Why Location and Timing Have to Work Together (And Why Your Backyard Might Be Better Than You Think)
- May 27
- 4 min read
Updated: Jun 11
A condensed version of these tips was first shared in Roadside Reflections, my monthly newsletter where I share stories from behind the lens, tips from the road, and a little of what is coming up next. If this felt like your kind of thing, I would love to have you along for the ride. You can sign up here. New issues arrive to your inbox the second Thursday of every month.
You have a session in mind. You know you want portraits. And then the question comes up, the one that stops more people than anything else: "But where would we even do it?"
For a lot of people, that question isn't really about location. It's about hesitation. It's a quieter worry that sounds something like: what if the place I have in mind isn't pretty enough? Let's dive into that.
Light Is the Actual Subject
"Photography" is Greek for "drawing with light." That's not trivia. It's the whole job description.
When I'm scouting a location, I'm not looking for something that photographs well on a Tuesday at noon in flat overhead light. I'm asking a different question entirely: what does this place look like at golden hour, when the sun is low and warm and the shadows go long? A worn barn door becomes something with texture and dimension. A gravel road you've driven a thousand times turns into a tunnel of soft, backlit gold. A backyard tree line that feels completely ordinary in the middle of the day starts to glow.
Light changes everything. Which is why timing and location aren't two separate decisions. They work together, or they don't work at all.
What I'm Actually Looking For
When a client tells me they want to use their own property, their farm, their acreage, the pasture where their horses live, my first reaction isn't "will this be pretty enough?" It's "what's here, and what will the light do with it?"
Here's what I'm looking for when I walk a location:
Layers and texture. A wide open, flat field with nothing in the background is actually harder to work with than a space with some structure to it. I'm looking for sheds, fence lines, tree rows, the corner of a barn, a water tank, a gate. Those elements give the light something to play with and give your portraits a sense of place.
Backlighting opportunities. Trees with the sun sitting just behind them. A fence row facing west at 7pm. A pasture where the natural slope catches the last of the evening light. Backlit scenes create warmth and dimension that wide open sky just can't match on its own.
The road or path you don't think twice about. I cannot count the number of times a client has apologized for a gravel driveway or a muddy lane, and I've ended up using it as one of the best spots of the whole session. The familiar stretch you walk every day, the one you never look twice at, is sometimes the best frame hiding in plain sight.
The thing that is yours. The headstall you won. The spot where your horses come to the fence. The corner of the yard where your dog always waits. These aren't "pretty" in a generic sense. They're specific. And specific is always more interesting.
Your Location Doesn't Have to Be Impressive. It Has to Be Yours.
This is the part that matters most, and it's the part most people don't expect me to say.
I am not looking for Pinterest-perfect when I pull up to your place. I'm looking for what is true about you and your family and your animals. It showcases the bits of life that have made you, you. The worn places. The lived-in corners. The stretch of fence your horse paces when she hears the feed bucket. Those details don't detract from your portraits. They're the reason someone looks at your portraits twenty years from now and knows exactly who you were and how you lived.
The worry that "my place isn't pretty enough" almost always comes from comparing your everyday to someone else's highlight reel. Your everyday is the thing I'm here to make art out of.
If You Don't Have a Location in Mind
Not everyone does, and that's completely fine.
Part of what we do on our consultation call is talk through what matters to you, and that conversation shapes where we end up. I keep a working list of locations I love around the Omaha and Lincoln areas, including some private spots as well as some Nebraska State Park and recreation areas that don't get nearly enough credit as portrait locations (outside of October, anyway). Some are horse-friendly. Most are genuinely beautiful in a way that still surprises me. That list is something I share with clients once we've talked through their session vision together.
If you've been holding off on reaching out because you're not sure where your session would even happen, that's the exact right thing to bring to a consultation call. It's one of the first things we figure out together. 💛 Schedule a complimentary consultation.
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