The Art of Golf Course Photography: A Journey of Light, Patience, and Passion

Hooked by a Book
It started back in college when a friend showed me a book of photographs by Edward Weston. His work was unlike anything I’d ever seen. My dad was an avid photographer, always carrying a 35mm camera on our family vacations and later projecting slides onto the living room wall so we could relive our adventures.
But Weston’s images were something else entirely — they were about seeing, not just recording. He celebrated landscapes, shapes, and fleeting moments of beauty that might soon vanish. I was captivated.
Soon after, I discovered the Whole Earth Catalog — a kind of pre-internet marketplace for dreamers and doers — and found what seemed like a great deal on a Chinese camera called a Nikkormat and a 70–210mm lens with macro capabilities. That purchase set my path.

Learning the Hard Way
I was fortunate to grow up just thirty minutes from Great Salt Plains National Wildlife Refuge, a stunning place full of open skies, salt flats, migratory birds, and mirror-still water at sunrise. I spent countless mornings and evenings there, learning to photograph light, shadow, and patience.
Back then, every click of the shutter cost money. You bought film, shot carefully, then mailed it to Kodak and waited ten days to see your results — for better or worse. There was no preview screen, no histogram, no Photoshop. Every mistake cost both time and money.
That constraint made me better. It forced me to visualize the final image before pressing the shutter. I learned to slow down, to pay attention, to anticipate. My goal was always to get the shot in-camera — to capture what I saw and felt without relying on fixes later.

The Breakthrough
I had been honing my landscape work for years when my big break arrived — and it came from an unexpected source. My friend Steve Braley, general manager at Oak Tree Country Club in Edmond, Oklahoma, called me one day. They had just completed a new Pete Dye course and were planning another. He needed photographs to promote memberships and home sites around the course.
Steve asked me to take a few “compelling photos.” I didn’t know then that those images would change my career. The club used my photographs in marketing materials and even decorated their enormous clubhouse with them. For a young photographer, seeing my work displayed like that was an enormous boost of confidence.

Discovering the Connection Between Golf and Landscape
I quickly realized that photographing a golf course was really an exercise in landscape photography — with a flagstick as the focal point. It was about light, composition, and emotion, not just documenting a hole.
To truly capture a golf course, I needed to understand its design. I began studying golf course architecture and befriending architects. I wanted to learn their language, their priorities, and what made each hole special. My thought was simple: if I could make the architects happy — if my photos reflected their vision — they’d introduce me to clients who wanted the same level of care.
That approach worked. And even after thousands of golf holes and decades of work, that early lesson still shapes everything I do.

Prepare and Receive What Is Given
My guiding motto has always been: “Prepare and receive what is given.”
When I arrive at a new course, I spend the first several hours scouting — driving every hole from 1 to 18, and sometimes in reverse, 18 to 1 — studying how the light falls, how the shadows move, and where the magic will happen. I take notes on a scorecard, marking the times I need to return to each hole. Then I wait. Patience is everything.Every course has a window — a fleeting period when the light, color, and atmosphere all align. My job is to be ready for that moment.

Seeing Through the Golfer’s Eyes
Over the years, I’ve found that the most compelling golf photographs are those taken from the golfer’s perspective. When someone looks at an image from that angle, they pause. They think about the shot. They feel the challenge. They might even mentally pull a club from their bag.
That moment of connection is what I strive for. I call these images “sticky” — the kind that make you linger instead of scrolling past.
Of course, there are times when I chase a spectacular sunrise or sunset just because nature demands it. But more often, I’m studying the course as a golfer would — asking, What makes this hole memorable? What makes this course different?

Underpromise. Overdeliver. Always.
After photographing more than 1,800 courses in over 50 countries, I’ve learned that each one has a unique sense of place— something that sets it apart. My mission is to find that essence and tell its story visually.
But just as important as the art is the business. My golden rule has never changed: underpromise and overdeliver.
Whether it’s a local club or a world-famous resort, I give every project everything I have. “Great” isn’t good enough. I aim for remarkable.

A Final Thought
Photography has changed immensely since those early days — digital sensors, drones, AI editing, instant feedback — but the fundamentals haven’t. It’s still about light, patience, and vision.What keeps me passionate after all these years is knowing that each photo, when done right, can make someone stop, breathe, and dream about the game we love.That’s the art of golf course photography. And it’s a journey I’m still on.

If this story resonates with you, explore more of my imagery and the philosophy behind Golf As Life at golfaslife.com. You’ll find collections that bring the beauty of the game into your home, office, simulator or clubhouse — each print crafted to remind us why we fell in love with golf in the first place.

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