The Tree That Made Me Stop — A Quiet Moment in Panama

I almost walked past it.

That’s the thing about travel — you arrive somewhere new with a list of the photographs you think you’re supposed to make, and then the real one is standing off to the side, quiet, waiting for you to slow down enough to see it. This tree in Panama was like that. Nothing announced it. The light wasn’t dramatic. But something about the way it held the space made me stop, and once I stopped, I couldn’t leave until I’d made the frame.

I shoot a lot of my work on medium format — both film, on a few vintage cameras that are collectors’ items now, and digital medium format. People sometimes ask why I bother with the slower, heavier tools. The honest answer is that they force me to slow down too. You don’t fire off forty frames with a medium-format camera. You stand there. You look. You wait for the moment to settle. By the time I press the shutter, I’ve usually been with the scene long enough to actually feel it.

That’s really what I’m after — not the postcard version of a place, but the wonder and quiet beauty that’s easy to miss. A tree. A doorway. Fog holding onto a field. The world is full of these small, unguarded moments, and I think most of us hurry right past them. The camera is just my way of stopping.

This frame is part of my Places work, and it’s one I keep coming back to. If it speaks to you the way it speaks to me, it’s available as an archival print, made to last for generations.

More stories from the road soon. If you want to follow along between posts, I share new work on Instagram @joshkastan.

— Josh