The humble photographer – Boring? Or brave?

OK, I admit it; I am jealous of photographers who can travel to majestic, exotic, and breathtakingly beautiful places all over the world to capture amazing images — Mount Killimanjero, Victoria Falls, the Great Bear Rainforest, New York City. I don’t travel all that well now; I cannot justify the expense given other priorities; I am not in great physical condition, though thankfully, I am able to apprecite the simple local scenes which give me great pleasure in-camera and afterwards in galleries on my Smugmug site.

I suspect many find some of my images boring. Sometimes viewers say so. “Nothing there” some say, sometimes. That is of course their right; thankfully, I do not need to sell images to pay the bills. Photography is just fun for me, and I remain grateful that I have camera gear and well matched post-processing software to satisfy many of my creative ambitions.

I heard somewhere that Canadian photographer Freeman Patterson found most of his subjects less than 2km from his Shampers Bluff New Brunswick home. We don’t all need to travel; sure cuts down on time and expenses. According to Adam Matthews there is such a genre as “humble photography.” Humble photograpy seeks not the sensational but prizes the accessible – the hedge along the back fence; dogs playing at the park; a weeping willow tree I pass by every day.

Hallelujah, at last, I have been discovered, one of a quiet few photographers who seek not, or cannot access the Grand Canyons, two sets of polar ice, or the Galapigos Islands.

I will quote his article below though interspece some of my own humble creations. See what you think. Yawn . . . or fawn. You decide.

What Is Humble Photography, and How Can It Change the Way You Shoot?
by Adam Matthews September 16, 2025

Not every meaningful photograph comes from epic adventures. Humble photography shows that beauty, expression, and discovery are possible wherever you are and whoever you are—at a pace that fits your life.

Rethinking Epic

Modern landscape photography culture often idolizes the epic: far-off trips to places like Lofoten, dramatic vistas, bucket-list destinations like Antarctica. “Epic” might be the most-used word to describe a photographic scene in YouTube videos. And social media amplifies this culture, rewarding spectacular and “once-in-a-lifetime” images featuring the most idealized conditions. But photography doesn’t have to be epic to matter. There’s real value in something humbler.

What Humble Photography Looks Like

What I call humble photography is about going out with a camera, noticing whatever might be catching your attention, and making photos that reflect what matters to you in that moment. Sometimes that means capturing something dramatic. Other times, it’s seeing how fog drifts across your nondescript street or how light transforms a familiar corner you pass every day. The subject doesn’t need to be “big” for the photograph to matter. Arguably, the value lies in the attention you give the scene, not its scale.

Humble photography also fits anyone’s capabilities. You don’t need the ability or fitness level to go on multi-day hikes or summit local mountains for sunrise. Maybe you photograph from your car instead, or just a few steps away from it. Maybe you walk slowly through town, taking breaks to rest as needed and stopping whenever something catches your eye. The point is that the pace is yours, and the experience accessible because it is defined by who you are, not what social media considers amazing. And the photos are just as meaningful, as they will echo the idea of wabi-sabi: finding beauty in imperfection, impermanence, and the ordinary.

One of the easiest ways to embrace this mindset is to stay local. Working near home lets you see how places change with seasons, weather, and light. You can revisit familiar spots, explore them in depth, and notice details you might otherwise miss. Maybe you live near an epic spot, but in all likelihood you’re like me and you don’t. Shooting local, then, can invite you to practice the ease and letting go of humble photography.

I was reminded of this on my recent two-week trip to Rhode Island and Cape Cod. It was rewarding to photograph the coastlines and towns, but most of my photography was quiet, humble, nestled into the rhythm of our family sightseeing. And by the end of the trip, I was ready to return home. I wanted to revisit my local haunts, see how they looked now, and continue that ongoing conversation with them through my photos. In many ways, both of these feelings illustrate the heart of humble photography: noticing and appreciating what’s right in front of you, regardless of where you are or how you get there.

Humble photography is open to everyone. You don’t need weeks off, a huge budget, or perfect health to make it work. All you need is a willingness to look, notice, and capture what you see. By removing the barriers of epic travel or extreme physical demands, humble photography democratizes the practice, making meaningful engagement possible for a much wider range of people.

There’s also a deeper value that can come out of it, especially when practiced locally. Returning to the same places over time doesn’t just show how they change—it shows how you change. Your photos are the mirror for your evolving vision, highlighting what draws your eye now versus previous times. Focusing on attention, reflection, and personal engagement reinforces that the worth of a photograph comes from your perception and expression, not the grandeur of the scene.

Humble photography isn’t a consolation prize. It’s a meaningful way to grow as a photographer, to explore the world and yourself in ways that aren’t tied to epic landscapes or faraway destinations. For all the allure of the epic, there’s enduring value in the humble.

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