I sit in my tiny backyard, surrounded by potted plants, shrubs and small trees. Birds flit in to feed and to bathe. The fountain trickles in the corner of our garden, beckoning small birds to drink from its cascade, and hummingbirds to bathe in its moving waters. I am surrounded by nature's beauty in this small, walled-in space. Yet how many photographs have I made in this place? Last count, about five. Five photographs in the 5 years I have lived here! I'm embarrassed. It shows my wanderlust, my underlying human belief that it is always more beautiful and exciting somewhere else. So this year, I will give myself a challenge: to make pictures every month of my small oasis of nature amongst the townhouses.

This dilemma is not uncommon. How often do we really look at our own backyards and see anything exciting? In an online class I am currently teaching, one student commented, "Your photos that come with the lesson plan are all so beautiful, and they make me want to travel there or return to places I have loved. But what about using pictures that are subjects we'd find everyday in our own towns, our own 'backyards?" It was a travel photography class, but she had a point. All these pictures to 'wow' the students, to show my adventures, yet could they connect with them?

Fortunately, most of us can connect with pictures of far-flung beauty, even if we have not been there, but only if the photographer has succeeded in expressing his/her feelings, their impression, of the place or subject. So this is our collective challenge, to create images that express our love of nature, our wonder and awe of the things we see, and to share that as best as we can through our photographs. The creativity is up to us, and it comes from within, how we view our outside world. Once we recognize that, we can use all the tools and techniques possible to recreate the magic of what we experience! Now, how to translate what we've experienced and seen onto film:

First, ask yourself what it is you are trying to 'say' or show us with the photograph you are making. Is it the roundness of the pebbles on the beach? The strong pattern of butterfly wings? The soft mist rising off a cool lake? Whatever your intent, mentally or verbally declare it. When your intent is clear, the tools and techniques needed to express it on film, or chip, will fall in to place. If it is the gentle cascade of a creek, then soft light and a slow shutter speed may be appropriate. If it is the incredible 'cotton-ball' clouds above a mountain range, a wide-angle and a vertical composition just might the answer. In other words, what you choose to emphasize will determine your lens choice, your aperture and shutter speed choices, filters, depth of field, point of view, perspective and composition.

After you have breathlessly expressed how wonderful the pattern is, or how much you like the way the streams leads the eye to the waterfall, it is time to put the right brain aside a little and get in touch with the left side! You will need to apply good technique to get it all working on the film. Compose yourself, and compose your picture well. Decide what has to be in the image, and what should be left out. Simplify your composition, to make it the strongest it can be. This means getting rid of anything, I repeat anything, that does not support the star subject. How you do this is up to you and the situation at hand. My choice is usually to move in closer, but you cannot always do that, so zooming your lens or using a longer focal length might be the answer. If a small branch is interfering with the overall composition use your Plamp®9 or other clamping device to move it out of the way temporarily. Do a little 'gardening' without harming any plants. You are responsible for everything in your frame, so be ruthless about what gets to stay and what goes. Do not let the overwhelming beauty of your subject put a spell on you. Look very closely at what you are going to end up with on the film. Use the mantra, "Less is more."

Most of us come to photography from many other walks of life, and have not taken any formal art classes. We have been surrounded by Nature's Grand Design, but do we use those design elements to enhance our pictures?

Line, form, shape, pattern, and texture - these are the elements that exist in nature. Some of them make great subjects themselves; others help to define the spaces of your photograph. Let's take a look at just a few of them from the point of view of the emotion that they express:

Lines have the effect of leading you, the viewer, in, around and through the frame. Lines are so strong an element that you should take special care with them. Horizontal lines express a calmer, more static feeling than other lines. If the line is a flat, horizontal line, the picture may well have a calm, pastoral feeling to it, but it could also end up being a little too static and boring, unless the line undulates gently, such as rolling hills. It helps to place a horizon line in the upper or lower third of the frame to give the image a bit more visual asymmetry - unless of course you want a symmetrical effect! Picture the horizontal lines of a field of multicolored flowers, or the bands of reeds in a pond. Imagine the flat line between ocean and sky, or the band of dark trees that lie at the base of a mountain. These are all horizontal lines.

Vertical lines have more energy than horizontal ones. It is as if they defy gravity, standing upright. Think of trees, straight waterfalls, and blades of grass or flower stalks. There is a bit more tension in a vertical line, an expression of strength or height. Yet, they too, can be static if they are too centrally placed in your frame, dividing the picture in two by visually slicing through it.

Diagonal lines contain the most expression of energy. It is as if they are caught in the act of falling over, or of rising. They possess more visual tension, more direction, than other lines. These can make your picture very dynamic. When and where it makes sense, you can creatively add a bit more visual interest by tilting the cameras slightly to make a vertical line more diagonal - for example, a flower stalk. Moving your position to create a more oblique angle on a waterfall can add more energy to the image. It only takes a little bit for the energy of a diagonal line to work its magic.

Of course, there are other variations of lines - zigzags, which are full of zippy energy with their diagonals joined together, and s-curves, which lazily meander through your scene. Use what lines you can in your composition to create a visual pathway for us, or to emphasize your subject.

Patterns are so prevalent in nature! They are in the design of a flower blossom, in the bark of a tree, in a spring meadow. Pattern itself is worthy of photographing, whereas a line is more a useful tool to help organize our composition. Pattern is Nature's attempt at organizing the randomness of itself. But, for pattern to be recognized, there must be more than three or four repetitions of shapes, colors, forms, etc. Two or three does not make for a strong pattern at all, just a grouping. The goal with photographing pattern, in my opinion, should be to celebrate its random structure. Consider the repetition of agave leaves, or a sky filled with 'cotton balls', as I like to call them! Pattern is strongest when it extends outside the frame, making us think that it continues. Our mind's eye creates that expansion, giving the pattern even more strength.

When pattern has enough room to establish itself in your composition, it can sometimes create a visual echoing, and a rhythm is established. This happens whenever a pattern becomes smaller in the distance, and the repetitions appear closer together. The repetition of rolling sand dunes, or a boat wake, or vineyards, can all become rhythmic. As in music, though, you do not get the rhythm from just 1 or two downbeats. You usually need more time to pick up on the rhythm. So it is with photography - you need 'time', or visual space, for the rhythm to develop.

Texture is the tactile quality of an object. Picture rough sandstone, weathered wood, or alpaca wool. You can 'feel' the texture of each in your mind. How can you photograph them so they say 'rough', 'smooth', or 'soft in the photograph?' For rougher textures, you need strong sidelight to skim the ridges and valleys of the object's surface. That object may be small or large; you can photograph the rough texture of sandstone just as easily as the texture of the earth. You just need sidelight to do it - and a different point of view. The softness of grasses or an animal's fur is best photographed with diffuse light, to keep the contrast more even, which visually expresses the softness.

Yet, you can also suggest the softness of grasses with backlight, so it is really about looking at your subject and deciding what light would be best to express the texture of it. There are no steadfast rules in photography, only what works for your subject, your vision. And what about implied textures? I cannot touch an entire hillside of trees, and if I could, they would be rough to the touch, but I can make them look very soft and tapestry-like, with diffuse light, as seen here in my image of Boulder Mountain's bare aspen trees. I can make a desert landscape look very rough and bumpy with low-angled sunlight.

We see so much in our three-dimensional view of the world. We see the size differences between foreground and background objects; we see the highlight to shadow gradation that gives objects form; but when we capture an image on the two dimensions of film, that three-dimensional quality can be lost - unless we have made good use of perspective. This is so important in giving our landscapes depth, and making dynamic compositions. The goal is to create an invitation to the viewer, to step into the scene and travel its depth, its distance. A tried and true formula for this is to place an object close in the foreground, and relate it to the background somehow. This is great, but you need interesting objects in both areas for that to work!

When you look at your scene, walk around and view it from all positions that work with the light you have. Find a way to create a stepping-stone in to the scene. It may be a leading line, such as a trail, a stream, a fallen log; it may be a large flowering shrub or a boulder with interesting lichen on it. Beyond that, there has to be something interesting enough to lead the viewer deeper into the scene, to arrive at the background. A friend of mine, who is a professional photographer, considers that good landscapes are like good books: they have a strong beginning, a good middle, and a great ending! Think about using your wide-angle lenses more effectively. Get in close to your foreground, to exaggerate its size or space in the frame.

Establish relationships with the objects in the frame. Move around to find the combination that works the best to show your vision of that landscape. Tilt your camera up or down to accentuate land or sky, depending on the story you want to tell. Get a new perspective, and you images will have increased visual impact.

These are just a few of the artistic ideas to apply while using the tools of camera, lenses, eyes and feet to make compelling nature photographs. As Ernst Haas was prone to say, "it's the photographer's creativity, and not the equipment, that ultimately makes the photograph." An intuitive feeling for good composition, an ability to see the light, and a skill at incorporating design and giving your images depth are all the essential tools of creativity. Learn these well, and you will make wonderful nature photographs.

Editor's Comment: Let us know what you think! Please email the Editor to let us know your thoughts.

Brenda Tharp is a professional nature and travel photography. Her images frequently appear in magazines, books, brochures, calendars, and greeting cards, for clients including Cedco, Chronicle, Michelin, National Geographic, Outdoor Photographer, Sierra, Sunset, and Travel Holiday. She was sole photographer for Muir Woods: Redwood Refuge and Marin Headlands: Portals of Time. Brenda has been featured in several episodes of Canon's "Photo Safari" television series. Her own book, Creative Outdoor and Nature Photography (Amphoto), was published in May 2003. She teaches annually through Maine and Santa Fe Photographic Workshops, Rocky Mountain School of Photography, and others. To learn more about Brenda, visit http://www.brendatharp.com