And now, for something completely different. . .

Letter from the Editor

As I write these words, clouds are rising once again from the emerald flanks of the Talamanca Mountains. The breeze carries the scent of orchids and leaf litter, cool and damp, and somewhere just beyond the reach of sight, a resplendent quetzal calls—a soft, haunting whistle trailing through the cloud forest canopy like a ribbon of breath.

We are beginning the transition here in western Panama from the dry to wet season as the Intertropical Convergence Zone begins it clockwork like shift north, bringing a shift in trade winds, a belt of low pressure that will last until December, and the life giving waters that make the rainforest the rainforest. While much of the Northern Hemisphere is still shaking off the last frost, the highland forests around Boquete are alive with nesting tanagers and darting hummingbirds. I’ve come here ahead of my Cloud Forest Photography Workshop to scout locations and let the rhythm of this place settle into my bones. The forest is damp and electric with life, each step unveiling something new and strange and utterly alive.

It’s from this place, half hidden in the clouds, surrounded by the ancient pulse of Central America’s biodiversity, that I put the final touches on this Spring 2025 issue. And it feels fitting, somehow. Spring is a season of emergence, of energy coiled into buds and migratory wings and the restless stirring of mammals roused from winter’s sleep. It’s a season for photographers too, when life returns and our calendars swell with travel plans and creative pursuits.

This issue of PhotoWILD Magazine is about beginnings, but also about sharpening the edge of our craft. It’s about seeing more deeply, thinking more carefully, and adapting as both artists and naturalists.

We open with a feature that has been quietly forming in my notebooks and our Podcast for several years: The Art of Concealment. This essay takes a deep dive into camouflage, but not the usual kind printed on fabric or painted on faces. Instead, we explore how nature’s most effective predators—great gray owls, bobcats, even tigers—use stillness, movement, and light to remain undetected. More importantly, we examine how those same strategies can transform our approach to wildlife photography. If we want to get close, often we must fade into the visual noise of the landscape, and that means learning not just how to hide, but how to move. This story is part science, part fieldcraft, and 100% practical for anyone serious about photographing elusive species.

Next, we shift from field to laptop in Metadata and the Machines. Let’s face it: no one became a photographer because they love keywording and fleshing out metadata. But in the age of AI, we no longer must spend endless nights tagging images. In this piece, we take a look at how tools like ChatGPT and Pixify are revolutionizing metadata workflows, dramatically reducing the time it takes to prep images for websites, clients, and stock agencies. As someone who has uploaded tens of thousands of images to clients and libraries over the years, I can tell you that this is the kind of automation I can get behind.

From there, we take flight. Mastering Birds in Flight, Part V returns to a subject near and dear to my heart: multi-flash hummingbird photography. In this latest installment of our long-running series, I break down my exact setup: from strobe placement and softboxes to camera settings and the subtle art of coaxing just the right angle from these iridescent dynamos. This piece dives deep, but the payoff is worth it.

In keeping with our goal to serve photographers at every stage of their journey, we’re proud to introduce a brand-new column this issue called Back to the Basics. Whether you’re just getting started or simply want to revisit the foundational skills that make everything else possible, this column is designed to demystify the tools we often take for granted. In our first edition, we tackle one of the most misunderstood elements of the modern camera: Focus Modes. What do they actually do? When should you use what? And how can mastering this one concept help you create better images in the field?

From there, we cross the continent to the great Canadian prairies with a poignant article by photographer and conservationist Donna Feledichuk, PhD. Her piece, Vanishing Vistas, is both a love letter and a wake-up call, a stunning visual and narrative exploration of one of North America’s most threatened ecosystems. The grasslands of Alberta and Saskatchewan are disappearing faster than most of us realize, and with them go the longspurs, the burrowing owls, the prairie dogs, and the quiet places that still hold space for silence and sky. Donna’s work reminds us that beauty and urgency often walk hand in hand.

Our final piece in this issue circles back to natural history with the next installment of Be a Better Naturalist. In this piece, we venture into the alpine talus slopes of Alaska to meet one of my favorite little survivors: the collared pika (Ochotona collaris). These tiny, rabbit-like mammals spend their summers gathering wildflowers and leaves to build haypiles that will sustain them through the brutal northern winters. But there’s more to this than meets the eye: some of the plants they collect are toxic. Why? As it turns out, those toxins help preserve the haypiles from decay. It’s a subtle and fascinating adaptation, one of the most extraordinary examples of proactive medicinal plant uses in nature, and one more reason to pay attention to the ecological stories hidden beneath our boots.

As always, this magazine exists at the intersection of photography, ecology, and storytelling. It’s a place where we chase light not just for its beauty, but for what it reveals about species, landscapes, and ourselves.

Spring reminds us of that, doesn’t it? That sense of movement. Of the world stretching awake. Of something just beginning.

So, whether you’re setting out on your next photography trip of the season or simply dusting off your gear after a long winter, I hope this issue fuels your curiosity and fans the creative spark. I hope it makes you want to crawl into the tall grass, or hike to that far ridge, or wake before dawn to watch the marsh come alive again.

Here’s to spring, and to wild places.

— Jared Lloyd

Editor-in-Chief

PhotoWILD Magazine