Tag: landscape photography

Marie Selby Roots, 2012

In Greg Urbano’s 2012 black and white photograph of banyan tree roots at the Marie Selby Botanical Gardens, the ordinary is elevated to extraordinary. Using a Nikon D5100, he emphasizes natural architecture and texture, inviting viewers to appreciate the monumental presence of the roots and their intricate details, symbolizing persistence and growth.

Black‑and‑white close‑up photograph of large banyan tree roots spreading across the ground at Marie Selby Botanical Gardens, taken with a Nikon D5100.
A 2012 black‑and‑white photograph of banyan tree roots at Marie Selby Botanical Gardens in Sarasota, Florida.

In the Marie Selby Botanical Gardens of Sarasota, Florida, Greg Urbano discovered a subject that speaks to photography’s essential pursuit: finding extraordinary vision in the ordinary world. His 2012 image of a banyan tree’s root system transforms what many visitors might walk past into a study of natural architecture, texture, and the quiet monumentality of growth.

Shot on a Nikon D5100 at 18mm, the photograph embraces the wide-angle perspective to emphasize the sculptural sprawl of roots as they emerge from and return to the earth. The technical choices here are deliberate—an aperture of ƒ/4.5 provides sufficient depth of field to keep the intricate root structures sharp from foreground to middle ground, while the 1/80s shutter speed at ISO 100 captures clean detail in what appears to be soft, overcast light. The conversion to black and white strips away the distraction of color, allowing the image to become purely about form, line, and the interplay of light across weathered surfaces.

What makes this photograph compelling is its invitation to reconsider scale and presence. Banyan trees are known for their dramatic aerial root systems, which drop from branches to establish new anchor points in the soil. These roots, over time, become massive supporting structures that can make a single tree look like an entire forest. Urbano positions his lens low and close, giving these roots the monumentality they deserve. They undulate across the frame like organic highways, their surfaces marked by the patient work of decades—moss-covered in places, smooth and silvered in others, each groove and crack a record of growth and adaptation.

The composition draws the eye through natural pathways. The roots create flowing curves that lead deeper into the frame, while pockets of accumulated leaves and debris provide textural contrast and visual rest stops. There’s an almost sculptural quality to the way light models the cylindrical forms, revealing their three-dimensionality through subtle gradations of gray. The photograph operates on multiple levels: as documentation of a specific botanical specimen, as an abstract study of natural form, and as a meditation on time, persistence, and the hidden infrastructure that supports visible life.

Within the context of the Top 100 Journey project, this image represents the photographer’s developing eye for architectural elements in nature. The banyan’s root system is, after all, a kind of natural architecture—functional, structural, and beautiful in its purposeful design. The black and white treatment connects this work to photography’s documentary traditions while simultaneously elevating the subject into the realm of fine art.

There’s something humbling about standing before such a root system, and Urbano’s photograph captures that sense of being in the presence of something both ancient and ongoing. These roots speak to persistence, to the slow but inexorable way living things claim their space in the world. The photographer’s choice to work at ground level, to get close and look carefully, reveals a fundamental photographic truth: the world rewards sustained attention. What appears as mere roots at first glance becomes, through the lens, a landscape unto itself—complex, textured, and worthy of extended contemplation.

Into the Green Cathedral: Highlands Hammock State Park, 2011

Greg Urbano’s 2011 photograph from the Cypress Swamp Trail reflects the intersection of technical skill and artistic vision in photography. Using a Pentax K-x, he captures a weathered boardwalk amidst Florida’s lush swamp, illustrating the relationship between nature and human presence. The image balances light and texture, inviting viewers into a transformative experience.

Wooden boardwalk winding through a cypress swamp with tall trees, exposed roots, and reflective dark water, photographed in 2011 with a Pentax K‑x.
A 2011 photograph of the Cypress Swamp Trail boardwalk at Highlands Hammock State Park in Florida.

In the early stages of any photographer’s journey, there exists a pivotal moment when technical capability intersects with artistic vision—when the craft begins to serve something deeper than mere documentation. Greg Urbano’s 2011 photograph from the Cypress Swamp Trail at Highlands Hammock State Park captures precisely this threshold, presenting a meditation on entrance, passage, and the liminal spaces where human intervention meets primordial nature.

The composition anchors itself on a weathered wooden boardwalk that curves through the left third of the frame, its moss-stained surface bearing witness to countless footsteps and Florida’s relentless humidity. Shot at 18mm on a Pentax K-x with the kit lens, Urbano demonstrates an understanding that wide-angle photography isn’t about capturing everything—it’s about creating context and relationship. The boardwalk serves as both literal path and visual guide, drawing the eye from the immediate foreground deep into the swamp’s verdant interior.

What distinguishes this image from typical nature photography is its masterful handling of light in a notoriously challenging environment. Shooting at f/4.0 with a 1/40s shutter speed and ISO 400, Urbano navigated the technical constraints of a modestly equipped camera to capture the dappled luminosity filtering through the canopy. The exposure balances the bright patches of sky visible through the trees with the darker water below, creating a tonal range that feels both accurate and atmospheric. The slightly elevated ISO introduces a subtle grain that, rather than detracting from the image, contributes to its organic texture.

The swamp water itself becomes a secondary canvas, reflecting the surrounding cypress trunks and creating visual echoes that blur the boundary between substance and reflection. Fallen branches break the surface tension, their pale, skeletal forms contrasting with the vibrant greens of new growth. This juxtaposition of decay and vitality speaks to the swamp’s essential nature as a place of transformation, where death continuously feeds life.

The color palette reveals a sophisticated eye for harmony—countless variations of green layer upon one another, from the luminous chartreuse of sunlit leaves to the deep olive shadows beneath the boardwalk. The aged wood introduces warmer earth tones, grounding the composition and providing respite from the overwhelming verdancy. These are the subtle decisions that separate intentional photography from happy accidents.

Within the context of a photographer’s formative work, this image represents more than technical competence. It demonstrates an emerging awareness of how to use man-made structures not as intrusions upon nature, but as framers of experience—the boardwalk doesn’t dominate the swamp; it offers a way to witness it. The slight curve of the path suggests journey and discovery, inviting viewers to imagine themselves walking deeper into this green cathedral.

Shot with entry-level equipment during a period when digital photography was becoming democratized, this photograph affirms that vision matters more than gear. The Pentax K-x and kit lens proved sufficient tools for capturing not just a place, but an atmosphere—the particular quality of light, air, and time that defines Florida’s ancient swamplands. It stands as evidence of a photographer learning to see, to compose, and to recognize moments worth preserving.