My 5 Favorite Photographs of 2023
2023 In Review
By Sam Bugas - December 2023
Depending on when you read this, we may be about to close the book on 2023. Whether through the holidays or through your own recognition of the passing of another year, it’s an ideal time to let your thoughts and feelings flow. I believe that in all aspects of life, some introspection, some self-critique, some self-affirmation and recognition, and an overall consideration of where you went and what you did is worth the effort it takes to dig through 12 months of memories.
2023 was good to me, and I feel enormously grateful for the moments I spent with people I love, often in places I never knew I’d see. Not to mention I was fortunate enough to marry the love of my life. It has been my most successful year of growth in photography as well. In fact, I aim to use this year as the launchpad for a more serious mindset around photography moving forward. I would like to use photography professionally in 2024 in ways I will begin to reveal soon! For the last several days of 2023, though, I am spending time looking back and savoring some of the better moments. As a part of this process, I am also going to choose my five favorite photos from 2023! This was not an easy process (and I will sneak in a few extras that nearly made it at the bottom of this post). Please note, these are not in order of favorite!
The Wanderer
This photograph of a lone individual on the cliffs of Kalsoy in the Faroe Islands, quickly became one of my favorite photos of the year. In many ways, it epitomizes my favorite photographic subject; the interaction between life and landscape. I am not a methodical photographer, and that is the truth because, quite frankly, I don’t like sitting still. I like watching storms while climbing hills and fending off chill and numbness. I enjoy moving, reacting, and adjusting quickly to an evolving scene. Here, unsure of what my composition would be or who would come into the frame to make it work, I took advantage of a short break in the passing storm. Slowly climbing down the mud-slicked hillside of a bowl-shaped ridge (a consequential fall on either side of the ridge), the wanderer came into frame. They stopped for a short moment to take in the scene just the same as I was. For a moment, I felt as though I were looking at a version of myself, entranced by scale, senses, and the intensity of being alive. Every time I look at this photo, now, I can feel the scene in a vividly personal way.
The Flow of Arctic Gold
My wife, Emily, and I had arrived in Iceland the day before. We were only a couple of days removed from our wedding and all the chaos that led up to it. The plan was to spend two days in Reykjavik relaxing, savoring the recently rewarded quiet of post-wedding euphoria. Instead, we felt antsy, quickly deciding to rent a car to spend the next day driving along the South Coast. I had heard of a waterfall, and seen photos, that seemed particularly fascinating, and so we set off to find it. Part of the reason this photo stands up as one of my five favorites this year is because it clearly and completely epitomizes us; we tend to plan little, remain in motion with little patience for rest, and we often find ourselves in the right place at the right time by allowing ourselves to refrain from creating expectations. On this day, we found the waterfall at the right time such that the sun was shining through the sliver of available space on the horizon. Low and warm from the impending winter, the light was golden, seemingly liquid in the way it poured over the scene, coating the cliff walls, the moss, and mixing with the water. In the end, it was a scene of true arctic gold, flowing from above, and all the way out to the sea. This photo was made using an exhaustive panorama technique that involved me holding an incorrectly sized polarizer in front of my lens while taking 38 photos that would later be combined to produce the full frame. Once everything came together, cave and cliff walls seemed to swirl out into the distance, bisected only by the falling water and trailing stream.
Chasing the Solar Winds
I’ve had a hard time ever seeing the Northern Lights as more than a concept. They are fleeting, elusive, and often remote. Twice my wife and I have tried to see them, and both times it didn’t happen. On this occasion, only a few hours after finding the waterfall above, we found ourselves on the distant shore of the Reykjanes Peninsula. The plan was to wait out the night. We would spend as long as we could, knowing that we had a flight the next morning, waiting to see if the glow would show. Conditions were less than ideal with only a 2% chance to see lights overhead. We tracked each metric closely, and aside from a truly dark and clear night, the predicting metrics told a story of another long night under a dark and beautiful sky, devoid of any glow. However, Aurora plays by few rules, and their fickle nature granted us 45 of the most mind numbing minutes of our lives. Only a couple of hours after sun had set, we noticed what we thought was a layer of clouds on the horizon. They seemed to vibrate, but being as far away as they were, we couldn’t make out color or detail. Over the next 40 minutes, the band of energy on the horizon would lift until it was directly overhead. In an instant the whole arc popped, releasing tendrils of aurora in all directions. The sky was filled with the solar winds, dancing with such energy and life that the earth glowed bright enough to see without headlamps. We laughed, we cried, we lay in transfixed silence, and we will never forget our time chasing the solar winds.
Fire in Ha Giang
For many years, the mysterious allure of Vietnam had captured my attention. I rarely saw many photos outside of the tropical south or the sprawling cities (not to say they are typical, or boring cities by any stretch), and it was long a goal to put together some kind of adventure there. When it came time to figure out where we would journey, the far north became inescapably magnetic; a place of intense and rich history, remoteness, remarkable scale, and exotic beauty. I could continue waxing poetically about this part of the world far longer than anyone would care to read. Instead, whenever I want to show what it was truly like to enjoy this place, I show this photo. It was immediately one of my favorite photos I’ve ever taken the moment it was taken, and it remains so. Moreover, the warmth it exudes through the sunlit trees, the rolling hills, the isolated giant tree on the hill watching over the expansive horizon, it all serves to take me somewhere I can only hope to someday return. This moment, warmed by the fire in Ha Giang, the unrelenting sun, weaving in and out of the karst mountains, I felt a level of bliss possibly nowhere else has ever built in me.
Mountains and Monsters
My fifth, and final, favorite photo of 2023 earned its place for different reasons than the previous four. This photo came from a goodbye. I spent a long day in the North Cascades shortly before we were set to move back to Portland, a move that is set to precede a much more significant move taking place in 2024. The feeling on this day felt oddly somber. I wasn't ready to leave these mountains. In fact I never will be, and ultimately I believe their gravity will draw me back. This day, though, a return was likely years away, and I revelled in the sense of being amongst familiar giants. They bite at the sky like monsters, always clashing, shaking under the weight of avalanches, vibrating as water courses through their rocky veins. The Cascades are a very special range of mountains, and this photo helps me remember them when I’m wondering at what point I’ll be able to see them again.
Many Great Memories
The truth is that there are many photos I could have easily chosen. Going through this post, I found it challenging to decide what was technically strong, what was emotionally compelling, and what grabs me personally. The slideshow below contains quite a few more that I easily could have chosen!
Closing Thoughts
2023 was easily the most profound year I’ve had in regards to travel, photography, personal growth, and so much more. Going through and choosing which photos compel me helped me realize that my eye has changed, and my passion has as well. I crave shooting more than I ever have, but my focus has become far more clear. I love the tranquility found in adventure, travel, and pure landscapes. I definitely look for the interactions between landscape and life, but I also look for the life inherently existing in the landscape. I’ve never been more drawn to light, flowing water, wind blown foliage, and the broader feeling of energy and life in a place and moment. In 2024, I’ll be looking to grow in my ability to create compelling art, but more so I’ll be focused on telling better stories. Thank you for reading, following, and supporting in any and all ways that you have throughout the year!
About Me:
I have shot photos for nearly five years, with a consistent focus on capturing moments of action and environment while I am outside. I’ve dabbled in quite a few different genres of photography, and I’ve found that my favorite moments to take a photo are when the wind is whipping, the air is freezing, and I’m far away from home. Over the last year, I’ve come to the realization that taking photos and telling stories are two very different things. My goal is to become a story teller that can work in the worst environments and come away with compelling sets of photos and written stories that help me, and others, to relive the essence of an adventure. I am focused on continuing to grow as a visual story teller so that I may someday leverage my skills to successfully work within conservation and expedition photography.
Lastly, if you are a climber, backpacker, photographer, scuba diver or whatever else in the broader Washington/Oregon area, let’s get after it! I’d love to start some group journeys!