Taking good, “nice” photographs of beautiful surroundings is like shooting fish in a barrel when you live somewhere as beautiful as Switzerland. Even going for a lunchtime constitutional with an iPhone in your pocket, you can take a couple of snaps of the magnificent lake view. Share them on social media, where they get lost in the infinite, never-ending stream of similar, dull photos. Too many beautiful scenes every day become the norm.
Having a discussion with friends a few days ago reminded me of the kind of photography which I find fulfilling. One day, I will be dead and gone, and my photos will be lost to the mists of time. There are only two reasons for me to take photographs. As a reminder of a time, place or person; or for the sheer enjoyment of looking at a photo and finding it interesting.
To hell with what other people think. When I stop to think about it, it’s the photos I take for myself, which I find interesting, which are “my best photos”. If others don’t find them interesting, well, it doesn’t really matter in the end, does it?