The earth is a beautiful, vast, crazy, wonderful place full of the most incredible landscapes. Whether its rolling hills or intense mountain ranges; calm lakes or crashing ocean waves; deep forests or volcanoes - share your best photos of the world’s terrain.
I was outside shooting the famous -almost cliche- postcard shot of the three pillars at monument valley but wasn't happy with the photos as they looked like every other photo I've ever seen of the spot. So I decided to take a water break and hide from the sun in the gift shop and found this nice frame. Kind of ironic that I was physically surrounded by postcards & souvenirs and managed to find a perfect frame of the monument.
This picture comes from a night ride on Ring Road with my boyfriend, searching for Northern Lights, on the last day of the journey. The weather in Iceland is very unpredictable and a storm, one of many, was just about to pass over us. Due to the lack of any urban lighting, everything around was very dark and heavy. Suddenly a light flashing throughout the clouds caught our attention, and we stopped the car as close as possible to this, between the street and the sea, in an undefined corner of Vatnsnes Peninsula. Unexpectedly, the cloudy sky opened on an incredible, dramatic seascape with a lonely lighthouse flashing in green against the vast of the ocean: a moment of stillness between the calm and the upcoming tempest.
Running away from the crowded beaches of Tenerife, my friend Sergio and I decided to explore the north shore of the island. We found this natural pool known just by a few people.
A Winter Paddle
It's the time of year where 99% of Sweden's population is hibernating indoors. There's light for around 6 hours a day. On this particular morning, I found myself walking outside, away from the city and into the nearest forest. I'm not exactly sure what triggered the urge, or what made me bring my camera equipment.
My three thermals did little in the blistering cold. But I didn't really notice... A half-hour stroll had just magically transported me to a winter wonderland. Fresh powder covered every surface, stacking up several inches high.
Clearing the snow off a frozen bench, I sat down and let the drone take to the sky. I really hoped that its little mechanical heart would hold out in this weather.
Soon enough, from the stark white scene - emerged a single sign of life. Against all odds!
Slicing through the river, the water opened like curtains as the kayaker moved downstream. Silent and graceful. The 1%.
Freediving is a sport where you dive as deep as you can, for as long as you can on a single breath of air. Athletes push themselves far beyond what is considered normal, some diving to depths over 100 meters, and breath-holding for over 10 minutes. It may seem like a crazy extreme sport at first, reserved only for the suicidal adrenaline junkies, but when you look closely at a freediver beneath the surface, you may find that it is quite the opposite. Freedivers dive in a meditative state, lowering their heart rate and relaxing their body to consume the least amount of oxygen. Calmness, stillness, peace and silence, the words often used to describe this sport, of which I try to portray in this photo.
We arrived at the Chocolate Hills in the early hours of the morning in near total darkness. The only source of light from a yet to be opened ticketing booth illuminated the faint outline of the palm trees and the windy road we took up the hill to the viewpoint. This dim light also attracted a plethora of insects, including giant cockroaches, and in its attractive glow a sign was illuminated with its hand painted words stating that FLYING OF DRONE AFTER EIGHT IN THE MORNING IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED. Since we were there so early this wouldn’t be a problem.
There was yet to be any sign of the 1,776 karst hills that I saw on my Google image search before arriving here in the Philippines. Leaving the car, my partner and I were startled by the sudden laughter of local children who were riding up the hill in the darkness on their push bikes. It turned out we weren’t the only ones to get up early today to watch the sun rise over the hills. There were even more locals and other weary travelers on top of the viewing platform where we were gradually making our way up. When the sun finally made it’s ascent above the undulating horizon, it illuminated the tops of the grass coated limestone hills that blanketed the countryside. Taking to the skies provided even further depth to this complex landscape. The hills stretched out for even further than we could even comprehend.
Even with the drone at a high altitude I couldn’t make out where the multitude of hills ended or began over the horizon. In stark contrast to this natural wonder; several rice fields and farms lay interspersed in the flat arable land between the hills with the occasional feeding carabao. This brilliant view was mixed with the chorus of crickets chirping and the giggling of local teenagers, which in turn would be sporadically drowned out by the triumphant sounds of the odd rooster crowing.I would learn later on while on the drive back to our accommodation that while the hills themselves were protected, the private farm land between them was not; which explained the complicated clash between this natural wonder and human agriculture we were seeing.
Kayseri. This land is in the middle of the Anatolia. I always wanted to see wild horses and the rural life on the doorstep of 5th highest peak of Turkey called Erciyes mountain(3917).Ali dayı owner of the horses.Dayı means uncle in turkish, everybody calls him uncle.He is the boss of the ranch in his village called Hörmetçi köyü.He feed horses as well as look after them and when the photographers come over he start to show with his cowboy cap on.What he told me was there are more than 300 horses in his ranch.I was little bit nervous when the herd running out by me,the ground was moving like Earthquake, but this place was a wetland so it was so normal.It was worth to see and photograph wild horses even though im covered in mud up to my knees.To be honest i could not get enough of this rural life when i was there, so im planing to visit there again next summer.
Edge of the world.
It was one of the most beautiful mornings on our Italy photo roadtrip in April 2019, when we arrived in the fairytale land of Tuscany. The sunrise painted the sky with lovely oranges and yellows, the birds were singing and the ground was bathed in soft mist. Because the nature park was still closed to the public, we decided to drive back and to shoot the sunrise at a field of mist. At 8 am we went back to the nature park and started our independent walk directly on the avenue, surrounded by huge fascinating pine trees. There was this beautiful silence, which reminded me of a quote by Rumi: "Listen to the silence. It has so much to say." A very pleasant feeling came over me and I felt happy and free. Only a few sunrays fought their way through the dense pine trees. I have seldom had such a spectacular view. In that moment a stranger appeared in front of us and painted an amazing silhouette in this picture. I can honestly say that was one of the most impressive mornings in my life.
November 2018 on Spiekeroog. Spiekeroog belongs to the East Frisian Islands in the German North Sea. On my walk over the dike early in the morning with strong wind but beautiful sunshine I waited for such a motive. One person (in this case with their dog) on the morning walk. What for this person probably belongs to everyday life, could not be possible in a few years. The North Sea is rising. The coasts crumble, the sea washes away the sand. Depending on the scenario and model calculation, the global rise in sea level will amount to almost one metre by the end of the century.
The erosion of sandy beaches is first of all a natural process, but climate change in conjunction with the melting polar ice caps and the increase in storm events is accelerating this trend significantly. In many places, the beaches of the East Frisian Islands can only be maintained with great effort and high costs.
November 2018 on Spiekeroog. A small island in the North Sea with problems to be found all over the world. But hopefully it's not too late yet.