My name is Marty Hulsebos and I've been a passionate landscape photographer since the late 1980's. Here is the story of this image.
The Prairie Sunrise
For years, I dreamed of capturing the Midwest in a way that felt like a revelation, a fine art photograph that didn’t require an exotic location but captured the quiet majesty of home. I envisioned a prairie sunrise with hay bales: the rolling fields, golden light, and dramatic clouds creating an image unlike anything before.
But the perfect shot was elusive. The challenges loomed large. Shooting into the sun brought extreme contrast—either the sun would become an overexposed blob, or the shadows would be lost in darkness. And timing? Hay bales linger for only days before farmers whisk them away. Add to that my quest for rolling fields under a sky kissed by just the right blend of clouds and light. It was a needle-in-a-haystack scenario that tested my patience for years.
Determination kept me going. I scouted dozens of fields, rising before dawn countless times only to find flat skies or no hay bales in sight. But I refused to give up. The Midwest has a soul worth waiting for.
Then one late June morning, my perseverance paid off. The air smelled earthy and fresh, tinged with the faint sweetness of cut grass. As I stood in the pre-dawn stillness, crickets sang their fading night song, and the horizon began to blush with pink and gold. I had found the perfect field—a gentle roll, dotted with hay bales like scattered coins. Above, a tapestry of wispy clouds promised texture without obscuring the rising sun.
As the first rays broke, I worked quickly, the dewy grass seeping through my boots. My tripod was steady, my settings dialed. I adjusted for every nuance of light, watching as the sun crested the horizon, spilling molten gold across the bales. My heart raced; I had only moments before the magic faded into ordinary daylight.
Click. Click. Adjust. Click.
And then, silence. I stepped back, knowing I had done it. The photograph glowing on my screen wasn’t just an image—it was the essence of the Midwest. The wind brushed my face, and the sun warmed the day as if nodding its approval.
It was a dream fulfilled, proof that beauty exists everywhere, and it can be captured even if it calls for determination and patience.
