I often title my photos based on feelings or emotions evoked while I was there. Not this one. In fact, I don't believe I even took this photo in summer. Furthermore, I didn't even post-process and publish this photo until about ten years after I took it. Nothing about it really struck me at the time. But now, almost a decade later, it strikes me deeply. I think the title "Summertime Sadness" fits from an aesthetic standpoint... the bright sun and clear sky, the lens flares, the overall sepia hue. But for the, the title fits even better from an emotional standpoint. To me, this photo perfectly embodies an afternoon in the Santa Cruz Mountains. A place where I spent many hours of my time (Windy Hill and Russian Ridge in particular). Rediscovering this photo after so many years have passed, and having since moved away from California, it is soaked with nostalgia and, in a way, sadness. Not a deep lingering sadness. That phase of life had run its course and is full of happy memories, not regrets. Rather just a fleeting sadness of good times gone past.

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This beautiful little chapel is nestled high up in the cloud forests of Costa Rica. It is part of a resort now, but is a relic from the times when missionaries were colonizing the region. I love the way it stands out, in stark contrast to the emerald hillsides. I'm sure its plain demeanor was either out of necessity, or out of homage to their pursuit of modest, humble lives. However, it almost looks as if it instead was out of deference to the surrounding landscape. It's as if to say: "I cannot compete with the beauty of these hills, these trees, these forests, so I won't even try."

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Any visit to Provence, France, should include the town of Roussillon. It is similar to all the other small towns -- historical, quaint, and clustered around the top of a hill. But there is one big difference. Instead of being made from standard gray stone, like the others, Roussillon is made of red clay. It gives it an entirely different vibe. You forget that you are in Provence, almost feeling more like the Middle East in places. The beautiful walk to the top of the town also cannot be neglected. Once you get there, and survey the stunning panoramas, it feels like Provence again. Wildflowers, green fields, and gentle rolling hills in all directions.

Higher resolutions of this image are available (the maximum resolution for this image is 4607x3071). For usages that require a resolution higher than 3000px, or are otherwise beyond the standard terms and conditions, please email me directly at matt@matttilghman.com to discuss use-specific pricing.

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If you see Croatia by boat, as I did, make sure you take an excursion inland. The Dalmatian Coast is admittedly some of the most stunning shoreline I've ever seen, and it's hard to pull yourself away. But the Croatian Countryside has a lot to offer, too. Take Krka National Park, the location of this photograph. The Krka River, which cascades through these foothills of the Dinaric Alps, is the longest river in Croatia. In this canyon, the makeup of the rock allows for the solidification of minerals dissolved in the river, creating formations known as tufa. But beyond having amazing landscapes and geology, it also has amazing history. Native people have fished these rivers, and harnessed their power for milling grain, for millennia. And despite many worldwide empires having come through the region, their culture and way life is still alive and well.

Higher resolutions of this image are available (the maximum resolution for this image is 8146x3429). For usages that require a resolution higher than 3000px, or are otherwise beyond the standard terms and conditions, please email me directly at matt@matttilghman.com to discuss use-specific pricing.

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There's only two or three photographs that when I see them, my first thought is "wow, I remember how cold I was." Obviously, the California winter storm pictured here is nothing like the blizzards in other parts of the country. Heck, it's nothing like the blizzards in other parts of the state. These Santa Cruz Mountains are remarkably mild. But that means you're typically not dressed like you would be for a nor'easter. And here at Russian Ridge, the winds coming off the Pacific can rip over these mountains at surprising speeds. Couple that with the fog and 100% humidity, and near freezing temperatures, and it can feel like the coldest shower you've ever taken.

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I took this photograph along Ancient Oaks Trail, in Russian Ridge Open Space, California. I must have passed this tree close to a hundred times. It's located on one of my favorite hikes in one of my favorite places. But for some reason, despite its imposing size, it never seemed to catch my attention too much. But on this morning, while covered in dew, the rising sun back-lit the tree in such a way that it seemed to come to life, almost as if possessed by some sort of divinity. The tree seemed like an guardian angel, watching over the acres of California chaparral.

Higher resolutions of this image are available (the maximum resolution for this image is 4368x2912). For usages that require a resolution higher than 3000px, or are otherwise beyond the standard terms and conditions, please email me directly at matt@matttilghman.com to discuss use-specific pricing.

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This photo has quite the story to go along with it. It had been raining in the area a lot for the past few days. During a brief break in the rains, I thought I'd try to go capture some lush hillsides. At first I thought I'd go to Coyote Hills, but as I approached them, it was clear they were still brown. However, I could see some beautiful emerald hillsides rising in the distance (what I now know to be the Garin/Dry Creek/Pioneer parks). I had never explored these hills yet, so I whipped out my phone to see if there were any public, explorable parks in the hills ahead. And then, I got pulled over and given a ticket for using my phone. Oh well, I can't say I didn't deserve it. But undeterred, I still explored the hills. It was a lovely setting, as the approaching storms coated the hills in dappled, evanescent sunlight. Overall, I think it was worth the ticket.

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On this hike through Russian Ridge Open Space, I saw a phenomenon that was completely knew to me. As the fog broke up, the sun began to peek through the cracks. I'm sure this must happen often, and I come here often, so I don't know why it is so rare for me to see. Perhaps this usually happens when the sun is lower in the sky, thus it's angle means it can't shine through. Or perhaps there's usually a lot more void than cloud. That would mean the projection is mostly sunshine, with just a few cloud shadows. Just based on memory, I think such a sight is far more common. But this sight, though it sounds similar, felt completely different. Instead of an archipelago of shadows, it's an archipelago of sunlight. Rather than contiguous paths of sunlight, which would happen if the fog was "breaking up," it's the shadows that are contiguous. So instead, we're witnessing holes being burned through the fog.

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The name of this photograph comes from the nature of this waterfall. Phantom Falls (in North Table Mountain Ecological Preserve, in the Chico/Oroville area, California) is so named because sometimes you see it, and sometimes you don't. It only appears after prolonged rain, towards the end of the wet season. And it can dry up rather quickly, too, with the hot sun as well as very absorbent volcanic ground. This photo was taken in mid to late spring, with probably only a few weeks of water flow left. But the grass was green and lush, and still hid a few poppy blossoms. The place truly came to life at sunset, when the shadows cast by the dramatic rock formations began to play games with the landscape.

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When spring rolls around, the California hills turn that intoxicating shade of emerald green. As soon this starts to happen, I try to hit every location I can think of. Usually top on my list are the Open Space Preserves in the Santa Cruz Mountains, along Skyline Boulevard. Russian Ridge, Windy Hill, those are usually the ones I visit first. But that's simply out of convenience, living on the peninsula. Soon I remember that the rolling hillsides in the East Bay are just as beautiful. Mount Diablo stands out, but it's a bit further, so usually warrants an extended trip or group outing. But on those days where I just want to get in my car and go, the Garin/Dry Creek Pioneer Park combination cannot be beat. It's high enough up in the foothills of the Diablo Range that it offers stunning views of the bay, but low enough that it's a manageable and enjoyable afternoon jaunt. And the oak-studded chaparral hills rival those of anywhere else in California. It should be on everyone's springtime checklist.

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