Photographer

David Enloe

I believe in the power of place.

Photographer in redwood forest sits on suspended log and points a vintage film camera at the viewer.

I left a career in aviation because I wanted to stop moving. To pick a corner of the world and stay there long enough to know it. Our little dirt lane in West Marin has given me that.

Now I spend early mornings hiking through Roy’s Redwoods with my daughter, and late afternoons with garden soil under our fingernails.

She has learned the call of a Pacific Wren and to eat nasturtium flowers.

That’s what I’m trying to photograph. Not your family in front of a place — your family as part of one.

Film double exposure portrait of man wearing glasses and blue shirt, surrounded with overlaid flowers and sun spots.
Double exposure by Posy Quarterman
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“Such an easygoing, funny, and likable dude.”

– Ben Frese, SF dad

“Such an easygoing, funny, and likable dude.”

– Ben Frese, SF dad

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01.

Growing up

islands & boats

My parents moved to the Virgin Islands before I was born. We sailed boats we didn’t really know how to sail. We rebuilt our house after hurricanes. We windsurfed on Sundays at Sapphire Beach if the winds were north, Bluebeard’s if it was south.

None of it felt remarkable at the time. It was just our life.

What I understand now is that I grew up inside a particular idea of family – that the best memories are made when you’re doing something together.

Not watching. Not posing. Doing, together.

Faded film image of family of three sitting on the hood of old car with windsurfing gear stacked on the roof.
02.

time BETWEEN

planes & helicopters

For a lot of my twenties and thirties, I was a pilot. A lot of noise, a lot of movement, a lot of motel rooms in towns I can’t even remember.

The flying was beautiful. But I always wanted to be outside the little bubble I was stuck in.

You can chase adventure your whole life and never find meaning. I needed to stop moving to grow roots.

03.

Landing here

a camera & a daughter

I’ve long had a camera around my neck. But I didn’t listen to that siren song until 2020, after we’d moved to San Francisco.

What started as a side hustle became a path forward.

My daughter arrived in 2023. Margaret Maggie Magpie. She has become my accomplice. The light in the morning. The sound of a stream. The things she sees and does when nobody is asking her to perform.

This is the work now. Pictures of people in places that matter.

Man squeezes baby to cheek in front of sunset and rocky beach.
Photo by Ashley Kaplan

Fair Warning

I always have three pairs of Rainbow sandals — work, everyday, and formalwear. Expect me to arrive in one of them.

Recent Press

WHEN YOU’RE READY

LET’S FIND A MORNING

Summer and fall weekends in West Marin often book six weeks out. Send a note and I’ll send my schedule.

Or browse the Inspiration Series — pre-designed sessions ready to book.