Fallen Tree: The Foundation of Seeing

The photograph from Hillsborough River State Park, taken by Greg Urbano in 2013 with a Nikon D7100, captures a pivotal moment in his artistic development. It reflects his early understanding of composition and intentionality, showcasing the dense subtropical landscape through HDR processing. This image symbolizes the importance of beginnings and learning in photography.

Landscape in HDR 2013, Fallen Tree
Landscapes in HDR, this is an image taken along the trail in Hillsborough River State Park. Before moving to Colorado this park offered my best opportunity to capture flowing water over river rocks. Now I am spoiled with the Big Thompson and Cache la Poudre so close by.
Shot with a Nikon D7100.

In the opening chapter of Greg Urbano’s photographic journey, this image from Hillsborough River State Park stands as a testament to the essential nature of beginnings. Shot in 2013 with a Nikon D7100, the photograph captures more than a forest scene—it documents the foundational moment when a photographer learns to truly see the landscape before him.

The composition reveals an intuitive understanding of depth and perspective. Shot at 10mm, the wide-angle lens creates an immersive quality that draws viewers directly onto the trail. The fallen log in the foreground serves as both literal and metaphorical threshold, inviting passage into the deeper woods beyond. This diagonal element cuts across the frame with authority, its weathered texture rendered in sharp detail by the f/8.0 aperture, demonstrating Urbano’s early grasp of how to balance foreground interest with background context.

The HDR processing technique employed here reflects the experimental spirit characteristic of this pre-2015 period. While HDR would later fall somewhat out of favor in fine art photography circles, its application in this image serves a clear purpose: to capture the dynamic range of a Florida forest understory, where dappled sunlight creates extreme contrasts between shadow and highlight. The palmetto fronds and oak canopy are rendered with an almost hyper-real clarity that emphasizes the dense, layered nature of this subtropical ecosystem.

What makes this photograph particularly significant within the “Beginnings” chapter is its honesty about place and limitation. Urbano’s accompanying note—that this Florida park offered his “best opportunity to capture flowing water over river rocks” before relocating to Colorado—reveals something crucial about artistic development. Great photography emerges not from waiting for perfect conditions, but from working intensively with what’s available. This trail became his classroom, this fallen log his teacher.

The technical choices demonstrate a photographer thinking through his craft. The 1/50s shutter speed suggests deliberate handholding technique, while the ISO 200 setting indicates available light conditions and a preference for image quality. These aren’t the settings of someone simply pointing and shooting; they reveal consideration and intentionality, even in these early stages.

The color palette—predominantly greens with earth-toned accents—creates a cohesive, naturalistic feel despite the HDR processing. The slight motion blur in the foliage adds an organic quality, a reminder that this is a living landscape caught in a specific moment. The trail itself winds invitingly into the frame’s depth, disappearing around a bend that promises further discovery—a fitting metaphor for the artistic journey being documented.

In the context of Urbano’s larger body of work, this image represents more than just an early attempt. It embodies the crucial truth that mastery begins with showing up, with making photographs even when the circumstances aren’t ideal, even when the technique hasn’t been perfected. The photograph’s inclusion in his top 100 collection isn’t about technical perfection but about recognizing the importance of foundation.

Every artist’s journey requires a starting point, a place where curiosity meets commitment. This fallen tree, this Florida trail, this moment of learning to see—these are the essential ingredients that would eventually lead to mountain streams in Colorado and a mature photographic vision. The imperfect attempt, it turns out, isn’t just necessary. It’s everything.

The Gulf Pier: A Foundation in Light and Structure

Greg Urbano’s “Landscapes in HDR” captures the Gulf Fishing Pier at Fort de Soto Park, reflecting his artistic development in photography. Utilizing a Nikon D7100, he balances composition with HDR techniques, achieving naturalistic vibrancy without over-processing. The image embodies a pivotal moment in skill mastery, exploring the connection between environment and human creation.

Landscapes in HDR, this is an image taken at Fort de Soto park in Pinellas county Florida of the Gulf Fishing Pier. This was one of my favorite places to visit on an almost weekly basis while living in St Pete. What a beautiful view of the Gulf of Mexico! Shot with a Nikon D7100.

In the early stages of any photographer’s journey, there exists a pivotal moment when technical curiosity converges with artistic vision. Greg Urbano’s “Landscapes in HDR” from 2013 captures precisely this convergence—a photograph that speaks to the fundamentals of seeing while revealing the seeds of a maturing artistic voice.

The Gulf Fishing Pier at Fort de Soto Park presents itself as an exercise in classical composition, yet the image transcends mere documentation. Shot with a Nikon D7100 at 14mm, the photographer embraced the distortion inherent in ultra-wide-angle photography, using it not as a limitation but as a tool for emphasis. The pier’s concrete pathway stretches toward the horizon with geometric insistence, its weathered surface textured with salt stains and age—details that anchor the ethereal quality of the surrounding environment.

What distinguishes this work within the context of Chapter 1—Beginnings is the deliberate exploration of HDR processing, a technique that dominated landscape photography in the early 2010s. Rather than falling into the trap of over-processing that plagued much HDR work of this era, Urbano demonstrates restraint. The luminous gradations in the sky—from deep azure to wispy white—retain a naturalistic quality while revealing detail across an impressive tonal range. The turquoise waters of the Gulf of Mexico maintain their vibrancy without crossing into hypersaturation, suggesting an eye already sensitive to the boundaries between enhancement and artifice.

The technical choices reveal a photographer building his fundamental vocabulary. The aperture of ƒ/8.0 ensures critical sharpness from the foreground concrete to the distant structures, while the fast shutter speed of 1/400s freezes the subtle motion of the scene—likely the flutter of distant flags or the movement of the few figures visible along the pier. At ISO 100, the image maintains clarity in its textures, from the horizontal railings that create rhythmic lines to the architectural shelters that punctuate the composition’s middle ground.

What makes this photograph significant in understanding Urbano’s artistic evolution is not its perfection but its purposefulness. The nearly symmetrical composition, the careful attention to the leading lines, the consideration of how architectural elements frame the natural environment—these are the building blocks upon which more complex visual narratives are constructed. The weekly visits to this location mentioned in his notes speak to something essential in photographic development: the practice of returning, of seeing the same subject under different conditions, of learning through repetition.

The landscape itself offers something eternal—the meeting point of human construction and natural expanse. The pier extends confidently into the Gulf, a gesture of connection between land and water, between the photographer’s position and the infinite horizon. In capturing this scene, Urbano was not merely documenting a favorite location but engaging with fundamental questions about how we frame our relationship to place and space.

Within the broader context of “Beginnings,” this image exemplifies the necessary stage of mastering craft before transcending it. The imperfect attempts referenced in the chapter description are not failures but essential experiments. Here, we witness a photographer learning to see in high dynamic range, to compose with geometric precision, and to capture the luminous quality of coastal light—all foundational skills that would inform the more sophisticated work to come.

This is where journeys begin: in the clarity of intention, the discipline of practice, and the recognition that every master was once a student of light.

Lady in a Hat: A Study in Perspective and Presence

In 2013, Greg Urbano’s photograph “Lady in a Hat” encapsulated his experimental spirit in photography. Taken at a Veterans benefit car show in Florida, it features a classic car and a woman in a hat, illustrating the dynamic between subject and observer. This image showcases the evolution of Urbano’s artistry and HDR techniques, emphasizing compositional storytelling.

Black classic car with chrome wheels and open hood displayed at outdoor car show with woman in hat standing nearby under trees.
2013 was a breakout year for my photography. I was shooting a lot of car shows and post processing in HDR. This photograph I titled “Lady in a Hat” for obvious reasons. It was taken at a Veterans benifit car show held at the Bay Pines VA in Pinellas County Florida. Shot with a Nikon D5100.

In the early years of Greg Urbano’s photographic journey, there existed a willingness to experiment boldly with emerging digital techniques—a quality that would become foundational to his artistic identity. “Lady in a Hat,” captured in 2013 at a Veterans benefit car show in Bay Pines, Florida, exemplifies this experimental spirit while revealing an intuitive understanding of compositional storytelling that would define his later work.

The photograph presents a gleaming black classic car, its hood raised to display immaculate chrome and engineering, positioned at a dramatic low angle that transforms the vehicle into something monumental. But what elevates this image beyond typical automotive photography is the deliberate inclusion of a figure in the background—a woman in a distinctive hat, observing the scene. This compositional choice transforms what could have been a straightforward documentation of mechanical beauty into a meditation on observation itself, on the relationship between spectator and spectacle.

Urbano shot this image with a Nikon D5100 at 10mm, an ultra-wide focal length that creates pronounced perspective distortion. The technical settings—f/10 at 1/320s, ISO 160—suggest bright midday conditions, yet the photographer’s use of HDR processing pushes the tonal range far beyond what the camera captured in a single exposure. This was 2013, when HDR photography was experiencing widespread popularity in automotive and architectural work, and Urbano was actively exploring its possibilities. The processing intensifies the reflections on the car’s black paint, brings out texture in the engine bay, and maintains detail in both the bright Florida sky and the shadowed undercarriage.

What makes this image significant within the context of Chapter 1—Beginnings is not its technical perfection, but rather what it reveals about the photographer’s developing eye. The ultra-wide perspective could easily overwhelm the frame, yet Urbano maintains balance through careful positioning. The car dominates the foreground, grounded by fallen leaves and grass texture, while the human element remains present but unobtrusive in the middle distance. This suggests an emerging awareness of layered storytelling, of creating images that reward sustained viewing.

The title itself demonstrates artistic intentionality. “Lady in a Hat” redirects our attention from the obvious subject—the pristine classic car—to the peripheral human presence, suggesting that the photographer understood even then that compelling photographs often exist in the tension between primary and secondary subjects, between what commands attention and what quietly observes.

This photograph also documents a specific moment in Urbano’s technical education. HDR processing, with its characteristic emphasis on local contrast and detail recovery, taught photographers of this era to see scenes in terms of tonal relationships rather than single exposures. This training in visualizing extended dynamic range would later inform his approach to lighting and exposure, even when shooting single frames.

Within the broader narrative of the Top 100 Journey project, “Lady in a Hat” represents the necessary phase of bold experimentation that precedes refinement. It captures a photographer unafraid to push processing techniques to their limits, to shoot from unconventional angles, and to include elements that complicate rather than simplify the frame. These imperfect attempts, as Urbano himself acknowledges, formed the foundation for everything that followed—a reminder that artistic growth requires the courage to create before one fully understands how.

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.

Marie Selby Roots 2012
Black and white image taken at the Marie Selby Botanical Gardens in Sarasota Florida of a large Banyan tree roots. Taken with a Nikon D5100.

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.