Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
We were on our way out of the park, with the heavy, dark skies of an approaching winter storm chasing us down the road.
Just a few miles outside of Mammoth Hot Springs, the trip seemed to be drawing to a close. But Yellowstone always has a way of offering one last parting gift if you keep your eyes on the treeline. Against the muted canvas of the brush, two distinct, pointed ears broke the horizon from the roadside. A lone coyote.
The weather window was closing fast. Knowing how quickly light drops when a storm rolls over the ridges, I hopped out of the passenger side with my 600mm lens while my wife went to find a safe spot to pull the car over. I walked quickly down the shoulder, tracking the animal's movement to line up a clean angle away from the asphalt.
When you are shooting handheld with a 600mm focal length, every breath counts. Without a tripod nearby, I dropped to the ground, sat right on the edge of the road, and braced the heavy lens directly on my knee to stabilize the shot.
The coyote paused, turned its head, and looked directly through the glass. In that split second, the shutter clicked. The sharp, intelligent focus of its eyes against the raw, cold landscape captured everything I love about winter in the West.
We were on our way out of the park, with the heavy, dark skies of an approaching winter storm chasing us down the road.
Just a few miles outside of Mammoth Hot Springs, the trip seemed to be drawing to a close. But Yellowstone always has a way of offering one last parting gift if you keep your eyes on the treeline. Against the muted canvas of the brush, two distinct, pointed ears broke the horizon from the roadside. A lone coyote.
The weather window was closing fast. Knowing how quickly light drops when a storm rolls over the ridges, I hopped out of the passenger side with my 600mm lens while my wife went to find a safe spot to pull the car over. I walked quickly down the shoulder, tracking the animal's movement to line up a clean angle away from the asphalt.
When you are shooting handheld with a 600mm focal length, every breath counts. Without a tripod nearby, I dropped to the ground, sat right on the edge of the road, and braced the heavy lens directly on my knee to stabilize the shot.
The coyote paused, turned its head, and looked directly through the glass. In that split second, the shutter clicked. The sharp, intelligent focus of its eyes against the raw, cold landscape captured everything I love about winter in the West.