Photography wasn’t part of the plan. It slipped quietly into my life somewhere between long travel days, slow mornings, and the curiosity of borrowing Michaela’s old Canon camera. One minute we were hiking through Thailand, the next minute I was the person turning a one-hour walk into a three-hour mission because the light hit a tree in a way I’d never noticed before.

But before any of that happened, I almost gave up before I’d even started.

The Drone Crash That Nearly Ended It

Having the drone for around a year now and I can say that my flying has grown with confidence. Maybe a little too confident. I thought I had the modes figured out. , active track, point of interest and having the obstacle avoidance setting on to prevent these accidents. Although when you fly your drone and the obstacle avoidance suddenly stops working, it can go wrong very quickly.

There’s a unique kind of silence that happens when you watch your drone; your pride and joy, your “I’m going to make cinematic travel films” dream, fly straight into a tree and disappear deep into the heart of a Thailand forest. 

I felt stupid. Frustrated. Extremely embarrassed.
I genuinely thought that maybe photography just wasn’t for me.  

I’d given up. I thought it was lost to the snakes and spiders. Luckily, Michaela hadn’t. 

However, life has a funny way of helping you exactly when you need it.

Meeting Raphael, Proof That Good People Still Show Up

The same day that I lost and retrieved my now broken drone, Michaela and I went to the visit the Su Tong Pie Bamboo Bridge. When we arrived I saw a guy with a drone with all 4 legs intact and thought I’d share my experience. 

The guys name was Raphael from Vienna. He was flying a drone with the confidence of someone who had clearly not just launched theirs into a tree.
He told me he had spent twenty years teaching himself photography.
He spoke about mistakes, failures, ruined shots, broken gear… and how none of those things were reasons to quit. He taught me about the various filters that would enhance my drone footage. I felt like I had learned so much in the space of about half an hour. 

Something about that conversation grounded me. It reminded me that every skill starts with confusion. Every passion requires patience. Every journey needs a guide, sometimes one that appears out of nowhere. “Chase your curiosities”

His advice didn’t just help me. It kept me going.

Borrowing a Camera and Seeing the World Differently

Luckily for me Michaela has a big boys, Canon camera. I’ve tried to use it before. However, with Raphael’s expert advice I picked it up but this time it was different. I knew what I had to learn. I watched a few YouTube videos to understand the “exposure triangle”, and just took the camera with me wherever we went for a few days. Until the results started to show.

I wasn’t trying to “get it right.” I was just trying to learn how to balance the shutter speed, the ISO and the aperture. First it was blurry, then it was over exposed and then I’d forgotten to remove the lens cover wondering why everything was so dark.

I started to suddenly see more than what was infant of me. 

How the mountains, trees and sky met together through the rule of thirds.
How the light was escaping through the trees.
The unique look that the locals had.
The way a mountain looks completely different every few minutes.

Photography made me slow down.
It made me more present.
It made me pay attention in a way I never had before and really appreciate the combination of light, colours, shadows and the composition of my surroundings 

Understanding the exposure triangle suddenly wasn’t a chore. It was a language. A way of shaping the world I was seeing.

Unfortunately for Michaela, our hikes are now significantly longer because I stop every ten steps. But I’m finally learning to enjoy the detours. 

I also want to keep her on my side so without her knowing she is at the heart of a lot of the photos I’ve taken, like a vogue model out in Thailands forests.

The Stories Behind the Lens

What I love most is the story that each photo tells.

Not just the story that I know; the sweaty hike, the bug bites, the moment I nearly tripped off a rock trying to get the angle. It’s the stories that other people create when they look at it. The subjective opinion and the way how everyone views the image differently.

The same photo becomes a hundred different imaginations.
I also love the thought that every photographer is different and has their own style. So there’s no real right or wrong answer. 

Photography isn’t just about capturing the world. It’s about sharing the way you see it. Realising that others see something different, and beautiful, in return.

What Photography Is Teaching Me

Its taught me patience. To stop and savour the moment. And take my time looking and seeing more than I originally would.
Curiosity. The desire to learn more about the world of photography and saving memories for a lifetime.
Presence. The ability to stop for a moment. Breathe. Take it all in and see everything in more ways than one.
Resilience after failure. Not every photo is good. A lot of them / the majority aren’t great at all, but like golf, you get that one good shot that lands exactly where you want it too, right near the pin. It’s all worth the above reasons to carry on and keep exploring this new found love, photography.
And that sometimes the smallest moments become the biggest memories. What I thought was a bad photo can turn out to be a real head turner and straight onto the socials.

Photography has become a daily reminder that good things aren’t loud.
They don’t shout.
They whisper.

They show up in the corner of your frame, in the warmth of a sunrise, in the unexpected kindness of someone like Raphael, or in the quiet decision to try again when you could have quit.

Maybe the Drone Crash Was a Sign

If I hadn’t crashed the drone, maybe I never would have picked up the camera with this level of determination. Maybe I wouldn’t have met Raphael. Maybe I wouldn’t have discovered how grounding it feels to see the world through a lens.

Sometimes the things that feel like setbacks are actually doorways.
Sometimes the broken moments are just beginnings you didn’t recognise yet.

Photography found me when I needed something to slow me down and remind me that the world is full of good things, if you’re willing to look closely.