SEPTEMBER 2025: IBARIONEX PERELLO
PHOTOGRAPH: PATIENCE
THE ASSIGNMENT BRIEF
From Ibarionex Perello: “I’m going to choose patience as my word. I apply it in a lot of my pictures, because the making involves a lot of patience. So it can be how you technically make a photograph, or how you find and stay with a subject. If someone can make a photograph which reflects what patience may look like, that would be very interesting to see, too.”
HOW TO ENTER. IMPORTANT NOTES ON FILE SIZE AND ENTRIES
Send your entry to stories@photowalk.show. Your picture should be 2,500 pixels wide, if possible, for online optimisation. Or send the full-resolution photo, which we will optimise. Feel free to provide text as well if you think it will help explain the location, context, etc. Please don’t add borders or watermarks, and be sure to send FULL URL links to your websites and socials so that we can link to your work on this assignment page. We’ll use a selection of photos you submit on our Photowalk Instagram to showcase your work to our community and help build connections.
Entries are shown below. Good luck!
Neale
IBARIONEX PERELLO
Make a photograph that involves patience, either in the making, or the subject.
MARY COLEMAN
This is a macro photo taken of a water drop on the petal of a flower. This process definitely requires a lot of patience and a bit of luck.
See more of Mary’s work on Smugmug.
DAVID HIGTON
Putting my thinking cap on when you announced this assignment, my first thought was to photograph Manchester Town Hall, complete with scaffolding and wrapping. I need to make some images of this to complete my Manchester now and then project; however, completion is at least a year overdue, and the current target is next August - I'll guess I have to be patient. However, your reflections on the connection between tranquillity and patience sparked a bit of inspiration, which led me to create the attached image.
I've been trying to perfect my sourdough baking skills since March of this year, after my better half bought me a couple of Kilner jars to use for cultivating the starter. For your other listener, you first have to make a starter culture from flour, water and the natural yeast present in the flour, and once this is fermenting nicely, then you can start baking. The starter cultivation takes several days of feeding with more flour and water, and this was easily achieved. Now onto making a loaf, and this really tested my patience, and it certainly wasn't a tranquil experience. Initial attempts gave a pleasantly sour loaf, but one which resembled a flatbread rather than the type of loaf you buy from your local baker. Trying different recipes gave improved results with some progression to the desired loaf, but I have to be honest that I did get a little frustrated at times. Then, in July came the breakthrough as I had my first success using a recipe from Bread Ahead - here's a link to their cookbook, should your other listener be interested. I can routinely produce a loaf, although this still needs patience as it takes about 36 hrs from the first feeding the starter to taking the loaf out of the oven, although most of the time you are waiting for the yeast to do its stuff, so there is plenty of time for photography, walking and listening to podcasts.
I have many images of my experience from my first loaf, and the loaf in the attached image (alongside my starter culture) began on Friday evening around 7pm, and I had my first taste by Sunday lunchtime. You’re meant to wait four hours post-bake to let the flavour settle, but patience escaped me. Such a shame we don't have smell-o-vision as you could enjoy the fantastic aroma! This whole journey to learn how to make sourdough loaves has been anything but tranquil, but did require patience!
JADE CALEGORY
Captured in the thick August air of the New York subway, where time stretches and patience becomes its own currency. I used a slow shutter to capture the platform, a space that fascinates me—caught between moments of stillness and chaos.
MIKE MILLER
Patience. It was made on September 16, 2025.
When the bugs have subsided in late summer and early fall, I like to sit on a rock on the shore of our lake, starting from about ten minutes before sunrise to about 90 minutes after sunrise, and again about an hour before sunset to ten minutes after sunset. I wait for the loons and other waterfowl to go by as I am obscured by a pine tree. I can go several days without making a single image. On this particular morning, a male merganser swam by at about 7:00 am from west to east. I made several images.
They were okay. I could have packed it in and went on with my day, but I decided to stay and see if anything else would come by. After an hour, this merganser came swimming back from the east. The sun was higher, there was no wind, the bird was lit from the side and the lake was like glass. I made several images and then it started paddling furiously with his webbed feet. I rattled off a few images in burst mode and this was one of them. Patience indeed paid off for me as this image will definitely make it into my year end calendar that I give to my wife for Christmas.
DREW BROWN
For the ‘patience’ assignment I have chosen a photo from Winnats Pass, Castleton in the Peak District. I arrived at 5am for sunrise and a possible temperature inversion. However, neither happened and the dark cloud coverage prevented any sunlight. The handful of photographers present began to leave, shuffling back to their cars disappointingly. I put the camera in the bag and decided to have a coffee,taking in the surroundings,now with the place to myself. The light beam that followed piercing through the cloud had me reaching for the camera with coffee splashing all around. I managed a shot just before the light disappeared,a little patience rewarded.
JEAN-MAURICE CORMIER
SIMON BLAKESLEY
I’d like to offer the attached image of Lady Aurora to be considered for the Patience assignment. A bit of a tricky one. Here’s the background on the creation of the image, the need for patience, and why I’m submitting it for your consideration. Given your interest in aviation, for background I’ve also attached an image of our aircraft (below). I arrive about 90 minutes before the flight crew and light it up for an “insurance” shot in the event there is no Aurora display.
Once or twice a year, the airline for which I am a photographer (Air North, Yukon’s Airline) offers an Aurora charter flight to tourists as one segment of their tour package. The three-hour flight departs my home airport of Whitehorse at midnight. On last week’s flight we climbed to 41,000 feet and flew north to cross the Arctic Circle. Crossing 66 degrees 33 minutes North, the flight crew notified the passengers. A celebratory splash of bubbly was offered by the Flight Attendants along with a certificate to acknowledge this geographic achievement. The anticipation and excitement in the cabin of what was hopefully to come was palpable.
While crossing the Arctic Circle is special, passengers on these flights are often from southern locations that never witness the Northern Lights. Seeing them is their main goal. Of course, these flights come with no guarantee given we don’t have a magic switch in the cockpit that will turn the Aurora on at our discretion.
As we head further north, as a crew we’re all a bit anxious. What happens if the Northern Lights don’t appear? How might tired passengers feel at 3am after three hours of flying in the dark Arctic night with no Aurora snaps to show family and friends? These are real fears as I’ve experienced a flight where you land, feeling a bit sheepish, as there were no Aurora to photograph. Thankfully, this has only happened once.
An hour into the flight, I left the cockpit and went back to photograph the Flight Attendant team in the galley. As I set up a remote flash with a blue gel to help create an Aurora-like ambience, one of the Flight Attendants called from the blacked-out cabin to hurry to a window. With a sigh of relief, our collective patience in the stratosphere was rewarded. Our fears were allayed with this magical display off our starboard winglet which continued for over an hour.
JOHN WAINE
Hoxton, London, June 2025.
I was drawn initially to the quiet elegance of the young woman in the foreground but then noticed the crazy girls behind her. I later spoke to them and made some portraits. They were a vocal group and great fun with bags of energy.
It wasn't until I was back home editing the photo that I realised the significance of both parties looking at their phones.
The group of girls were recording or maybe live streaming (ie broadcasting) whereas the young woman in the foreground was consuming content on her phone. The chances that she was watching them are remote but I reflected on the connectedness that phones and the internet provide, however near or far apart we are.
ALISON WAIGHT
When I heard this month’s assignment theme, I knew at once what I would photograph. I’d seen these figures so often in my walks past the pond in the local woodland. Come rain or shine, these men – and it is almost always men, sit patiently by the pond waiting for a fish. They come prepared for the long haul and for any weather – folding chair, waterproofs, flasks of tea or coffee, lunch boxes – maybe even a Garibaldi or two and after carefully preparing their lines, they sit back to wait…..
MARILYN DAVIES
Patience! I believe this is an essential skill for any genre of photography. As I'm still progressing through my 365 project, I am learning more and more about photography every day and the patience it takes to set up an image, especially when looking at still life. Concepts are many and varied, but they often come to you in a flash.
This image is called "Peeled". The concept came to me while I was peeling an orange. It took a little while to set up, but I'm happy with the result. It's a long exposure (4 seconds) with some light painting to ensure the bottom of the fruit had some definition. Patience in preparing the fruit, suspending the peel, making and editing the image.
See more of Marilyn’s work on her website.
MARK MACKAY
I was pondering what might be done to create a submission on “patience”. Given it’s spring at home I was hoping to create a double exposure photograph of a flower open and closed, but alas time ran out before I had to travel. I’ll save the idea for another day.
I now find myself in Rome - in the area of Trastevere. A little worse for wear, but that’s irrelevant per se, though it did make me ponder the idea of patience a little more. We chose the area to stay because it’s historic and facilitates walking.
It’s been some years, dare I say decades, since we ventured here. Despite now being on the “shoulder season” of tourism, it’s still really busy. We were looking for a break from the crowds. A quick search showed us that we were staying a short walk from the Orto Botanico.
Despite the warm weather (the temperature has been around the 30C mark), the gardens were largely empty, save for some workers and perhaps some university students … and of course us. It was difficult to believe that the gardens are so close to the the cars and mopeds that weave in among the people in the narrow streets of Trastevere, let alone a few kilometres from major tourist attractions where thousands of people jostle each other to hurry through seeing something from their various checklists of “must see while in Rome”. So much for the saying “dolce vita” for the tourists!
As we wandered around the gardens we noticed the many birds and small lizards, the lonesome squirrel and cat, and some fantastic views of the city. Thankfully we also encountered various places to sit.
One of these benches had its own short path off the main walking trail. Filtered light from the surrounding plants was showering the bench. The seating was just patiently waiting for someone to come and admire the view. But alas, how often it must sit unused as the masses ignore the opportunity to avoid the crowds and get a little peace and quiet in this beautiful garden.
I wanted to capture the light filtering through the leaves and plants, and the bench someway down the path. The lonesome bench faces towards the centre of Rome and patiently awaits the next tourist or local in need of some great views or just some solitude with nature.
I suggest the photo be titled The Patient Bench.
See more of Mark’s work on his Instagram.
ALLIN SORENSON
I saw this walking in a downtown neighborhood. As a dog lover, this one speaks to me because the patient, hopeful gaze of this Lab reminds me of so many of my own dogs over the years who were always waiting for us to return. Dogs definitely have their priorities straight. Looking forward to spending time with loved ones is so much more enjoyable than trying to distract ourselves with constant noise from the outside world.
BRICE WHITTAKER
The shot I am submitting today was taken at a rain forsest look out, about an hours drive from my home town. Admittedly I find the concept of 'patience' a little challenging to capture, but I believe this shot encapsulates it rather well. Besides the patience it takes for me to get to this particular location, there is also a slight hike involved to get to this specific look out. I would like to add that there is also a sense of patience in the art of capturing the photo itself, as I had to wait for a car to drive into frame. It is barely visible, but I assure you it is there. I took a rather literal approach with this assignment, but hopefully the photo can speak for itself.
See more of Brice’s work on Instagram.
MARTIN PENDRY
As I boarded the Pinstripe Express to Gatwick, bound for Ischia in the Bay of Naples, I tuned into a podcast that sparked a thought for this month’s theme: patience. It also touched on the subject of kindness—or rather, the lack of it—something that feels more noticeable in this post-COVID world and the rise of faceless, non-brick-and-mortar businesses on Google.
I began to wonder what image might capture the spirit of patience. Would it be the kids and dog on the school run balanced on the ‘ape’—the “bee,” as the Italians call their beloved scooter? Or perhaps a fleeting glimpse of a three-wheeled scooter-van or taxi buzzing through the narrow streets? These moments appear and vanish as quickly as unicorns. At Easter, I was lucky enough to photograph a goat perched on the back of a scooter-van at the beach, being taken for a walk—surely the ultimate “goat-getter.”
While wandering through Ischia Ponte, I tried to frame the castle through an open doorway when a woman appeared and asked what I was doing. I explained, and she simply said, “Come with me.” She led me through her garden to her own doorway, which opened straight onto the beach, offering a stunning view. That unexpected act of kindness felt like a secret passport to hidden gems.
Returning to patience, though—this is perhaps most owed to our partners, families, and friends. They wait as we photographers stop, reframe, linger, and chase that perfect image. My husband saunters on, and eventually I catch up, arms full of pictures like treasures. His patience deserves a medal—or at the very least, an excellent coffee.
See more of Martin’s work on Instagram.
JADE LEE
My cat, Faith, is an indoor cat, but I've recently been letting her outside with me in the morning to sit on our verandah. It gets lots of sun and she loves to steal my seat while I sit on the concrete step.
Unfortunately, she now spends a lot of her time indoors, sitting at the door, dreaming of the outside world and staring at the door handle. She then turns around and looks at me, meows very distinctly and then stares back at the handle. This, to me, is the very epitome of patience. I also think I may have created a monster! My photo is called, 'Waiting patiently.'
You can find more of Jade’s project work on this website.
CHRISTOPHER PARSONS
There’s been this bit of construction in Toronto for the past year or two, and I’ve regularly been coming back to this scene every couple of weeks in the hopes that the light would fall just right, with a subject, and posters that were interesting in the scene. I had hopes that if I just kept coming back — time and time again — that I’d get something out of it, ultimately, that I really liked. Patience, in this case, was just putting in the work and seeing the potential of a scene and returning regularly until it produced what I knew was latent in the scene.
See more of Christopher’s work on Glass, and his website.
AXEL TRAPP
Do you know that moment when you come home from an early mountain hike and every cell in your body is crying out for food? That was one of those moments I captured with this photo.
Patiently waiting for the food to cook in the oven. The reward for our patience was deliciously hot, fragrant and filling.
See more of Axel’s work on his website.
JOHN WAINE
I was attracted to record this scene in London's Battersea park as an example of a small boy's total belief that his Dad can fix things. And that requires patience on both their parts. The bike being 'parked' on the double yellows was a nice extra twist.
ADRIANO HENNEY
Here is my last-minute submission to this month’s Assignment - "Raindrop & Web”. It's think this reflects the subject of the Assignment in a couple of ways: First, it captures the product of the patience and persistence of the spider in creating the web using the natural fold of the leaf to trap its prey; secondly, the patience in making the photograph itself. I needed to find an appropriate balance that focused on the central raindrop whilst at the same time including the smaller droplets, sufficient to describe the strands of the web and give the impression of a burst of light. Oh, and there was also waiting for the breeze to subside enough to acquire the image….
ROBERT DANN
This month's contest had me digging way back in the archives for a shot I made of fathers waiting for their sons and daughters to race their micro racers in Groton, New York. While the youngsters were pumped and ready to go, their dads waited patiently for their opportunity to shine.
See more of Robert’s work on his website.
