Jay Kinghorn learned the principles of photographic composition as a child, when his mother shared her passion for collecting antique postcards with him. After studying Eastern Religions and Philosophy in college, he took an extended trip to the Far East, where a trip to Cambodia’s killing fields inspired him to take images that would convey his sense of anger and pain. In the 1990s, Kinghorn worked as an assignment and fine-art photographer before making a career move to become a digital imaging consultant. He now lectures and presents for the Utah Chapter of the International Professional Photographers Association, the IPSW, and ASMP Colorado. Kinghorn has also played an important role at the Rocky Mountain News, helping the paper digitize its photo department. He is the author, with Jay Dickman, of Perfect Digital Photography.

This picture was taken in winter 2006 in Yellowstone National Park. Although I live in Colorado, I’d never been to Yellowstone before. My wife and I drove there and stayed in a cabin recommended by a friend. I really wanted to see bison because I’d never seen them up close, and they’re such an iconic feature of the American West. Growing up in Colorado, I’d learned about how Native Americans would follow the bison herd and use it as a natural resource, eating the flesh and using the hide for clothing and shelter. I had an appreciation of the role bison played in the early days of the West. I think I also have an affinity for them because they’re large vegetarians, like me.

Before I left, I had an idea in my mind for a shot of a bison in the snow. I wanted to show how these majestic animals are out in the elements, weathering storms over the winter. I knew I wanted a tight shot. Generally, when you see a shot of a bison, it’s an image of a big animal standing in a field. Wide angle tells a better story overall, but it doesn’t have that quality that stops people in their tracks.

The first day we went into the park, the sun was out and the photos I took didn't capture the bison's character very well. The light was too harsh. A couple of days later we got a good snowstorm: the roads were icy and snow-packed, but we drove in anyway. This bison was hanging out close to the road and the rest of his herd was further back, grazing in the snow. The road was on an embankment above him, so I stood there while my wife kept a lookout for cars. The bison was aware I was there; he was keeping a wary eye on me, and I on him. They’re quiet creatures but they can charge you if you get too close—and having a 3,000-pound animal charging at you is generally not a good idea.

I shot this on the Olympus EVOLT E-500, using the Zuiko ED 300mm f/2.8 lens with a 1.4x teleconverter. The teleconverter adds another 120mm focal range to the lens, taking you up to 420mm. I was at 100 ISO with an aperture of f/6.3, and the shutter speed was 1/160th of a second. Actually, that’s a combination I wouldn’t generally recommend; the shutter speed seems too slow for that lens. Somehow, though, it worked. I was using a monopod, which helps.

I like this shot because the bison looks contemplative, and you can really see the detail and texture in his horns. The snow highlights the fur on top of his head, and his eye really stands out. It’s naturally monochromatic, which suits the subject. I think it brings out the character of the bison—this gentle, shaggy giant. He and his kind used to be so prevalent in the West, and now they’re isolated to a few pockets of land. The days of the large bison herds are probably gone forever.