A Drop in the Bucket at Buachaille

I don't like the term "bucket list"--mostly because I don't like the word "bucket"--but today was a chance to cross a place off the aforementioned list.
The debates continue to rage as to whether photography is really "art," and that photographers can really get into a herd mentality, pursuing the same locations over and over because they know that pics of these places will hopefully get them noticed.
As for the first point, I really have no opinion, mostly because I have always treated photography as its own thing and can genuinely say that I have been much more interested in where it's leading me rather than taking the time to pontificate its overall artistic merit. As to the second point, though, I have much more mixed feelings. Yes, that 700,000th shot of Half-Dome in Yosemite in fall (or winter, spring, morning, evening...) is gorgeous and I would love to go there and get "the shot," but I'm also exasperated because in trying to find my own voice, I worry that I'm just imitating someone else's. I have to find my own way, but from time to time, the way to do that is to go to places that others have photographed and see what you can do.
Of course, there are several factors that can make a shot your own--the time of day, the environmental conditions of the location, the composition, post-processing elements, etc., but the longer I pursue this hobby, the more I realize that photography is a set of principles and techniques you bring with you, which are honed over time through field work, study, and experimentation. Perhaps that is the essence of art? I'll leave that to someone else to debate.
If all of this sounds long-winded, then I apologize, but it's all quite necessary to explain this shot.
Buachaille Etive Mòr is one of those "bucket list" places, a location that is full of intrinsic interest that every photographer wants to get, but just like anything, can be made to look "bad" (or worse, bland) if you have no perspective, no hook, no angle. Most photogs would give their eye-teeth to get the perfect mixture of clouds, light, and, almost as important, the rush of water that cascades over the rocks in front of the mountain after a heavy rain. Well, October was a pretty dry month as we were told by our innkeepers, and since the rivers in the Highlands are mostly runoff from the mountains, I expected to be disappointed.
But my hook? My angle? Get there at dawn. Hope for some beautiful morning light, frame the mountain against the lower falls and see if we can't make it our own. So, here it is. Is it art? I don't know, but here's to continuing the pursuit.


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