Sarah Marino: The Little Curiosities of Nature
Anyone can see the big picture, a grand landscape, a pod of whales, a field of poppies (though it takes a talented artist to make a pleasing composition). However, not everyone can see the small details, the “intimate landscapes” that lie within those larger views. It requires a different kind of talent and artistry to capture these smaller scenes within scenes in compelling ways. One of today’s foremost practitioners in this field is Sarah Marino. In addition to her photography, she also does online education, including video tutorials, e-books, coaching and online workshops. Marino enjoys speaking at conferences, like NANPA’s 2025 Summit (May 15-17 in Tucson, Arizona) where she’ll receive NANPA’s Trailblazer Award and present a breakout session, “How to Stand out in a Crowded Field.”
Nature’s smaller scenes
“I mostly focus on nature’s smaller scenes,” she says, “but I consider myself covering the full continuum of landscape photography. Sometimes I’m interested in grand landscapes, sometimes I’m interested in birds and wildlife. But I generally focus on the things like intimate landscapes, macro photography, and those sorts of subjects.”
Like many photographers, Marino enjoyed being out in nature, hiking and backpacking, then started bringing along a camera to document what she was experiencing. A dozen or so years ago, she was in graduate school, a full-time student with demanding, stressful work and no real outlet for relaxation. “I started realizing that the times that I felt the calmest, most at peace and more fully enjoyed my life was when I was working with my camera out in nature. I think that’s probably the reason that I initially started taking [nature photography] more seriously, because it was such a wonderful experience amid an otherwise very stressful life.”
And her interest in the small, intimate scenes? In part, “because the grand landscape light just doesn’t always work out. I would rather photograph a lot, do as much photography as I can depending on the conditions. I’ll flex, based on what I’m experiencing. If there’s a beautiful sky or the light is interacting with the landscape in a particularly interesting way and it’s working for a big, wide-angle scene, I’m happy doing that. Otherwise, I look for the details around me, trying to closely observe and see interesting intersections of shapes and lines, textures, repetition, little curiosities. Things that make me wonder ‘how on earth did that come to be.’ Things that are surprising about a landscape. I like filling in those wide-angle landscape photography gaps with these smaller details. I feel like I’m far more productive and really enjoy the process of connecting with the natural world through the smaller subjects.”

A recent rain has smoothed out and softened the surface of formerly weathered mud tiles in Death Valley National Park.
The Iceland challenge
Marino traveled to Iceland last June with her husband and fellow nature photographer, Ron Coscorrosa. It was their sixth trip to Iceland and they’d meticulously planned an adventure in the interior highlands with a rented four-by-four camper van. Unfortunately, the weather turned bad and it ended up being “incredibly cold and rainy. It snowed and some of the Ring Road was closed.” They had to totally change their plans and wound up at many of the iconic locations along the South Coast, places that they had been many times before, and that are photographed by just about everyone who visits the island nation. “We could have felt like, ‘oh, our trip is ruined.’ It was rainy and dreary and it seemed like we had maybe three hours of nice light the entire trip. But I came back with a portfolio of work that I feel is really an expression of how I connected with the landscape through of lots of small scenes, things that I haven’t seen before in Icelandic portfolios.”
“This constrained situation was kind of unpleasant and kind of disappointing yet still left me excited about that body of work,” she continued.

Reflected light on ice-covered sandstone terraces, with a fallen autumn leaf as a bonus. Zion National Park.
Collaboration on the road
The Colorado-based Marino works and travels with her husband, Ron Coscorrosa, spending a significant part of the year in their Airstream. “We can both work remotely,” she says, “so we can photograph during the day or on the weekends and also work. It works out really nicely.” She continues, “we have a lot of alignment in terms of how we like to spend our time. So, I think that’s just a huge positive in terms of my lifestyle. In terms of photography, we see the world in different ways. I generally enjoy photographing plants and those little details more. He has a lot more knowledge and interest in birds.”
There’s a bit of yin and yang here. Their eyes, their interests, their styles are different but aligned to the extent that they can do photography and travel together, each learning from the other’s strengths. “For example, I think he’s really good at seeing complex, wide-angle scenes that have a lot going on, but using shapes and lines and abstract composition concepts to organize all of that chaos into a cohesive scene.”
“I just don’t naturally see the world that way,” Marino says. “Being around him has, I think, definitely expanded my skill set in that particular area. Being around somebody on a consistent basis and seeing how they see light differently, how they see subjects differently, I think has pushed me to try some things that I might not otherwise have naturally tried. As a result, I’ve expanded my photography skills.”
While Coscorrosa has a regular, full-time job, Marino is the main person behind their business. Being able to bounce ideas off each other, talk through questions and techniques is a major advantage in their partnership. “If I’m working on an e-book, it’s nice to say, ‘can you read this?’ Or, ‘I want to check this idea with you.’ Or, ‘I saw this thing online that really that’s sticking in my head and I want to talk about it.’” The ability to have those conversations as they’re hiking or driving across the country has been invaluable. “I feel like we amplify each other and make each other better photographers.”

A snow-covered oak tree right after a heavy storm cleared. Zion National Park.
NANPA & the 2025 Summit
Marino says, “having an organization that’s thinking about the big picture and the future of the of the field is really helpful, as is elevating people that are doing interesting work and providing a forum for people to develop their skills at the Summit. I’m very excited about attending the first my first Summit because I love building community. The need for this type of convening became so clear during the pandemic—it was a real loss to not be able to meet people in person. I greatly appreciate the fact that NANPA is creating a place for people to get together, meet in person and build the connections that can make this kind of lonely endeavor feel much less isolated.”
That sense of community appeals to many nature photographers. “A lot of what I do,” Marino says, “is one way, where I’m writing and somebody is reading, but it’s not a dialogue.” You get a very different sense of who someone is when they’re in the room with you, compared to seeing that person in an online video. “That facilitates building more genuine relationships. I think those in-person connections are where you build long-lasting relationships and connect in a less stilted, much more genuine way. I think that all of those are reasons that I still put a lot of effort into connecting with people in person as much as I can.”
Catch Sarah Marino’s breakout session and make your own long-lasting, in-person connections at the 2025 NANPA Summit May 15-17 in Tucson, Arizona.