I have been photographing wildlife in the Greater Yellowstone Ecosystem for over a decade, and every season teaches you something new. About the animals. About the land. About yourself. Summer moose have a different feel to them. They are quieter. Heavier. Still building. Still feeding. Still carrying that calm strength before the valley sharpens and the rut changes everything.

There is something about those mornings that feels bigger than a photograph. You drive out in the dark, not knowing if anything will happen. The Tetons are just shapes. The willows hold their secrets. Then, every now and then, the land decides to give you something.

That morning, it gave me him.

The light lasted maybe four minutes. That is the deal you make with this place. You show up again and again, and most mornings nothing aligns. Then one morning the bull steps into the right pocket of fading night, the willows open, the light catches the velvet just enough, and the whole season suddenly makes sense.

Packy Savvenas, Field Notes, 2021

The 35 Awards program recognizes the top wildlife and nature photographers working in the United States. Being named to this list for the second year in a row, and moving up in the rankings, means more to me than any single image. To me it reflects the work behind the frame. The repetition. The patience. The commitment to doing this the right way.

Wildlife photography is not luck. It is preparation, knowledge of animal behavior, and respect for the animals and the land. You do not chase the shot. You earn it. You learn the patterns. You study the terrain. You put in the hours. And when the moment finally comes, you are ready enough to receive it.

This recognition is for every photographer who gets up before the sun, drives into the dark, and waits without knowing if that day will be the day.

Usually it is not.

But sometimes it is.

And that is everything.