Another day of photographic tomfoolery on our Hunt’s Photo Adventure with Don Toothaker in Yellowstone National Park
What is it about reflections that makes photographers lose their minds? Seriously—show us a puddle and suddenly we’re philosophers, poets, and stunt performers all in one. I’m writing this on a train to New York City, staring out the window like a man who just discovered water for the first time. Meanwhile, the person next to me definitely thinks I’m drafting a breakup letter. Nope. I’m just swooning over reversed pine trees. Again.
Maybe we’re addicted to the way light does that magical “abracadabra, now I’m upside-down” thing. Maybe we love the jolt of seeing something familiar flipped like a circus acrobat. Or maybe… just maybe… reflections let us feel clever without having to do actual clever things—like math.
Let’s face it: reflections are dreamy, otherworldly, and occasionally make you question whether you accidentally slipped into Narnia. Illusionists have made millions off smoke and mirrors, and photographers? Well, we just yell “LOOK AT THIS!” and call it art. (And yes, I’m absolutely guilty.)
So picture this: we’re along a stretch of the Yellowstone River, all pretending to be serious artists, when I spot Paola performing a photographic maneuver I believed only existed in ancient scrolls or YouTube. It was the rare and mystical Houdini “Coming-and-Going” Sequential Capture.”
I’m not exaggerating—her form was perfect. First camera raise just inches off the water like a samurai. Second camera holstered on her hip like she was about to quick-draw at high noon. Remote trigger cleverly hidden with the gravitas of a rabbit in the hat. I swear she could’ve been hired by Cirque du Soleil on the spot. Naturally, I documented the whole thing for future museum exhibits.
Then—because Yellowstone loves throwing curveballs—we came upon a tiny tributary where the conifers reflected so cleanly it looked like I had stuck my head out of a grass hut in some enchanted jungle. If you saw the photo without context, you’d think I’d built the hut myself out of reeds and questionable decisions.
And I have to admit… this stuff is fun. The kind of fun where photographers turn to their non-photographer companions and say, “LOOK! LOOK! I DID A THING!” with all the enthusiasm of someone who has just nailed a quadruple twisting somersault in the Olympics.
So now you understand why photographers get weirdly excited when it rains.
Two words: Puddle Season.
Where some see mud, we see portals. Where others see inconvenience, we see upside-down trees whispering, “C’mon… take the shot…
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