Jani Westman Photography

18/07/2026

The Mill and the Milky Way
Jordhamn | Öland | Sweden

When Stefan and I travelled to Öland with our photography club in the autumn of 2024, we arrived one day before the others. We wanted to scout possible locations, especially somewhere with a strong foreground for the Milky Way.

At Jordhamn, we immediately saw the potential of the old scouring mill. It was used to grind limestone in the early 1900s, and its open wooden structure allowed us to see the sky through it. Now we only needed a clear night.

The first days brought rain and clouds. Then the sky suddenly cleared, giving us an incredible night of northern lights. After only a few hours of sleep, we noticed that the following evening was still completely clear and returned to Jordhamn.

The Milky Way appeared above the mill just as we had imagined during our scouting.

The only problem was the strong light across the Kalmar Strait from the Mönsterås industrial mill. I was afraid the light pollution would ruin the dark sky, but its warm glow found a place in the composition and helped separate the mill from the horizon.

This was also my first time using the Benro Polaris Star Tracker in the field. Setting everything up in complete darkness was not easy. When I examined the images later, I could still see some movement in the stars during the thirty second exposures.

I tried combining six frames with new software, but it added nothing to the image. In the end, I returned to a single exposure.

The stars are not perfectly still when viewed closely, so the result is not as technically perfect as I had hoped. Even so, I like it. It takes me back to standing beside the old mill and watching the Milky Way stretch across the sky.

We also believed we were alone. A caravan was parked nearby, and we assumed the family inside was asleep. We moved quietly while carrying our tripods around in search of compositions.

The next day, Anders and Hasse met the family. They had seen unknown people walking around their caravan in the darkness, placing glowing poles on the ground, and had been too frightened to come outside.

When Anders explained that we had only been photographing the Milky Way, everyone laughed.

10/07/2026

10/07/2026

09/07/2026

The Little Monster
Trelde Næs | Fredericia | Denmark

The day before, I had photographed the large and magnificent roots and tree trunks lying along the shore. When we returned the following day, we once again walked through the same tangle of trunks lying crisscrossed along the shoreline.

After a while, I felt that I was finished with the most obvious subjects and wanted to try to find something different.

As I looked around, I noticed a small opening beneath some of the trunks. I bent down and looked inside. There was a cute little monster that had taken shelter beneath the trees.

To enter its world, I placed the camera low among the stones. I needed to get close to the ground and photograph beneath the trunks.

The large tangle of fallen trees then became a small, self-contained world, where the trunks formed a roof.

The beach was full of beautiful stones. I liked the wide variation in color and shape, and the way they filled the ground beneath the trunks with detail. While I was standing there, a couple came over and asked what I was photographing. We started talking, and they told me there was plenty of flint along the beach. They had even found a tooth from a prehistoric shark. That detail alone made the place even more fascinating.

I used focus stacking to capture all the fine textures in the wood and stones. It was important to me that the image could be explored, from the closest details in the foreground to the darker areas farther inside.

It is easy to be drawn to the large and dramatic subjects in a place like this. But when I felt that I had already photographed them, I began to look at my surroundings in a different way. That was when the little monster appeared beneath the trunks, as if it had been waiting to be discovered.

All editing done in Lightroom Classic
Focus stacking done in Zerene Stacker
Sony A7RIV | f/7.1 | 1/10 sec | 24mm | ISO 100

// Jani

26/06/2026

Med blicken mot horisonten
Sandviksbadet | Järfälla | Stockholm

(English will follow)

Det finns något särskilt med att stå på en brygga och blicka ut över horisonten.

Jag tänker att människor i alla tider har stått vid strandkanter, på klippor och bryggor och gjort just det. Tittat ut över vattnet, följt linjen där himmel och vatten möts och låtit blicken vila där en stund. Det är lite samma känsla som att sitta framför en eld eller att titta upp mot en stjärnhimmel.

Man behöver inte göra så mycket. Det räcker att vara där.

Den här kvällen hade Stefan och jag fotograferat klart. Solen hade gått ner, men det fanns fortfarande lite varmt ljus kvar långt bort vid horisonten. Resten av landskapet hade gått över i det där blå kvällsljuset som jag tycker så mycket om. Vattnet låg lugnt framför oss och himlen speglade sig mjukt i ytan.

Jag tror många känner igen dragningen till en brygga. Så fort man ser en brygga vill man gå ut på den. Man vill stå där längst ut, eller slå sig ner en stund, och titta ut över vattnet.

För mig handlade den här bilden mycket om just det. Inte bara om utsikten, utan om känslan av att vara där. Därför ville jag ha med bryggan i förgrunden. Den gamla, slitna träytan gör att man känner platsen på ett annat sätt. Den blir som en fast punkt att stå på, medan vattnet, himlen och horisonten öppnar sig framför en.

Som så ofta när jag fotograferar letade jag efter en förgrund som inte bara fyller ut bilden, utan som hjälper betraktaren att komma in i den. Här blev bryggan ingången. Det var där vi satt en stund efteråt, fikade lite och bara njöt av lugnet innan det var dags att börja röra sig hemåt.

Det är lätt att tro att fotograferandet är över när den mera spektakulära solnedgången är klar. Men ibland kommer även bilder efteråt. När allt har blivit stilla. När man inte längre jagar ljuset, utan bara märker att det fortfarande finns något kvar att ta vara på.

Tekniskt använde jag mitt 24 mm tilt shift objektiv och shiftade objektivet nedåt för att få med bryggan i förgrunden. Där lade jag skärpan på träet. Sedan shiftade jag upp och lade skärpan på bakgrunden, himlen och horisonten. På så sätt blev bilden både ett panorama och en enkel form av fokusstackning, fast med bara två liggande bilder som tillsammans gav den kvadratiska formen.

Jag ville bevara den här stunden. Inte bara just den här kvällen, utan alla de där gångerna när fotograferandet är klart, kaffet kommer fram och man sitter kvar vid vattnet en stund till. Med blicken mot horisonten.


All redigering gjord i Lightroom Classic
Panorama och fokusstackning gjord i Lightroom Classic
Sony A7RM4 | f/7,1 | 5 sek | 24 mm | ISO 100


// Jani

---


With Eyes Toward the Horizon
Sandviksbadet | Järfälla | Stockholm

There is something special about standing on a dock and looking out toward the horizon.

People have done this throughout time. Stood by shorelines, on rocks, and on docks, looking out over the water, following the line where sky and water meet, and letting their eyes rest there. It is a little like sitting in front of a fire or looking up at a starry sky.

It is enough just to be there.

That evening, Stefan and I had finished photographing. The sun had gone down, but warm light remained near the horizon. The rest of the landscape had shifted into that blue evening light I love. The water lay calm in front of us, and the sky was softly reflected in it.

Many people recognize the pull of a dock. You want to walk out onto it, stand at the end, or sit down and look out across the water.

For me, this image was about that. Not just the view, but the feeling of being there. That is why I wanted the dock in the foreground. The old, worn wood becomes a firm point to stand on, while the water, the sky, and the horizon open up in front of you.

Here, the dock became the way in. It was where we sat afterward, had coffee, and enjoyed the calm before heading home.

It is easy to think that the photography is over once the more spectacular sunset has passed. But sometimes there are images afterward too. When everything has become still. When you stop chasing the light and notice that there is still something left to hold on to.

I used my 24 mm tilt shift lens for a two frame panorama. One frame was shifted downward and focused on the dock. The other was shifted upward and focused on the background, the sky, and the horizon. Together they also became a simple focus stack.

I wanted to preserve this moment, and all those times when the photography is finished, the coffee comes out, and you stay by the water a little longer. With your eyes toward the horizon.


All editing done in Lightroom Classic
Panorama and focus stacking done in Lightroom Classic
Sony A7RIV | f/7.1 | 5 sec | 24 mm | ISO 100


// Jani

04/03/2026

.
Outward Roots
Trelde Næs | Fredericia | Denmark

The shoreline was lined with trees that had fallen from the forest edge high above. They were scattered along the coast, shaped by the fall and the sea. We felt like children in a candy store. There were compositions everywhere and it was difficult to choose. At the same time, we did not have unlimited time, so we had to prioritize.

It was completely still when I stood there. The sea was calm, even though the surface carried small ripples. In front of me, the trunk stretched straight out into the water.

It was the root system that caught my attention first. The branches spread out like spider legs, a dense network of shapes that felt both chaotic and harmonious. The thick trunk led the eye toward the compact root mass in the water, and from there the branches continued outward, filling the frame.

I wanted that movement to feel clear. The trunk became the leading line into the scene. By cropping slightly at the top and bottom, I strengthened the sense of the branches expanding sideways and occupying the entire image.

The shutter speed settled at four seconds once I had chosen the aperture and ISO that I prefer. That exposure smoothed the small ripples on the surface and gave the water a soft, unified tone while keeping the texture of the wood present and tactile.

What puzzled me was how the roots ended up out in the water. The tree must have fallen from the height behind me and turned over to land like that. Nature works in its own ways, and we are left to observe the result.


All editing done in Lightroom Classic
Focus stacking made in Zerene Stacker
Sony A7RIV | f/7.1 | 4 sec | 14mm | ISO 100


// Jani

21/02/2026

.
Four Minutes of Stillness
Storebælt Bridge | Korsør | Denmark

This was not the subject we had come here for. Stefan was chasing something completely different.
But as soon as we arrived, I could see how the light was beginning to change everything.

Things moved quickly. Tripod up and an ND filter in front of the lens, so I could let the shutter stretch out over several minutes. The wind was strong and the sea was restless, but through the telephoto lens the bridge felt larger and more grounded.

Four minutes later, the exposure had transformed the rough water into a smooth surface in the image, even though the wind was still blowing around me. The light was still warm, almost glowing, and the bridge stood there as a dark silhouette against the sky. There is something special about those minutes when the day is about to let go. Everything becomes clearer and, at the same time, calmer.

In the middle of it all, something unexpected happened. Two porpoises surfaced just a few meters in front of me. I barely had time to understand what I was seeing before they were gone again. The camera was busy with its long exposure, and I mostly just stood there watching. Sometimes you simply have to experience the moment. It is one of those moments that reminds me why I photograph.

Light cannot be controlled. A moment cannot be repeated. You can be prepared, but you also have to accept that not everything is meant to be captured.

Have you ever experienced a moment like that, when you simply stood there and took it in?


All editing done in Lightroom Classic
No focus stacking in this image
Sony A7RIV | f/7.1 | 4 min | 135 mm | ISO 50


// Jani

21/02/2026

.
Fallen trees along the shoreline
Trelde Næs | Fredericia | Denmark

We had seen a video where the Danish landscape photographer Mads Peter Iversen photographed right here along the shoreline. Expectations were high and wow, we were not disappointed. The entire beach was lined with fallen trees, twisted and shaped by wind and water.

What struck me first was how the tree stretched out over the sea like a natural pier. The branches formed a network of lines against the soft sky. In the foreground lay another trunk, angled, crooked and full of details I wanted to highlight, so I moved in close. The moss, the dark seaweed and the subtle shifts in color made it come alive at close range. It leads the eye into the frame and further out toward the horizon where a dark strip of land rests like a thin line far in the distance.

It was a pale day with a grey sky. The wind was neither strong nor calm, only creating slightly rippled water, something between waves and a mirror surface. For me, that often feels cold and unwelcoming. The sky moved in blue-grey tones while the water carried a faint warmth. That difference made the scene feel more alive than the weather itself suggested.

I chose to mount my 16-stop ND filter and extend the exposure for several minutes. The water became soft and still. The tangled branches then meet the smooth surface, hard against soft, unordered against calm.

The foreground trunk kept moving in the small swell, so I also captured a series without the ND filter to freeze the motion and later combine the frames. That became my way of creating tension on a day that otherwise felt somewhere in between.

Along the left edge you can explore the exposed roots and the beautifully colored stones in countless subtle tones.

I like how the image holds both weight and lightness, the contrast between warm and cool, and between hard and soft.


All editing done in Lightroom Classic
Focus stacking done in Zerene Stacker
Sony A7RM4 | f/7.1 | 324 sec | 24 mm | ISO 100


// Jani

02/02/2026

.
Twisted Pines
Haverdal | Halland | Sweden

We had heard there would be twisted pines here, a bit like the “Troll Forest” on Öland that we visited a year ago. So when we arrived, I asked a jogger if he knew where the twisted pines were. He looked a little unsure about the question, but answered kindly, “Just go straight ahead a few hundred meters, then turn right.”

We did, and a little further on there was a big map of the area. But nowhere did it mention the twisted pines. Then two girls walked by and they looked like they knew the place, however you can tell that, and when I asked, they said, just as confidently, “Go straight ahead for a bit, then turn left.”

After wandering around for a while, it turned out they were both right. The whole area was full of these wonderfully distorted pines. I photographed to the right and to the left, wherever I went. I walked around for hours, until hunger finally won. My lunch box was waiting in the car.

On the way back, Stefan spotted a small opening in the forest. That was when everything fell into place. I smiled to myself at how I had been searching, when the subject had been there all along, everywhere. Still, it was that little gap that made the rest of the day feel unimportant. I could simply let go of all the other photos I had taken earlier that day, and keep this one.


All editing done in Lightroom Classic
Focus stacking done in Zerene Stacker
Sony A7RIV | f/7.1 | 1/25 sec | 24mm | ISO 100


// Jani

10/01/2026

.
In the eye of the world