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EXAMPLE PHOTO - TITLE/CATEGORY/LOCATION/FULL NAME OF PHOTOGRAPHER

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An incredible trip to be immersed in nature 

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An incredible trip to be immersed in nature 

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I took a trip to see the Zion national park in 2024. I was very amazed by how beautiful the martial can be.

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I am from a costal city which has great views. This is a photo I took when I went home during summer 2023.

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My roommate and I headed to Forest Park to see if we could catch a glimpse of the Northern Lights visiting St. Louis. It wasn’t long after we reached Art Hill that the sky began to transform—clusters of pink and green light smeared across the stars like wet paint. I feel incredibly lucky to have a sanctuary like Forest Park in the heart of the city, offering a rare escape from the glow of downtown to witness something so spectacular.

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The Yellow Crane Tower is one of the most famous landmarks of Wuhan and is celebrated as one of the "Four Greatest Pavilions" in the country. Famous poets wrote timeless masterpieces here, leaving behind a rich literary legacy that attracts visitors till this day.

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The picture of my hometown Suzhou, China

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This photograph was taken on a quiet, overcast day in the Lingering Garden (留园), my favorite among the four celebrated classical gardens of Suzhou. As a native, I’ve always been proud of how Suzhou’s gardens—like the Lingering Garden—are renowned worldwide for their harmonious blend of nature, architecture, and poetry.

The scene captures a serene corner of the garden, where a dark, still pond mirrors a traditional Chinese pavilion with its elegant tiled roof and intricate lattice windows. Lush trees frame the view softly, while a mother and her three kids sit peacefully on a bench under the pavilion, almost becoming part of the landscape itself. The overcast sky lent the moment a gentle, diffused light, muting the colors and deepening the sense of calm—a mood so characteristic of these timeless spaces.

What prompted me to take this picture was the quiet dialogue between stillness and life. I was drawn not only by the perfect reflection in the water but also by the a young mother and her three children resting there. In their intimate grouping—the mother seated calmly, with her children nestled closely around her—I saw more than visitors; I witnessed a moment of familial bond and quiet guardianship within a heritage that has offered peace for centuries. It reminded me that these gardens are not just relics of the past, but living spaces where generations connect, and where the sense of "home" is nurtured and passed down. That interplay of family love and enduring beauty is what I wanted to preserve: a quiet testament to why the Lingering Garden, and Suzhou itself, continues to captivate the heart.

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Between Where I Came From and Where I Am Becoming

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Between Where I Came From and Where I Am Becoming

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Taken in St. Louis during my time at WashU, this photo captures a quiet winter evening as the city settles beneath a soft, fading sky. An airplane passes overhead, a subtle symbol of movement and transition. For me, this moment reflects the experience of studying abroad—finding calm in a new place while slowly becoming someone shaped by distance, growth, and new beginnings.

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This photo captures the essence of a beginning. Taken on my first day at WashU, it frames a student walking across the sunlit lawn, backpack on, under a clear sky. Two empty chairs point toward her, leading the eye to the grand, Brookings Hall in the background.

What prompted me to take this picture was the profound sense of transition and possibility it embodied. The open space, the historic architecture, and the solitary figure together told a story—not just of a place, but of a pivotal moment. It wasn't merely a campus scene; it was the visual echo of my own feelings: the anticipation, the independence, and the quiet wonder of starting a new chapter far from home. This image, for me, is the perfect postcard—it holds both the beauty of WashU and the personal memory of a journey just beginning.

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Parvati Valley in Himachal Pradesh, India has very low population and it is scattered over a few villages on different mountains. I reached here after a thrilling hike where one wrong step could be detrimental.

I watched the mountains change colour and aesthetic throughout the night and the morning.

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Standing by the ocean in La Jolla, I felt small but peaceful at the same time. The endless blue water and open sky reminded me of how far I have come from home and how many possibilities are still ahead of me. As an international student (from Nepal), this moment felt special. A quiet reminder that new beginnings can be beautiful and full of hope.

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I took this photo a few months after moving to St. Louis. I was feeling homesick and slowly losing my sense of direction. But this scene grounded me—it reminded me to stay present and reignited my passion for photography, inspiring me to keep going

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This photograph captures the soul of Chennai—a vibrant melting pot of cultures where bustling streets come alive with people from every walk of life heading home after a long day’s work. As the sun sets, its golden light gently kisses the buildings, wrapping the city in warmth and quiet poetry

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This is from chicago, where I traveled to for Thanksgiving break. After a long day (and a frankly long and exhausting semester), my friend and I ended up deciding that we must see a body of water. We did, and we ended up staying there for 30 minutes, wordlessly staring at the waves in the freezing temperature and yet so warmly fulfilled inside. Definitely one of the highlights of my year here!

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August 22, 2025 - Missouri History Museum, Forest Park, St. Louis, Missouri, USA.

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History in Two Hues / Postcard / Missouri History Museum / Aadarsha Gopala Reddy

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History in Two Hues / Postcard / Missouri History Museum / Aadarsha Gopala Reddy

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I was heading to The Muny for Jersey Boys when the glowing History Museum and the striking, dual-tone sky stopped me in my tracks. With the horizon divided by a sharp line of blue and purple, the photography nerd in me couldn't resist. I had to pause, take in the beautiful contrast, and snap a photo before the light faded.

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Where the Light finds me/ Postcard/ WashU STL/ Isheeta Gupta

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This is the WashU campus in Fall 2024 (October).

A fleeting moment, autumn holding its breath, flames of red and the gold breaking through it. After the blizzardy winter, this light felt like an arrival. WashU became home away from home (7000 miles away). Sitting beneath trees set ablaze with color, I realized that change can be intimidating but also radiant. Studying abroad asks us to shed comfort and grow toward the light, and in this moment, I was watching transformation itself. In me, at WashU.

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Light Behind the mask/A little piece of home/India (home country)/Isheeta Gupta

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Light Behind the mask/A little piece of home/India (home country)/Isheeta Gupta

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Lockdown 2020. The world had grown quiet, but the hospitals did not. Sirens did not stop. Monitors did not sleep. Behind layers of fabric and fear, there were only tired eyes. But also determined eyes. A breath beneath the mask under the golden light. We were young. We were afraid. But we showed up. While the world counted cases, we counted heartbeats.

Some heroes wore masks. Some heroes stood beside me. And she is one of them. The Fighter.

This was taken during the COVID-19 pandemic when I was a medical intern at my university hospital, and we were called back from post-exam vacation to serve. Everything was new and we were anxious. It was hard to breathe under the heavy masks we wore and each day started in the hospital with uncertainty.

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This photo was taken from the terrace of the Getty Center during a two-week-ish family trip in LA. The image shows the iconic skyline of Century City with a gentle haze along the horizon - very poetic feature in LA.

In Korean culture, a 60th birthday is deeply meaningful as it symbolizes completion of full zodiac cycle. We traveled to celebrate my mother's 60th b-day, and visiting the Getty Center became one of the most memorable moments in our journey.

The trip also turned out to be our last family trip before my brother got married this year. The picture is not just a scenery but holds the warmth of shared experience.

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I took this photo during an ordinary dinner. I cooked pasta for us — a simple vongole made with Manila clams, which are comforting ingredients in Korean dining.

Living abroad, I learned to build my independence. I cooked this to show her that I can do well on my own, even far from home. I wanted to make her feel at ease and to give her a shared table that reflects where I come from and where I study.

Homesickness often comes in subtle waves — getting bigger during major moments in our lives. I often miss family dinners. Cooking this dish reminded me that home is not a distant place.

For me, this moment represents more than pasta on a plate — it goes beyond the plate. It shows attachment and growth — between the past that shaped me and the future I am building. I carry my family's presence with me. A little piece of home always lives in the people we love.

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A quiet road through the forests of Java, Indonesia.

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Standing on the soil that raised me,

engulfed within the forests I long to come home to.

I stand here in recognition of how far I’ve come,

and in acknowledgement of how far I still want to go.

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A man kayaking through Forest Park, St. Louis

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Autumn’s amber hues hinting at a year drawing to a close, as Forest Park quietly regains its vibrance and peace after May's tornado.

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This photograph was taken in Yichang, Hubei Province, China, during my visit to the scenic area of Sanxia Renjia. The lush green mountains were soaked through by mist, as if even the air itself carried the weight of moisture. A low veil of fog drifted across the river’s surface, moving slowly with the current. Beneath a red umbrella, a figure dressed in deep crimson stood alone upon a small wooden boat. The rain fell fine as needlepoints, piercing the water and scattering countless tiny white ripples. The boat rested quietly in midstream, not far from the shore — still, suspended, as if waiting, as if keeping watch.

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Captured along the La Jolla at sunset, this photograph documents the quiet transition between day and night. The sun hovers just above the horizon, not yet surrendered to the sea. The sky shifts from cool blue to soft gold and rose, casting a luminous path across the surface of the water.The light recedes gently, and the ocean does not resist, it receives the coming night with composure. In this suspended moment, nature speaks not through drama, but through stillness.

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Gateway Arch National Park, St. Louis, MO

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I used to walk past the Arch many times without thinking twice. But that night, the sky changed everything. Soft waves of purple and green light drifted above the city, something no one expects to see in St. Louis.

It didn’t feel dramatic or loud. It felt quiet. The Arch seemed to reach into the glowing sky, and for a few minutes, the familiar skyline felt almost unreal.

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Fen River Waterfront in Taiyuan, Shanxi Province, China

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The Fen River curves like an old sentence I’ve known by heart. Towers rise where smokestacks once defined the city's sky, yet the mountains remain, steady and unchanged.

Taiyuan is never just steel and skyline. It is water, distance, and quiet resilience. The bridge bends gently across the river, stitching past and present together.

In this view, the city feels both new and familiar -- like home that has grown up while I was away, taller and brighter, yet still carrying the same quiet rhythm in its water, the same outline in its mountains, the same place that recognizes me even after I’ve changed.

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Standing on the beach of California, watching birds flying by the setting Sun, my heart gained peace from schoolwork and classes