Hey there Reader
There is one question I hear almost every day as an adventure guide in Alaska:
“When are we going to see bears?”
And I get it.
If you're coming to Alaska, seeing a bear is probably somewhere on the bucket list. And as the guide, I feel this weird little pressure to deliver.
I want people to have that HOLY CRAP, I SAW A BEAR IN ALASKA moment.
And selfishly?
I want to see the bear too.
I'm a photographer. If a bear walks out tomorrow, I'm absolutely reaching for my camera.
But after spending a summer watching what happens when bears actually appear...
I've started feeling a little weird about the whole thing.
Everyone Wants the Bear
There's a local mama bear affectionately known as Lulu.
Lulu has four cubs.
Which, as you can imagine, is an almost unfair level of cuteness.
When they appear, people stop. Cameras come out. Photographers move closer. People yell to their friends. Everyone wants a better view.
Everyone wants the shot.
Meanwhile, I'm standing there thinking:
Where are the cubs? Where is mom trying to go? Are people blocking her? Are my guests safe? Is Lulu stressed?
And somewhere underneath all of that:
HOLY CRAP THERE ARE FOUR BABY BEARS. WHERE IS MY CAMERA?!
That's the part I've been wrestling with.
Because I'm Part of It Too
It would be very convenient for me to climb onto my ethically sourced high horse and complain about everyone else.
Except...
I'm a wildlife photographer.
I understand exactly why everyone is excited.
The excitement isn't the problem.
Maybe it's what happens after the excitement.
Photography does something strange to our brains. Suddenly we aren't simply looking at a bear.
We're thinking about the light. The background. The angle.
Could I get a little closer?
Would the photo be better from over there?
But wildlife adds another variable:
Our subject didn't agree to the photoshoot.
And sometimes, in our pursuit of the photograph, we start changing the very thing we're trying to photograph.
Suddenly we're no longer just documenting wildlife.
We're influencing it.
So...What's the Answer?
I don't know.
And I actually think that's what makes this conversation worth having.
I'm not going to stop photographing wildlife. Photography has made me care more about animals and the places they live.
And when I see Lulu and her four ridiculously adorable cubs?
I'm still going to be excited. I'm still going to take the photo.
But Alaska has given me a new question to ask myself.
Instead of:
“How close can I get?”
Maybe:
“How far away can I stay and still tell the story?”
Because the goal shouldn't just be coming home with a photograph of something wild.
It should be making sure it gets to stay wild.
For My Fellow Shutterbugs...
This whole experience got me thinking about what responsible wildlife photography actually looks like in practice.
How do you recognize when you're affecting an animal? What happens when everyone around you keeps getting closer? When do you accept the worse photo? And how do we photograph wildlife without becoming that photographer?
That's what I'm digging into this week inside Shutterbugs Gone Wild.
I would love to know your thoughts!
🐻📸
Until next adventure,
Alexandra
The Bucket List Mermaid
P.S. Here is my bear photo!
