When I go out and photograph I sometimes do so with an idea in mind, and so I time my visit to a particular place when the seasonal or lighting conditions will (I hope) be helpful.

A good example of that is the picture shown here of rock formations on the North Yorkshire coast. These are only easily visible at a low spring tide, and the quality of the light works best (in good weather) only late on a midsummer evening. Thus, taking the tide into account, and favourable weather, the window of opportunity is narrow, perhaps typically no more than five or six days a year when conditions will be good.

But even when I do go out with a picture in mind, just how the final result will look, or indeed what I will actually photograph, remains a mystery to me until I am out there. It is often the case that, if I expect to be doing a vista I will end up working on a detail, and if I hope to do a detail, it is the wider view that catches my eye. Calculation ultimately plays only a small part, and although my pictures may seem quite 'worked' the inspiration to shoot them is usually quick and fairly intuitive. Because quality of light is often a fleeting commodity in the UK, it is important to be able to work quickly and decisively, especially when the camera in use is a cumbersome tripod-mounted wooden 5x4inch field camera like mine!

Of course, it is not only a question of reacting to what you see, but better if possible, anticipating what may happen as the sun makes its way through the sky and the clouds form and reform to moderate and shape the light (see Quiraing pathway picture, above). Knowledge of weather patterns is helpful, but not even the MetOffice can accurately see more than a few hours into the future, so instinct is important here too. Saying that, some pictures can be made in quite dull conditions, such as the Etive Gorge picture (below), and details are often best made in the shade. Glen Rosa water is an example of that.

While quality of light is important, composition, and a feeling for the shapes, textures, colours and atmosphere of the place matter just as much. I try and respond to the conditions, and open myself as far as I can to all the infinite number of possibilities that surround me as I walk through the landscape. My goal is to distill the essence of the experience, to condense the idea into a single strong image.

To me, setting up a camera on a tripod to record a view (of a small or large part of the landscape) is very similar to setting up a painter's easel, and painting a landscape on canvas. I try and apply many of the same thoughts and ideas as a painter might. Of course, the camera is quicker, so there may well be time to shoot several images in the course of a few hours outside. But to take the approach of focussing (metaphorically speaking) on the individual moment, and aiming to make every picture better than the last one can be a productive mindset. A common mistake is leaving an idea undeveloped, 'undercooked'! Time is one of our most precious resources, and it is tempting to rush in photography. Better to slow down and take more time to squeeze every last bit of balance, shape and meaning from a composition. Having said we need to be decisive earlier, this might seem rather contradictory! Perhaps it helps emphasise that what we really need is a judicious blend of decisiveness and thoroughness, a determination to spare no effort making each picture the best it can possibly be.

Because I love wilderness and wild places I do tend to concentrate on such landscapes, and to emphasise those qualities I admire the most. It is not obligatory to respond to beauty, to space, movement and energy in the landscape... those just happen to be some of the things that interest me, and allow me to express my ideas about life through the landscapes in which I walk. It is for everyone to define their own style and vision, based on what they find most moving, interesting, vital, significant, or compelling in what they see. The most satisfying way to approach photography is to seek and follow your own path.

Some will plan particular pictures as if conducting a military campaign; others will simply wander with very little idea of what to expect, and just react instinctively. In practice, I employ a blend of both approaches, and that seems to work quite well.

Unite with amateur physicists and photographers at the Cheltenham Science Festival! Discuss the fundamentals of light, explore artistic ideas and discover what you actually need to know to take the perfect photograph with Joe Cornish (Wednesday June 4th, 7-8pm at Cheltenham Town Hall). Bring your camera and practice your newfound skills in the garden afterwards. More information on http://cheltenhamfestivals.com

Written by professional landscape photographer Joe Cornish. Find more of his work on his homepage http://www.joecornish.com/