Stephen Collector is 60

Stephen Collector is 60. He finally wrote a book.

The title is SunLit. It pairs his photography with prose. He spent decades behind the lens. Now he talks.

Collector graduated from the University of Colorado in 1973. He studied English literature. That degree sat dormant for years. He chose cameras instead. He started freelancing in 1975. He was largely self-taught.

He worked for big names. Esquire. Men’s Journal. The New York Times. Outside. Field & Stream. His work appeared in print across the country. But the stories stayed silent. The images spoke. The words waited.

He lives in Boulder now. His wife is Leigh. He’s a lifelong sportsman. He knows the terrain. He knows the light.

The book isn’t just a photo gallery. It’s a narrative. He blends text with visuals. He calls it a fuller expression. A picture isn’t worth a thousand words. But a picture plus a thousand words? That’s something else.

He picked his topics carefully. He wanted to share his passions. He wanted to show the West. He wanted to capture the feeling of place.

He talks about September. He loves the fall colors. He hears Sinatra’s "September Song" and feels the time passing. He says the West in autumn is unparalleled. He uses the Latin phrase tempus fugit. Time flies.

He treats locations like characters. He believes place changes you. It shifts your sense of self. He wants to pull readers into the landscape. He wants them to feel the shift.

He admits his memory has faded. Age takes its toll. He looks at old photos to jog his recall. He uses them as anchors. They summon forgotten details. They ground him in the spots he writes about.

He cares about wild places. He urges respect for the land. He pushes for protection. He lists what needs saving. Air. Water. Forests. Fields. Rivers. Oceans. He says these spots offer sanctuary. He insists we aren’t just visitors. We’re residents.

He wants readers to feel nourished. He hopes they’ll unburden their worries. He sees nature as a healer. He sees the landscape as a mirror.

He didn’t rush the project. He waited until the timing felt right. He says things aligned at 60. He gave storytelling the attention it needed. He stopped treating writing as a side hobby. He made it central.

He doesn’t claim to be a novelist. He’s a visual artist who learned to type. He’s a photographer who learned to edit. He’s a local who learned to zoom out.

He’s still in Boulder. He’s still shooting. He’s still typing. He’s still 60.

The book is out. The stories are told. The photos are there. The words are there. The West is there.

He stopped.