Let’s be honest—landscape photography is like fishing with a camera. You cast your tripod into the great unknown, baited with hope, and wait for nature to cooperate. Sometimes you catch gold. Other times, you get a sky so bland it looks like it called in sick.

When I started my photographic journey, I fell hard for landscapes. There’s something deeply poetic about capturing the earth as it is—raw, real, and untouched by apps or AI. But let’s not sugarcoat it: landscape photography is a crowded genre. Everyone with a smartphone thinks they’ve snapped the next National Geographic cover, especially now that apps can replace skies, adjust lighting, and even change the time of day with a few swipes.

But here’s the thing—no app can replace the thrill of being there. Of feeling the cold bite of a pre-dawn wind, or the golden kiss of light as the sun tips over the horizon. That’s the magic of a real landscape shot. And that’s what this post is about.

Full disclosure, I’m a blind photographer, so everything about landscape photography is compounded by my vision loss. Tromping around in the dark trying to get to that special spot, my guide dog leading me every step of the way isn’t about the final result for me, it I about the challenge of getting that shot and the story that goes along with it.

What Draws You In?

If you’re reading this, chances are you already know the answer. A good landscape pulls you in. It invites your eye to wander, to explore, to feel something. Maybe it’s a glowing patch of light, or the way the clouds stretch across the sky like a symphony in motion.

I believe what really draws people to a landscape photo is authenticity. It’s the story of the place told in natural light. And if you’re shooting in the middle of the day with harsh shadows and sunburnt highlights, you’re missing half the story. Shoot in the blue hour just before sunrise for a cool, tranquil mood, or during golden hour in the evening for a warm, dreamy glow. Light matters—and time of day is your brushstroke.

Practice Like You Mean It

Want to get better at landscapes? Practice even when you’re nowhere near one. I’m so enamored with landscapes that I shoot everything like a landscape—including people. I’ve photographed the human form using hips as rolling hills and forearms as foreground elements, blurred like a tilt-shift lens shot in the field. You can see my work at www.bodyscapes.photography

This mindset trains your eye to see form, light, and balance in any setting. The more you treat the everyday as a landscape, the better you’ll be when you hit the field.

Scout, Return, Repeat

Falling in love with a location is only step one. If you feel that magnetic pull to a place, drop a pin in your phone’s GPS. Then come back. Again. And again. Try it in different seasons, different weather, different light.

I’ve returned to the same spot in Rocky Mountain National Park every year for nearly a decade. Sometimes it’s serene and warm. Sometimes I’m being snowblasted sideways while trying to keep my tripod from taking flight. And still—still—I haven’t gotten the exact shot I’m looking for. That’s part of the process. It’s what makes it worth it.

The Trap of AI and Sky Replacement

Let’s talk about the elephant in the Lightroom: AI sky replacement and time-of-day faking. Sure, it’s tempting. The technology is impressive, and it’s easy to see why people use it—perfect light, every time, no mosquito bites required.

But at what cost?

When you swap in a sky from some stock library or use AI to conjure golden hour from high noon, you’re not making art. You’re designing something—and while that may be fine for graphic design or digital art, it’s not what landscape photography is about.

People are beginning to associate landscapes with being overprocessed or fake, often because the shadows don’t match the direction of light, or the replaced sky has grain that clashes with the scene. I don’t swap skies unless it’s an absolute once-in-a-lifetime shot—and even then, it’s with full transparency. Why? Because I value the effort, the chase, the soul of the photo.

Everything Changes—And That’s the Point

One of the greatest joys in landscape photography is realizing that even if you return to the same spot a hundred times, it’s never the same. Light shifts. Seasons transform. Trees grow. Water levels rise and fall. Wildlife moves in. You’re not just capturing a place—you’re capturing a moment in that place.

Keep a journal. Track the light. Use apps like PhotoPills to see where the sun, moon, or even the Milky Way will be at any given time. Augmented reality overlays can help you plan your shoot down to the minute—but you still have to be there, boots on the ground, heart in the game.

The Process Is the Art

Here’s the truth that AI can’t replicate: the act of going out and creating a landscape image is the art. The effort, the planning, the missed shots, the cold fingers, the patience—it all culminates in one moment where everything lines up and the shutter clicks. That’s a reward no app can fabricate.

If you’re frustrated because your landscape work isn’t getting into galleries or shows, I hear you. It’s a saturated field. But don’t let that make you cut corners or lose your passion. Instead, let it push you to innovate—not by faking skies, but by combining your love of landscapes with other subjects. That’s how I evolved my work: I found new ways to shoot, and new stories to tell, while honoring the landscape ethos.

Final Thought: Let the Sky Be Real

So, to all my fellow photographers: resist the urge to cheat the light. Embrace the journey. Accept that some days the clouds won’t show up and the sunset will fizzle out. That’s okay. Go back. Keep going back.

Because one day, when the wind is just right, and the sun paints the world with molten gold, and everything falls into place—you’ll know you earned it. And no algorithm can compete with that.

Now, get out there and get shooting.