How bad weather enabled my best landscape photos
In my new YouTube video "How to Use Bad Weather to Your Advantage in Landscape Photography," I take you behind the scenes of one of the most impressive stages of my award-winning ENLIGHTEN photography project. It's about a lesson I learned the hard way: how to deal with difficult weather conditions and make the best of them for your photography. Here on the blog, you'll now find the detailed backstory to the episode.
It's the fourth day of our production in the Alps. The first shots in the Bivak pod Skuto were still in our bones as we set off for the next location: the Bivacco Luca Vuerich, a small mountain hut dramatically perched on the ridge of the Sella Nevea. Architecture was secondary in this location choice. What appealed to me was the spectacular location overlooking the rugged peaks of the Italian Alps.
When we reached the parking lot for the ascent, everything seemed perfect at first. Blue skies, pleasant temperatures, and the hope for an easy stage. But the first glimpse of the summit dampened the mood: once again, our target hut was shrouded in a dense cloud.
What to do? Turn around? Postpone? My inner weakling was immediately on the scene, providing arguments: "The location isn't that exciting. We have other spots ahead of us. The weather isn't right."
But my experience with shoots in the mountains told me: weather can change faster than you think. So we shouldered the heavy backpacks and set off through alpine meadows, accompanied by cows and curious chamois.
What followed was an exhausting ascent. At the latest when entering the rocks of the Sella Nevea, I felt that something was wrong today. My steps were unsteady, my hands were shaking. A state I didn't know from myself like this. Was it the exhaustion? The altitude? The pressure to produce good pictures? For a long time, I felt a sense of fear.
Marcus and I decided to slow down. We had planned enough time, and the summit had disappeared into the clouds anyway. With heavy legs, but a clear goal in mind, we finally reached the plateau.
And there, something happened that you can't plan: the cloud cover kept breaking up briefly. Rays of sunlight bathed the mountain range in dramatic light. The fear subsided. I took out my Hasselblad X2D, pointed it at the Bivacco Luca Vuerich – and everything was flowing again.
Two chamois ran through the picture, the adrenaline was pumping, I was back in photo mode. I almost floated over the rocks with euphoria for the remaining meters to the hut.
Arriving at the hut, the search for the best vantage point began immediately. The Lowepro GearUp Camera Cube, which I took out of my backpack, was worth its weight in gold. I could concentrate on the essentials and had everything at hand. It quickly became clear: there were only two positions from which I could safely realize my night shot. The terrain dropped steeply on three sides, and there was also dense fog, which made every composition a test of patience.
The biggest realization of this day was: you can think about it as much as you want in advance – in the end, the one who is prepared but remains flexible wins on the mountain.
Bivacco Luca Vuerich in a sea of fog, taken with the Hasselblad X2D and the XCD 21mm.
Waiting for the moment: When patience becomes a photographic virtue
After we had documented a dramatic blue hour with impressive cloud formations, it was time to wait again. Because as soon as the sun had set, the sky completely clouded over. The dense fog took away our view – and with it any chance of a night shot. Again, we were not alone: another hiker had joined the hut and watched our activities with a mixture of fascination and amusement. Such encounters are what make these tours so appealing to me. Without cell phone reception, without distraction – instead, tea, soup, and conversations about architectural highlights in the mountains.
Every 15 minutes I opened the creaking wooden door of the hut a crack and checked if the sky was changing. My two tripods had long been set up, aligned, and weighted down with stones so that they could withstand the wind on the exposed ridge. Then I only needed to click in the Hasselblad X2D. At exactly 9:00 p.m. the time had come: as the temperature dropped, the clouds cleared. A phenomenon that I have often experienced in the mountains. So if you are planning astrophotography – don't give up too early in bad weather. After sunset, the situation can change within a short time.
At this altitude, the right clothing is crucial. In the afternoon, we had started out in T-shirts, now we were wearing everything the backpack had to offer: T-shirt, fleece, down, hardshell, gloves, hat. Without these layers, we would hardly have survived the night shots. While Marcus positioned our Aperture MC LED lights, I positioned myself one meter away from the cliff. The XCD 21mm lens on the X2D was ready – and with one click, the first exposure began.
But the night was not over yet. According to the Photopills app, the Milky Way should be directly above the hut around 4:30 a.m. So we went to bed in the hut for a few hours – as best we could with a sleeping bag, high altitude air, and adrenaline in our blood. The alarm clock rang, we stumbled out into the freezing cold, and the conditions were almost perfect: clear visibility, only a few wisps of clouds. We did our best with light painting and exposure series – but the composition was not convincing. The hut looked like a block, without leading lines and without depth in the picture.
That's also part of photography: it doesn't always go as planned. But you learn. And sometimes you need exactly these attempts to know what you will do better next time.
A shot that didn't satisfy me: The hut lacks depth and the picture lacks leading lines here.
Sunrise, change of perspective and the big picture
After another hour of power napping, we went back out into the cold shortly before sunrise. In the mountains, I try to sleep directly at my shooting location if possible. This has several advantages: I save myself the sweaty ascent in the dark, can sleep more and, above all, observe the weather conditions better. This time the waiting was more than worth it. What was still shrouded in fog the day before now appeared in glowing morning light.
With the Hasselblad XCD 90V lens, I worked my way through the landscape. The first rays of sunlight bathed the rocky surroundings in a play of colors from red to orange. The structures of the mountains emerged, shadows emphasized their shapes and details that were still hidden the day before suddenly came to the fore.
Then my “Mini-Hasselblad” came into play: the DJI Mavic 2 Pro. Thanks to it, I was finally able to break free from the constraints of the cliffs. Unburdened by steep slopes and limited lines of sight, it flew bravely beyond the edge of the mountain. At last, I was able to capture the Bivacco Luca Vuerich as I had always envisioned: nestled in an imposing mountain panorama, on the edge of a dramatic precipice.
After all the drone batteries were empty and the last granola bars were devoured, it was time to say goodbye. Goodbye to the Bivacco Luca Vuerich – an inconspicuous hut, but with a view that will remain in my memory forever.
Bivacco Luca Vuerich in the Julian Alps, captured at sunrise with the DJI Mavic Pro 2.
Lasting insights
During the descent, I thought a lot about the day. Had I gotten the pictures I had hoped for? Yes. Absolutely. And more than that: I would have deeply regretted it if I had simply stayed in the valley the day before because of the clouds.
Because it was precisely the bad weather that made my best shots of the tour possible. Bad weather creates depth, atmosphere, and emotion. It brings movement to the sky, brings nature to life, and creates that very special tension in an image. The landscape shots I took in this place are among my favorites of the entire “ENLIGHTEN” series.
But – and this is important – safety always comes first. Especially in the mountains. Rain, fog, storm, cold – all of this harbors real dangers. It is not heroic to take risks, but irresponsible. And yes – I often struggle with this boundary myself. But I have learned: if the conditions are calculable, it's worth it. Because sometimes that's exactly when the image you'll never forget in your life is waiting.
What I would like to impart to you from this experience? Don't be put off by the weather. Dare to go out – even when it gets uncomfortable. It is precisely then that the images that convey depth, character, and history are often created. But: prepare yourself well. Pay attention to your equipment, your clothing – and your gut feeling.
If you want to develop further, if you want to refine your way of working as a photographer and take your projects to the next level, then join me at one of my photo workshops in Andalusia. I will show you my approach to fine art photography – very close to practice, directly at spectacular locations.
On my website you will also find individual online workshops and photo trips as well as detailed insights into my photo projects. And if you're not already a member, sign up for my VIP Club Newsletter – every month there's exclusive content and a free desktop background to download.
Happy shooting, and see you next time!
