I hunker down far from the trail behind a jagged black rock that I have chosen as much for protection as for position holding onto the base of the camera tripod riding out a strong gust of wind that lifts the water off the cascades of the stream, numbing my fingers and clouding my lens. The draft of wind and mist pass, I ease my grip on the tripod, wipe off the water droplets from my lens, and busy myself setting up for the next shot.

Our quarry, our big game trophy, the prize I would hang proudly on my wall, this chill morning, as the darkness of the evening slowly lifts, the stars fade, and the sun tries to make its grand entrance, is to catch the orange-pink reflections off of the “Torres del Paine” and pink hues of the surrounding shroud of clouds, with the cascading river serving as the foreground element, in this dramatic composition that is the lion, the elephant, the water buffalo of the hunt, on this photographic safari.

All elements of the composition have to come together, to catch big game, the perfect picture. Too many clouds would obscure the mountain and the morning sun preventing illumination of the face of the monolith and spires in front of us. No clouds or too few clouds would omit a key element of drama. The hunter must be as impeccable as nature. Droplets on the lens would splotch the image. Strong winds shaking the mount could blur the image. Wrong exposure, wrong filter, bad timing, failure to clean the lens, wrong lens, battery out of power, memory card full, inattention to changing conditions could spoil the hunt.

Nature delivers, the clouds do not obscure the peaks nor block the sun at the horizon, the sheer face of the monolithic peaks illuminate. I fire off shot after shot, setting the timer, waiting for the gusts of wind to pass, taking care to wipe the lens, changing exposures methodically so each image will have a slightly different amount of light. The spectacle only lasts about ten or fifteen minutes. The mountain face returns to its granitic colors, the sun rises well above the horizon, and the big game turns from lion to a hyena, an elephant to a gazelle, a water buffalo to a warthog. The hunt is over for this morning, there is nothing to do now but retreat from my off the trail outpost, and hunt for photographic game more subtle and subdued, looking for the extraordinary in the more ordinary.