She got out of our 1996 Saturn SL, walked around a few minutes, snapped a single picture, and got back in the car.
A couple of months later, she gave me slightly blown up print of that picture, developed in black and white, in a simple frame, and asked if I'd like to put it on my desk at work.
The photo was stunning, and so I took it to work.
Over the year, a number of people came by and commented on the striking beauty of that picture. In fact, two different people (at different times) came, looked at the picture very carefully, and said that they were quite surprised that there was an Ansel Adams photo they had not seen before.
At my suggestion, she entered it into various local and state photography competitions, and won all of them.
Alas, it was lost in a fire many years ago.
My wife has no training, formal or otherwise, in photography. But she has a naturally keen eye for graphic design and layout.
Equipment is good and important; location, timing, and an eye for composition is, in my opinion, far more important.
This is fantastic! The Eastern Sierras are an amazing place to explore through camping and day hikes. In my own experience, my parents had planned backpacking trips in this area several times when I was a teen, where each trip was filled with moments like the one your wife and yourself experienced. New places, or points of perspective — where you see the world around you in a new light — are precious and awe-inspiring.
> Alas, it was lost in a fire many years ago.
This is sad to read. Losing personal photos is hard to come to terms with
> Equipment is good and important; location, timing, and an eye for composition is, in my opinion, far more important.
This makes sense, and seems to be a broad truth across disciplines: artists and creators are not bounded by tools.
My wife and I plan to take our children out to these places. Seeing a sky full of stars and seemingly boundless nature, against the background of quiet sounds and the natural world around you, is something that I wish everyone would experience in their lifetime.
Yes.
As a teenager, with my grandparents, we were camped here for a while: https://goo.gl/maps/zYf5SvSZ2WMaFQpx5 The moon was new, and not yet risen. Even though it was mid summer, near midnight, the outside temperature was below freezing.
I walked out away from the camp, past a small ridge, and suddenly, for the first time in my life, I could see not a single artificial light.
At more than 10,000 feet of elevation, the air was sharp as a knife. It was dark, yet it wasn't. The arc of our galaxy looked like cotton, it was so bright and clear. The stars were steady, with barely any atmospheric distortion.
I sat on a large rock and opened the book I was carrying.
"By the starlit mere of Cuiviénen, Water of Awakening, they rose from the sleep of Ilúvatar; and while they dwelt yet silent by Cuiviénen their eyes beheld first of all things the stars of heaven. Therefore they have ever loved the starlight, and have revered Varda Elentári above all the Valar."
The thing that better equipment gives you is options, and if you know how to use it, the possibility of getting photos you otherwise couldn't get (at least not a decent version of). That's it, really.
Even the most modest equipment can take a great photo - but the conditions have to be just right for that gear.
Like you say, equipment is only a small fraction of the equation.
A photographer friend shared with me a long time ago very similar advice to get better shots: location, timing, make the subject wear red, and push the shutter button more.
You can't frame what you didn't take.
The iPhone is certainly a decent point-and-shoot camera.