Life has a way of throwing challenges at us that we never expected. My friend Gibbs Frazeur knows this all too well. As a lifelong photojournalist, he built a career on capturing moments that mattered. But a small tick changed everything when it gave him Lyme disease.
The diagnosis didn’t come quickly, and even after, the symptoms were unpredictable. Some days, Gibbs would feel fine. Other days, the pain would be so severe that it robbed him of his ability to work or even participate fully in family life. His wife—who had retired from pharmacy to raise their four boys—returned to work to help financially. Even with treatment, diet changes, and exercise, Lyme disease still took its toll.
Thankfully, Gibbs has now been in remission for the past 8 months to a year. While there are still occasional tough days, he has experienced a new level of health and freedom that allows him to be more present for his family and himself.
In the middle of his health battle, Gibbs found something that brought him joy and gave him a sense of purpose. During the early part of the pandemic, he bought a Nikon 200-500mm lens for his Nikon D750 and started photographing birds in his backyard. At first, the technical frustrations of his older camera slowed him down—but the spark was there. We had many conversations about upgrading, and eventually, he and his wife decided to invest in a new Nikon Z6iii, later adding the Z 180-600mm lens and the Z 1.4 converter.
That decision wasn’t just about gear. It was about creating space for peace, joy, and restoration. Today, Gibbs’s wildlife photography is more than a hobby—it’s a sanctuary. It gives him a break from the weight of everyday responsibilities and allows him to focus on beauty, patience, and wonder.
I recently filmed Gibbs out at Providence Park in Milton, Georgia, with his new setup. I intentionally didn’t cut the video short. Wildlife photography isn’t about rushing; it’s about slowing down, waiting, and immersing yourself in nature.
Here’s the video of Gibbs on his journey:
We all need something like this—a hobby, activity, or practice that gives us joy and purpose no matter what life brings. It doesn’t have to be photography. Maybe it’s gardening, playing music, hiking, painting, or just walking each morning with coffee.
The question I want to leave you with is this:
What brings you peace, the way Gibbs has found in his photography?