys recording and interpreting this connection, moments like these leave impressions which remain long after the event itself ends. This sort of pure experience has always been my primary answer to the question of “why” I go into nature and, subsequently, why I photograph the natural world. During these moments thoughts and words drop away, become meaningless (perhaps burdensome), and act only to cloud the mind and detract from the experience. Look, listen, absorb, react, shoot. These moments may last for a few minutes or much longer, as it did on this day. Then, in an instant, the spell is broken, the absorption ends, and the only thing left to do is to move on your way, grateful for the experience. To me this is what exploring nature is all about.
About the title: Jiri is the word for hummingbird in the Quechuan language. Colibri is the word hummingbird in spanish.
Colibri
“Colibrí”
This past July I was fortunate enough to spend 11 days trekking the Huayhuash Circuit in Peru. For years visiting the Huayhuash had occupied a spot near the top of of things to experience at least once in my lifetime. The journey produced far too many stories to share in a short post like this so I’m (slowly) putting together a blog post. I have released ten new images from the Huayhuash trek on my website (www.michaelbollino.com/new-releases/) for those who care to see a sneak peak.
This particular image is from the second to last day of the trek and marks a particularly memorable moment. The day’s route climbed to a 16,000 foot pass and then remained high as it meandered along a long ridge. The ridge was continually swept by high winds which pushed and pulled the swirling clouds seen here over Jirishanca. By this point Jirishanca had easily become my favorite mountain in the Huayhuash but I had yet to capture it properly. Three condors soon appeared overhead, taking turns soaring between myself and the summit of Jirishanca then back again. I found cover from the wind behind a large boulder and began shooting. I sat there for a long while taking everything in. The scene felt massive. As a person with a deep connection to the natural world, and as a photographer who enjoys recording and interpreting this connection, moments like these leave impressions which remain long after the event itself ends. This sort of pure experience has always been my primary answer to the question of “why” I go into nature and, subsequently, why I photograph the natural world. During these moments thoughts and words drop away, become meaningless (perhaps burdensome), and act only to cloud the mind and detract from the experience. Look, listen, absorb, react, shoot. These moments may last for a few minutes or much longer, as it did on this day. Then, in an instant, the spell is broken, the absorption ends, and the only thing left to do is to move on your way, grateful for the experience. To me this is what exploring nature is all about.
About the title: Jiri is the word for hummingbird in the Quechuan language. Colibri is the word hummingbird in spanish.