Forest Photography Is Still My Nemesis (But I’m Getting Better)

Let’s get this out of the way: I kinda suck at forest photography.

There, I said it.

Give me an open desert, a clean mountain backdrop, or a rocky coastline with dramatic light, and I feel like I know what I’m doing. But throw me into a dense forest with tangled branches, dappled light, and a million shades of green, and suddenly I’m standing there like it’s my first day holding a camera.

A golden sunset lights up Cathedral Rock in Sedona, Arizona, captured in this fine art desert landscape print by Riley Clark. Available in multiple formats.

For years, forest photography has been my creative nemesis. It’s chaotic. It’s cluttered. It’s moody in ways that are hard to control. And compared to the wide-open simplicity of the Southwest landscapes I grew up photographing, it can feel like an entirely different planet.

But over time—and through a lot of failed attempts—I’ve started to figure it out.

One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned? You have to slow down. Forests don’t give you big, bold compositions on a silver platter. You have to hunt for them. Look for light, find flow, and simplify as much as you possibly can. And then simplify some more.

Another hard truth? Sometimes the forest wins. Sometimes the light never shows. Sometimes your carefully framed shot turns into a chaotic mess when you get it home. And sometimes, that’s okay. Learning to let go of the outcome and focus on the experience has helped me enjoy these spaces a lot more.

Towering redwood trees stretch skyward in a misty forest scene, captured in soft light. Fine art forest landscape photography by Riley Clark.

The cool part is, when I look at some of my newer pieces—like Looking for Luck, Enchanted Passage, and Ancient Giants—I can see the growth. I’m starting to find rhythm in the chaos. I’m learning how to follow the light, separate the subjects, and let the forest breathe in my compositions.

But don’t get me wrong—I’m still very much a work in progress. Every time I step into the woods with my camera, it’s a humbling reminder that photography is an ongoing conversation with the landscape. And sometimes the forest just isn’t ready to talk.

Still, I’m proud of the progress. Those newer pieces represent not just forest scenes, but personal breakthroughs. Proof that even when something feels wildly out of your comfort zone, growth is possible—as long as you keep showing up.

If you want to check out more of my latest forest-focused work, you can view the full collection at rileyclarkfineart.com. Just don’t expect me to stop complaining about trees anytime soon.