If you’re out in public and hear a buzzing nearby, chances are you’re either about to be attacked by a swarm of bees or someone is flying a drone. More likely than not, it’s the latter.

That’s because there are more than 869,000 registered drones in the U.S., according to the Federal Aviation Administration. More and more, people are learning to fly drones either as a hobby or as a career skill. As a multimedia journalist who is used to experimenting with different visual storytelling techniques, drone photography was a tool I was eager to add to my kit.

Before joining the Union-Tribune in March 2022, I had flown a drone a couple of times, but I was unaware of the rules for flying one. The U-T requires employees who will use a drone on the job to get a commercial drone license. The 50-multiple-choice test covers FAA regulations and best practices of flying safely.

In the last couple of years, drones have become more accessible — for better or for worse. It’s legal for someone in the U.S. to fly a drone in an uncontrolled airspace without a commercial license up to 400 feet above ground. By acquiring licenses, U-T photographers expand their access to shooting locations.

Aerial photography wasn’t as convenient before drones. My colleague K.C. Alfred, who has been at the U-T for more than 20 years, recalls that up until recently U-T photographers would frequently pay for a ride on a helicopter to take shots. Most of the time, they would decide ahead of time on the variety of subjects they planned to photograph.

“We’d kind of do a big loop around the county and shoot real estate, the freeways, the coastline, the buildings,” he said. “While we were up there, I’d spent like ten minutes getting a pretty picture for that (day’s) newspaper too.”

Photographers would also ride on helicopters during breaking news, such as the 2008 crash of a Marine Corps F/A-18D in University City.

Renting a helicopter ride would cost upward of $1,000 an hour and could fly as high as 5,000 feet.

But now we fly drones. The U-T began using them in 2014. Alfred, and my colleagues Nelvin Cepeda and Ana Ramirez are also licensed to fly drones. We have full discretion on deciding when we want to fly — as long as we’re following any regulations in place. And just like regular photography, we all have our own unique approach. In general, aerial photos work best with stories related to housing, development, or the environment. From my point of view, the possibilities are endless.

I have been a licensed drone pilot for little over a year, but I still get nervous every time I fly. That’s part of the reason I’ve been more eager to use my drone. I want to get more comfortable with the equipment and improve my skills. I also want to approach assignments in new ways that help elevate a story, so to speak.

For example, I recently took photos with my drone of crew workers repairing a road in Rancho Bernardo that was damaged by the Witch Creek fire in 2007. I could have just taken photos from an eye level, but I wanted to take it a step further. “How would it look like from above?” I asked myself. The end result was a new perspective that clearly showed the juxtaposition of the old asphalt compared to the new one.

Flying a drone can be fun by itself, but when it comes to photojournalism, drone photography is another way I can connect with you, the reader.

Cepeda, who’s been a U-T photographer for 35 years, always says “challenge the reader’s eye.” Now that I’m getting more comfortable with drone photography, I am adding my own line to that piece of advice: Challenge the reader’s eye, but also challenge yourself.