Why I Never Skip My Boots at Sunrise — Autumn in East Tennessee with the X‑T3
It’s 5:30 a.m., my alarm chirps in the dark, and I hear the faint rustle of leaves outside my window in Newport. Autumn is here — the golden edge of the Appalachian ridge is whispering change. For me, that means one thing: boots on, camera in hand, gym bag in the trunk.
In my work as a photographer‑cinematographer I’m always balancing two elements: strength and creativity. The body moves, the lens moves, and when they move together, magic happens. In the heart of East Tennessee, where the landscapes shift with the seasons and the light drops just right behind the hills, I find a rhythm.
I’m shooting with my Fujifilm X‑T3 — a reliable partner. The 16‑80 mm lens (yes, the one I’ve carried across trails, gym lockers and airports) is mounted. Balanced, nimble, doesn’t slow me down. The forest trail awaits, the lake glimmers, and I remind myself: shooting isn’t just about the perfect frame — it’s about showing up when the world is asleep, when the dew still gathers on boots, when the air tastes like wood smoke and ambition.
I start with a short circuit workout in the car park: bodyweight moves, boots gripping frost‑touched pavement, heart pumping. Why? Because creativity flows best when the body’s alive. Then I hike a trail near Panther Creek or skirt the lakeshore of Cherokee Lake. The leaves are turning, the light is softer, fewer people around — ideal for thoughtful photography.
I set my frame: boots in the foreground, gym bag at my side, autumn trees ablaze behind. I crouch low, latch onto the mood. The lens opens, I capture the snapshot: a man in motion, a body that loves movement, a camera that loves stillness.
Later, reviewing the files in lightroom, I see more than a photo of boots and leaves. I see intention: travel, style, fitness, creativity converged in one frame. That’s the story I want to tell.
If you’re a creator, an athlete, a traveler — show up before sunrise this fall. Strap on your boots. Take your camera. Walk until the forest hushes around you. Let your gear serve your vision. Let the season sharpen your senses.
Because when the body and the lens are aligned, you don’t just shoot a picture. You live it.