Saswat Panda is a nature photographer from Atlanta, Georgia, who is on a mission to remind people just how wild the world still is. His photos, ranging from close-ups of dragonflies in southern swamps to sweeping mountain vistas, blend raw beauty with real storytelling. With a background in environmental science, Saswat brings an informed, intentional eye to everything he shoots.
After graduating from the University of Georgia with a degree in Environmental Studies, Saswat began his career in conservation, working with nonprofits dedicated to land preservation and biodiversity protection. Over time, his love for photography grew, and he realized it was the perfect medium to amplify the voices of threatened landscapes and the species that call them home. He transitioned into photography full time, bringing with him years of ecological experience and a passion for education.
Now, whether he is tracking red wolves at dawn, waiting out a thunderstorm in the Smokies, or kayaking through marshes for the perfect sunrise shot, Saswat is focused on capturing moments that make people pause and connect emotionally to the environment.
His work has been featured in National Geographic, Nature Conservancy Magazine, and across digital platforms. He shares behind-the-scenes content and educational tips on Instagram and YouTube, where he also discusses gear, composition, and wildlife ethics.
Saswat regularly leads workshops for aspiring outdoor photographers and collaborates with conservation organizations. His debut photo book, Still Wild, is currently in production and will spotlight endangered habitats throughout the American South.
Your career path is a unique fusion of environmental science and art. What inspired you to make the leap from working with conservation nonprofits to becoming a full-time nature photographer?
It was less of a leap and more of a natural progression. While working with nonprofits, I realized that scientific reports, as crucial as they are, don’t always connect with people on an emotional level. I saw that photography could be a powerful tool for storytelling, a way to bridge the gap between hard data and genuine feeling. I felt a strong call to use my passion for visual art to inspire a deeper love and a sense of responsibility for the planet.
What’s one of the biggest misconceptions people have about being a nature photographer?
The biggest misconception is that it’s all glamour and adventure. People see the final image and imagine a beautiful, effortless moment. The reality is often uncomfortable and grueling. It’s about immense patience, long waits in harsh weather, and many days returning with nothing. The work is physically demanding and emotionally challenging, but those rare, perfect moments make all the struggle worthwhile and teach you profound lessons about resilience.
You talk about the “do no harm” philosophy. For someone just starting out, what’s the first ethical guideline they should always follow, regardless of the photo opportunity?
The most fundamental rule is to respect your distance. Never approach an animal so closely that it alters its behavior. A wild creature should never feel threatened by your presence. The beauty of a long lens is that it allows you to capture intimate moments without intrusion. If a shot requires you to compromise the animal’s comfort, it’s not a shot worth taking.
You’ve been to so many incredible places. Is there one specific moment or encounter in the wild that changed your perspective on your work or life?
I was in the Sonoran Desert, trying to photograph a specific type of cactus wren. After days of waiting, I decided to put the camera down and simply sit. A lone lizard appeared and just sat there with me, perfectly still in the quiet of the morning. It was an ordinary moment, not a photograph, but it taught me about the profound beauty of simply being present and observing. It’s a moment that reminds me to always slow down.
Your work has been featured in some of the most prestigious publications. What advice do you have for aspiring photographers who feel overwhelmed by the competition?
My advice is to stop trying to replicate what you see and instead, find your own unique story. The world doesn’t need another photo of a popular subject captured in the same way. What it needs is your authentic voice and perspective. Focus on what you know and love—the landscapes near your home, the subtle changes in your local park. Passion and a personal connection to a subject will always stand out.
What do you do to stay grounded and connected to nature when you’re not on a fieldwork trip?
I love to just get outside and walk, without any camera equipment. I find it’s essential to remember why I started this journey in the first place—not to capture, but to simply experience. Exploring local hiking trails or even just sitting in my backyard and listening to the birds helps me reconnect with that quiet fascination.
Tell us about your upcoming book, Still Wild. What message do you hope readers take away from it?
Still Wild is a project that is very close to my heart. It’s a visual exploration of the endangered spaces within the American South, a region that is often overlooked in conservation conversations. I want to show people that beauty and wildness still exist, often in their own backyards. The core message is one of hope: these places are not lost, and through community-led action, we can still save them.
You champion community-led conservation. How can a photographer, simply with a camera, truly make a difference in that effort?
A photographer can be a powerful visual advocate. We have the ability to give a voice to the voiceless and a face to the faceless. By documenting the work of local heroes—the scientists, farmers, and community organizers—we can show the world what’s at stake and what’s being done. My role is to use my lens to highlight and empower these grassroots efforts, providing them with the visual narratives they need to inspire others and secure vital support.
What’s a piece of advice you’d give to someone who wants to get more involved in conservation but feels like their individual actions don’t matter?
I would tell them that every single action matters. Conservation is not a single, grand gesture; it’s a collection of a million small efforts. Start in your own community—join a local cleanup, plant native species in your yard, or simply share a story about a conservation group on social media. Your individual effort creates a ripple effect, and when we all work together, those small ripples become a powerful wave of change.
Looking back, what’s one thing you wish you had known when you first started your journey as a nature photographer?
I wish I had known that the path would be defined more by patience than by talent. Early on, I was often frustrated by a lack of opportunities or perfect conditions. I’ve learned that the most meaningful photographs are not found; they are earned through perseverance. You have to put in the time, respect the process, and trust that the stories will reveal themselves when the time is right.