Stillness hangs in the valley. Light filters through the fog like breath, soft and golden. Somewhere, distant animals move silently along a hillside. I’m alone with the land, the cold, and the quiet click of the shutter.

Misty mornings below Te Mata Peak are not unusual — but they are never the same. These four images are the result of multiple early starts, cold fingers, and a good deal of waiting. But more than that, they reflect something I keep chasing: that elusive combination of light, air, shape, and feeling.

Another Way of Seeing

As I’ve written before here, in recent years I grew restless with simply capturing the classic scenic views — even in a place as beautiful as this. So, I developed a complementary way of working — one that looks beyond the obvious and seeks a more interpretive response to the landscape.

That approach led me toward a more interpretive style of photography — one focused less on documenting the landscape and more on expressing the mood within it. I became drawn to atmosphere, to form, to the subtle language of light and shadow. These fog-filled mornings offer the perfect canvas for that.

When I work this way, I’m not asking, “How do I show this place?” so much as, “How does this place feel?” and “How can I convey that feeling through composition, light, and tone?”.

It’s an approach that changes how I make decisions — from the timing of my shoot, to lens choice, framing, and post-processing. It adds another layer to my photography practice, complementing the grand, scenic images with something quieter, more atmospheric, and often more personal.

This change has influenced every decision I make: when I shoot, which lens I choose, how I frame a scene, and how I process the final image. It’s no longer about the where — it’s about the why.

1. The Land’s Quiet Dreaming

Golden mist over rolling hills in Tukituki Valley, Hawke’s Bay, New Zealand, with scattered trees and grazing cattle in soft morning light – landscape photograph by Jos Buurmans.

In this first image, I arrived at the top of Te Mata Peak to find the valley below still blanketed in fog, but the sun was already starting to push through. As the light gently climbed across the contours, layers of trees began to appear — each softened by distance and vapour. I wanted to capture that sense of reveal — where each tree felt like it was emerging from a memory.

Technically, I shot this with a long lens (in the 400–500mm range) to compress the layers and isolate tree shapes within the folds of land. Exposure was metered carefully to retain detail in both highlights and shadows, and the final toning emphasised the muted golds and cool undertones of the receding fog.

2. Order in the Mist

Foggy morning landscape in Hawke’s Bay, New Zealand, with two symmetrical rows of bare trees fading into golden mist – atmospheric nature photograph by Jos Buurmans.

The second image was one of those moments that stops you in your tracks. A double row of trees revealed itself, almost like a page from a storybook — the formal rhythm of trunks, one tier above the next, fading gently into atmospheric perspective.

Compositionally, this image relies on symmetry and vertical echoes. I placed the lowest row along the bottom third and let the repeating forms draw the eye upward into the fog. Shooting into the light helped soften outlines and create depth. Post-processing focused on adjusting the exposure towards high-key and enhancing separation without losing that dreamy softness that mist brings.

3. Horses and Trees above the Mist

A foggy morning landscape in Hawke’s Bay, New Zealand, with trees that rise like silhouettes above the fog and a small group of horses on a sunlit ridge in the foreground – atmospheric nature photograph by Jos Buurmans.

This third image was shot on an early morning, just after sunrise while mist was flowing gently through the rolling foothills of Te Mata Peak, softening every edge and contour.

I had composed a vertical image that would include the diagonal lines to serve as visual steps towards the trees in the background. And I was witnessing the flowing mist and wait for the right moment to press the shutter. Then, on a sunlit ridge just above the mist line, a small group of horses appeared, grazing peacefully, their forms adding life and scale to the otherwise hushed scene.

In this dreamlike landscape, early morning mist flows gently through the rolling foothills of Te Mata Peak, softening every edge and contour. Trees rise like silhouettes above the fog, their delicate branches catching the golden slant of the low sun. On a sunlit ridge just above the mist line, a small group of horses grazes peacefully, their forms adding life and scale to the otherwise hushed scene.

I was struck by the contrast between their grounded presence and the ethereal atmosphere surrounding them. Technically, this one required quick adjustments — the horses didn’t linger. I chose a fast shutter speed to freeze the moment, and I carefully balanced highlights in post to avoid losing texture in the fog or hillside.

4. Golden Mist in the Tukituki Valley

Foggy morning landscape in Hawke’s Bay, New Zealand, where bare trees, stripped of their leaves by the cold season, emerge from the mist in a hilly landscape – atmospheric nature photograph by Jos Buurmans.

This final image might be the most painterly of the set. Here, the light wasn’t directional so much as diffused. It fell gently across the valley, catching the verticals of tall poplars and the undulations of the land. I was aiming to preserve a sense of scale and stillness — as though the valley itself had exhaled.

To achieve this, I focused on a wider composition than usual, but still using my tele lens at about 300mm, to capture the rolling context. Aperture was set to f/11 to keep everything acceptably sharp. Colour grading in post was subtle — just enough to enhance the amber tones without overwhelming the natural mood.

Making These Images

All four photographs were taken within a few hundred metres of each other on Te Mata Peak. Planning involved checking humidity forecasts and valley temperatures to anticipate mist — but ultimately, nature decides. (see my earlier article on understanding and predicting mist and fog).

Every morning like this demands patience, mobility, and attention. I usually arrive before sunrise, find a high vantage point, and watch the light evolve. It’s a process that involves both intuition and preparation — knowing your gear, reading the light, and responding quickly when conditions align.

And it’s a great project to try at a location you can return to often — giving you the chance to shoot, process, review, learn, and then return to shoot again. Over time, you start to see subtle variations you might otherwise miss, and your understanding of light, weather, and composition deepens with each visit.

Why I Keep Returning

These misty mornings are more than photographic opportunities. They are quiet reminders of the beauty that lies just beneath the surface — waiting to be seen when light and landscape align. There’s something profoundly meditative about standing still in such silence, watching the world reveal itself one layer at a time.

For me, making these images is not just about recording what’s in front of the lens — it’s about translating an experience into something others can feel. It’s this artistic response to place that I’m seeking now — not just pictures, but visual poems.

If these photographs carry even a fraction of the stillness and wonder I felt while making them, then I’ve succeeded.

Selected images from this series are available as Fine Art Prints in my online shop, including Signature Limited Editions.

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Golden Hours: Four Mornings in the Mist

Stillness hangs in the valley. Light filters through the fog like breath, soft and golden. Somewhere, distant animals move silently along a hillside. I’m alone with the land, the cold, and the quiet click of the shutter.