Some people love to take their vacations in summer, but autumn has always been my season. The cool air, the quiet, and the soft golden light always make me feel most at home. So when I saw that Carl Heilman was offering a fall photography workshop in the Adirondacks, I knew it was exactly what I needed.
I arrived at Elk Lake Lodge, a beautiful retreat surrounded by the Adirondack High Peaks. Even though the trees were just past peak, the landscape still glowed with warm color. Before the workshop began, I decided to take a day just for myself—to step away from the busyness of work and photography and simply recharge in nature.
The lodge staff packed a lunch for my solo adventure, and locals suggested I try Sunrise Mountain for a view of Elk Lake below. They said the first lookout would be a good goal for the day. It sounded perfect.
The trail started out easy, winding through the forest. It was quiet—no people, no sounds except my footsteps on the leaves and the occasional flurry of birds taking off as I neared. Though I had a trail map, it didn’t give me a true sense of how steep or long the climb would be. With no one else around, I had to rely on myself to keep going, not knowing exactly what lay ahead.
As the path grew steeper, I found myself taking more breaks—sometimes to catch my breath, sometimes just to gather my resolve. I kept telling myself, the lookout must be just around the next bend. It seemed like I repeated that phrase often, and would forge on. After a few hours of climbing, I finally reached it.
When I finally arrived—almost three hours later—I was shaky, tired, and exhilarated all at once. The wide expanse of rock sloped slightly toward the valley, so I stayed close to a sturdy tree, leaning into its steadiness as I took in the view. Below me, Elk Lake shimmered in the sunlight, ringed by the quiet majesty of the peaks. I ate my lunch there, surrounded by silence and that deep, satisfying sense of accomplishment that comes only from doing something hard—alone—and realizing you could.
A couple of days later, during a group hike with the other photographers, Carl pointed across the valley to a ridge. “That’s Sunrise Mountain,” he said. “You hiked up to that lookout.” I was stunned. From where we stood, it looked so far away, so high up. I never would have guessed that was the same place I’d been standing on just days earlier. Seeing it from that distance filled me with awe all over again—proof of just how far determination can take you, even when you can’t see the full path ahead.
That feeling has stayed with me. It reminded me of this past year in my business—how often progress feels slow or uncertain in the moment. You take one step, then another, not always sure how close you are to where you want to be. There are moments when you stop, rest, and wonder if you’re headed the right way. But then, you look back and realize just how much ground you’ve covered.
This year has brought both challenges and rewards. I’ve been learning to express my passion for what I do—to help clients not just capture their pets, but the joy, love, and calm they bring to our lives. I’ve met people whose stories have reaffirmed why I started this journey in the first place. There have also been hard lessons—times when communication faltered or things didn’t unfold as I hoped—but each experience has strengthened my voice, my vision, and my resolve.
Standing on that mountain reminded me that even when the trail feels steep, I’m still moving forward. And when I finally pause to look back, I can see that every step—every effort, every challenge—has shaped the view I stand in now.
More on my trip to come, but I will leave you with a little sneak peak of images:
