My phone chirped on my desk — the perfect excuse to take my eyes off the big monitors and look at a smaller one. Not the best tradeoff, but this time it was worth it. The text was an invite to fish the upper Columbia River. Believe it or not, being a photographer isn’t all travel and beach shoots with models, aka “fish.”
It’s mostly screen time, editing images and footage until your eyes blur. So, I jumped at the chance to leave the screens and my BYGFLY project that I’d been spending way to much time on for a few days to chase fish and capture some fresh images.
The upper Columbia has been on my list for years, and this was my chance to finally fish Jack Mitchell’s Black Bear Lodge. I’ve known Jack for a long time, and I’d be going with great clients and some new friends. It sounded perfect.
But as with every summer now, wildfires had other plans.
Fires had been raging in the area. It looked like we’d be able to fish, but the air quality would be bad. On the drive up, I kept thinking of a friend who has a cabin just miles from the fire, silently crossing my fingers for her and her place.
Fires had been raging in the area. It looked like we’d be able to fish, but the air quality would be bad.
As a photographer, I couldn’t help but see the other side of it, the smoke would create some powerful opportunities to make images. I wrestled with the idea: finding beauty in the same conditions that bring others fear, loss, and hardship. I resolve that we all have different purposes and interactions to situations, mine is to capture images and tell stories.
When I photograph landscapes, especially along the PNW coast, I love when fog rolls in and softens everything — it filters the light and strips away distractions. Smoke creates something similar. It turns chaotic scenes into simple, strong compositions. I leaned into that concept for three days, letting the atmosphere influence the images I captured.
When it was time to pile into the trucks for the seven-hour drive home, I felt grateful for the photos, the fish, and the company. Time on the water with a camera and a fly rod always recharges me. It makes it a little easier to sit back down in front of the screens and dive into the editing grind.
Contributed By
Ed Sozinho
I have held a fly rod and bodkin in my hand from the age of 9. I love everything about fly fishing, particularly the constant ability to learn new waters and tying techniques. While pursuing a career as an architect I picked up the camera to start recording the built environment. That changed everything, I left drafting boards and T-squares behind to pursue photography as a full-time professional over the last 20 years. When I’m on the water I’m pursuing both passions and this always presents challenges, either discovering what the fish are feeding on and adjusting my system, or constantly looking for compositions and new ways of seeing the sport I love.
