Excerpted from The Canadian Rockies: Rediscovered by Paul Zizka. Copyright ©2025 Paul Zizka and Rocky Mountain Books. Published by Rocky Mountain books. Reproduced by arrangement with the Publisher. All rights reserved.

The collection you hold today is the product of change – within the photography industry and with technology, as well as in my own approach to the craft. Many images in the collection represent direct examples of those changes. Here is how my approach to outdoor photography has changed: 

The Human Element

Perhaps the most significant shift in my photography since my previous book, Summits & Starlight, has been the addition of the human element to my images. I have been – and remain – fascinated by how much one can convey through the interplay of people and wilderness. I started off using human figures primarily to solve compositional issues and to redistribute visual interest within the frame. But now I find that including a person in a landscape image can also add a dimension of vulnerability, convey a sense of belonging, provide an idea of scale or make the image much more relatable. I am usually alone when I shoot landscapes, so when I want to experiment with a person in my images I am left with no option but to enter the frame myself (hence the self-portraits). It has never mattered to me who appears in the photograph. In fact, in most of the images that include people, it is impossible to tell who the person is. 

Pre-Visualization

The way I dream up my images has also changed. In Summits & Starlight, I wrote, “a limited amount of planning goes into my photographs. I may head to a location at a time when I feel conditions will make for fine images, but everything else is decided on the spot. You will never hear me say, ‘this shot has been six months in the making, waiting for the right conditions to come together.’ Most of the time I just work with what I’m given.” 

Well, never say never. While I still rely on that flexible approach, in recent years I have been working to craft images that require quite a lot of planning and a good deal of patience. I’ve found that previsualization can tap into a very different part of the creative process and can be a most rewarding way to make photographs. For me, that process often starts in the field, while shooting. I have developed a habit of pausing and thinking about how to optimize the photographic potential of a location. As I go about my work, my mind wanders to questions like: Is there a more favourable time of day or night or year I could return to this location? Is there a vantage point that would improve composition? Would that improved scene benefit from adding the human element? If so, who should that be, and what should they be doing? Essentially, I dream up an image I’m excited about, that I feel ups the ante at that location. 

Thoughts on Discomfort

Looking through my final image selections for this book, another change in my approach that became obvious was an increased willingness to go through discomfort to make an image happen. The more I shoot, the more I realize that some amount of temporary pain is often the key to stronger images – that extra step in a lake, another trip uphill, a lost hour of sleep, that swim to a little island with water seeping in my waders. In the past, I know I’ve occasionally passed up the opportunity to take an image to the next level because I wouldn’t even consider putting in the work. With time, I’ve gotten better at taking the time to assess whether or not an image would be worth getting wed, cold or sweaty for a few minutes. Often the discomfort leads to nothing. Suffering is no guarantee of a stronger image. But, occasionally, I think going the extra mile was worth it to get an image that is memorable for me. 

Field Time

Regardless of one’s approach, there’s a mathematical reality in photography: the more time you spend out there, the more likely you are to get lucky at some point. Between family life, social media demands and the realities of running a photo business, it’s easy to see the creative field time dwindle to nearly nothing. I have had to be more selective about when I do go out, and have had to be very intentional about  setting aside that creative time on a regular basis. All in all, I have spent a considerable amount of time exploring the mountains over the last few years, and simply because of that, I ended up with the odd serendipitous image.