My goal with photography has always been to marry science and art for education. In May 2024, I thought, why not photograph every flower I can find on my parents’ one-acre land in Tabernash? Initially, I photographed familiar flowers like Colorado columbine (Aquilegia caerulea), black-eyed Susan (Rudbeckia hirta) and mountain harebell (Campanula rotundifolia). But the more I explored, the more unknown plants I discovered, such as twinberry honeysuckle (Lonicera involucrata) – 54 species
in total.

‘Backyard Transect’ is about biodiversity. I’m documenting how much truly grows on a small plot of land. I didn’t limit myself to native plants; I photographed everything, including invasives, because that’s the true picture.

I love small flowers because I can get super macro with them. They’re often overlooked as we walk toward larger, more obvious flowers. But pause to look closely and these tiny blooms, just millimeters wide, are everywhere. We also have a vibrant, thriving patch of eight columbine bushes, Colorado’s state flower, growing along our driveway.

Some flowers’ lifespans are fleeting. If I saw a flower one day and couldn’t photograph it, it might not be there the next – eaten or blown away.

I took my 94-year-old Baka – Serbo-Croatian for Grandmother – in a tiny side-by-side car we use for plowing snow.

She would spot flowers from the driveway and I’d check if I had photographed them. She sometimes saw things I missed. Multiple pairs of eyes are essential for finding all that biodiversity. After photographing, I made bouquets for her to enjoy.

I was careful not to encourage irresponsible behavior. Columbines are illegal to pick on public land, so I only cut flowers on our private property. I always ensured multiple plants remained, selecting a single “ideal specimen,” so I wouldn’t need to cut any more.

If there was only one flower, I left it to continue growing. I also only took one or two flowers at a time so they wouldn’t wilt quickly, allowing me to focus fully on capturing the image.

After cutting, I took the flowers indoors. Using a microwave-sized box lined with black paper inside an old TV cabinet, I created a small studio. For lighting, I used two external lights – one that can change colors to enhance the flowers’ character – and turned off all other lights. Shooting with my camera on a tripod, my shutter speeds ranged from one-fourth second to a full second. Everything was captured on my trusty 24–105mm f/4 lens at f/22, ensuring the entire plant stayed sharply focused.

I also used a magnifying glass with small metal arms and clips – usually for tying fly-fishing flies or assembling circuit boards – to magnify flower centers, highlighting the contrast between actual size and close-up detail.

In one columbine photo, I noticed a tiny green bug at the flower’s center only during editing. Such discoveries were delightful surprises throughout the project.

I’ve loved biology since middle school. At Colorado State University in Fort Collins, the environment was always my priority. I got my first camera to document studying abroad in southern Chile with the School for Field Studies. There, I learned the power of storytelling through photography – captivating others to engage with scientific insights.

I graduated with a bachelor’s in biological science, then earned a master’s in multimedia and photography at Syracuse University’s Newhouse School. My experience abroad remains my North Star: engaging curiosity with images to educate.

I decided to photograph everything in this project to represent both the good and the bad. Colorado’s ecosystems evolved together over time – each plant, insect, animal and fungus plays a role in balance. However, invasive species like scentless chamomile (Tripleurospermum inodorum) and ox-eye daisy (Leucantheumum vulgare) from Europe disrupt ecosystems because they lack
natural predators or checks and balances.

To combat invasives, plant diverse native species suited to your climate zone. With care, these native plants can rebuild ecosystems, eventually sustaining themselves.

Documenting Colorado’s complete flora statewide would be overwhelming – dry plants, mosses, lichens, hundreds of species. But even in my small corner of the state, seasonal drama is vivid. A wet spring yields certain flowers, while a dry summer brings others, like fireweed (Chamerion angustifolium) – the first plant to return after a fire.

Now, I’m constantly looking for new flowers. This project deepened my appreciation for the incredible biodiversity right here in my backyard.”