Comical Days Afield - Experiencing Nature's Sense of Humor

 If you add up all the days afield I've managed to enjoy, the total might surprise even myself. There have been so many they all seem to run together into one giant blur. Most of those days afield created their own sets of memories, some challenging, some exciting, some spooky, and a precious few comical. I suppose some of the best memories were created sitting around the campfire reliving many of those comical moments. I still find myself laughing out loud when I thumb through my 'braggin book' and relive the behind the scenes moments that elicited some of the funniest escapades our group experienced.

One of the funniest occurred a good number of years ago when Me, Rocky, Ralph, Neuman, my brother Ken and Curtis took a trip over to Arkansas' Big Piney river for some whitewater adventure. It was late in the spring and that season there had been some good rains so the Big Piney was running pretty good which generated several good sets of rapids a couple approaching class III. We spent a few days over there running the river in open canoes and having a blast. Me and Rocky witnessed two of the most inept canoers we've ever encountered. We were waiting for a few of the others in the group to show up at one of the putin locations. Just down from the put in was the first set of rapids, but above it was a nice wide calm pool, a perfect place from which to stage and set up your approach to those first rapids.

He and I paddled around on this calm stretch killing some time when two other guys showed up. They offloaded a cheap, smallish maybe a 12 foot fiberglass canoe that was designed to look like birch bark. You know, one of those promotional canoes that was dangerously functional. Now both of these guys were quite large, both well over 240 pounds, and it was obvious they had started their day downing several beers each. They dragged the canoe to the water's edge, piled in a large ice chest full of ice and several six packs of beer along with a few other assorted snacks and things. Rocky and I looked at each other and silently realized these guys knew nothing about what they were about to get into.

The canoe was too small for those big guys and when they shoved off, there could not have been more than a few inches of freeboard, that gap between the top of the gunwales and the waterline. They took about three strokes, traveled about 20 feet and lost their balance. Within seconds, in perfectly calm water, over they went spilling themselves and the contents of that large ice chest into the water. Within seconds, beer cans, paddles, cushions, and other contents from the chest started floating down stream. 

Rocky and I couldn't help but laugh as we watched them struggle to get the canoe back to the bank. We did manage to salvage some of their spilled items and ice chest and took it back to them. It was perhaps the shortest float trip on record, for they immediately thru the beer, ice chest, gear, and canoe back onto their vehicle and drove off, cold, wet, humiliated. Rocky and I laughed for the rest of the day reliving that fiasco of a float. We can only imagine what might have happened to them had they continued on down river for there were several potentially dangerous rapids awaiting them had they done so. 

Another memorable and hilarious moment occurred around that same time, maybe a year or two later. At that time I actually lived in Arkansas only a short distance from the Buffalo River, a truly amazing location and a perfect place for someone who enjoyed the outdoors. I wanted to do some backpacking into this area called Ponca Wilderness Area and managed to convince Rocky and Ralph to join me. Another co-worker of mine, Kevin, joined us as well. The hike in was rather uneventful and mostly downhill and we ended up camping not far from the river. Surrounding us was a thick layer of river cane which provided somewhat of a buffer. It was just early enough in the spring that the trees had not yet fully leafed out, but the weather was warm and we settled into a relaxing routine around a campfire. Although it was a bit early in the season, there were some canoers using the river. Often they stop just down from our location and take the short hike up to a pretty cool looking waterfall called Hemmed-in-Hollow. When water runs off the falls it drops a good 100 feet or so in a thin line. So it wasn't unusual to hear canoers stop and head up to the falls.

Well, as we sat around the campfire discussing past adventures, we heard some canoers arrive and make a bunch of racket. We pretty much ignored them and because we were surrounded by the river cane, they could not see us. After a minute or two we heard someone making their way through the cane. It was pretty thick and it was difficult going but eventually a fellow backed his way to the edge of our campsite. He never saw or apparently heard us, for just as he stepped into the clearing with his back to us...(wait for it)...he unbuckled his pants and squatted down attempting to take a dump right there.

Of course we all busted out laughing and the look of horror on the guys face was classic as he jumped to his feet fumbling to re-buckle his pants. He took off through the cane and much to our delight, we never saw him again. That incident became the topic of conversation for most of the rest of the day and ole Ralph said it all. While attempting to light his pipe between chortles, he said, "Boy boy, I aint never had anybody walk into my campsite to take a dump before." Then all laughed so hard we couldn't stop.

Sometimes, what seems funny as we remember back on them, wasn't so funny at the time. There was a classic canoeing comical moment that happened between Ralph and Rocky.  We were floating the Buffalo River and it was early in the season and the water was cold and the air temperature was chilly. Rocky sat in the front of Ralph's old aluminum Grumman canoe and Ralph took up his position as he usually did in the back. Well they wanted to get out and stretch their legs so they angled toward a gravel bank. When the front of the canoe slid onto the bank it came to a stop and Rocky jumped out, grabbed the handle on the bow, and gave it a good tug to pull the canoe higher onto the bank. What he didn't realize was that Ralph had by this time stood up in the back about ready to step out. Well, when Rocky gave it a tug, it caused ole Ralph to do a backflip off the stern and land in freezing cold water. There were several problems with this. It was cold, he got wet, and his hearing aid which hung around his neck got soaked and conked out. Ralph was as deaf as a stump without it. After he recovered from his plunge, he stood up knee deep in the river and famously said, "Why'd you do that for Rocky?"

Well, Rocky of course felt awful about it and was apologetic to no end, but the damage was done. For the rest of the day, Ralph suffered through being wet, cold, and deaf, until they returned to the campsite where he was able to change into dry clothes and plug in his backup hearing aid.

These simple stories about misadventures afield offer more humor to those who lived them than they most likely do for others who can only read about them. There are many more similar stories I may share someday. But for now, I am content to allow these to serve their purpose and to hopefully give the reader a sense that quite few days afield do not always go as planned, but, simply because they do not is what adds fuel to nature's sense of humor.

Highlights from the Beyond The Campfire 2024 Season

 An eventful year it became as 2024 progressed from a snowy January into a wet spring, hot summer, and one of the most amazing fall seasons to date. Here is a quick review across the Beyond The Campfire 2024 season.

Chilly Overnight Backpacking Into Mammoth Cave NP Backcountry

 Finally managed to get out for a late season backpacking trip to once again return to my favorite place within Mammoth Cave NP - The Bluffs. The air was quite cool during the hike in, but a beautiful day with blue skies and crisp air. While there I built another bushcraft camp stool/chair, but mostly just relaxed around the campfire. 

The evening turned cold as the temps dropped deep into the 20's (f) or about -4 (c). Overall it was another wonderful trip. Come and join me as I once again head into the backcountry beyond the campfire.

It's The Simple Things That Count - Look For Those Subtle Small Compositional Elements To Add Punch to Your Nature Photos

 Instinctively, I understood the photographic moment presented itself. Through my peripheral vision I was able to absorb the full spectrum of the scene, but interrupting what my minds eye saw into a workable photograph required a more refined interpretation. 

Using a wide angle lens, I framed the moment all the while looking for that single subtle element that set the scene apart. Then I recognized it; a single, distant tree standing in the morning haze. It was so subtle, one could easily overlook it, but including it within the content of the composition, bottom right corner, defined this Tallgrass prairie dawn.

Seeing those subtle compositional elements that help to define your images can often be overwhelmed by the big things within the scene. It's relatively easy to see those big important elements. It's hard to overlook the grandeur of the Rocky Mountains, or the magnificent nature of a rugged coastline, or one of those amazing prairie mornings. But identifying those small things that set the scene apart from the very bigness of the moment, well, that can often be lost without even noticing it.

Take for instance this recently taken fall photo. The colors were amazing, the scene retained its natural flavor, the angle of the light fit the moment, but what sets this image apart from most of the others taken that same day is one subtle, very small thing. Along the center left edge you see the old fence row nestled under the overhanging limbs and between the tree trunks. You may have to click on the image to see a larger version in order to see it, but it's there and it adds to the rustic flavor of this wonder location. It's such a subtle thing easily overwhelmed by the bigness from the rest of the composition, but it is there for a reason.

Another example of how small subtle things add to the impact of an image is this one of a sunrise behind an old barn. Can you see it? It's the small thinly veiled clumps of grass that arch near the base of the old barn door. In this image, they indeed are an intrical part of the image for without them, the image becomes rather ordinary...almost too simple really. This slight arches of grass near the bottom adds depth, provides a clear impact of the rural nature of the scene, and gives the viewer a sense of place, the kind of place we've all seen before, but most of the time look past.

Being able to look past the big things and search for those important yet subtle small elements is something a good nature photographer instinctively recognizes. It comes with practice, it is refined by performing a self analysis of your own images and attempting to remember what your eye saw at the moment.

Those elements can be part of the background or part of the foreground. They can be very small an stand alone or help to define or accent the larger parts of the image.

 

The Storm

 Growing up in Oklahoma I learned to appreciate the power, danger, and beauty of storms. That area is also known as a volatile part of Tornado Alley for the state has the dubious honor of producing more tornadoes, and some of the largest, per square mile than any place in the world. I've lived in Kentucky now for over 20 years and Kentucky, although not known for its tornadic outbreaks, does produce its fair share, and is no stranger to storms that roll in across the state. One day in June 2024, I happened to be in the right place at the right time to capture a truly unique and beautiful encounter with a popup storm that rolled across a wheat field.

Sometimes lick and instinct has a roll in photography. As I drove along old highway 240, I came to place where I could go straight or left or right. I chose left for no other reason than I knew of a location a few miles down the road where a wheat field fills the rolling terrain. I also noticed some dark clouds off in that direction and thought just maybe a popup storm might present itself.

I guessed right. and within a few minutes I rolled over a shallow hill and around a bend to see this storm cloud forming just on the other side of the wheat field...and it was rapidly approaching. I hastily ran around setting up a few quick shots and managed to capture several I felt were going to look rather nice. Eventually, the storm overtook me and dropped a deluge of rain whipped about by strong winds.

As I suspected, several of the images turned out rather nicely, but this one seemed to stand out from the others. The color version was pretty good and retained its own flavor, but some images just ask to be converted to black and white. Being heavily influenced by Ansel Adams and still working on my Ansel Adams project, that is exactly what I did, and...well, the rest is history.

There is a random strength to this image only nature could manufacture. The structure of the clouds, the curved appearance of the rain curtain, the distant wheat field, the scattering of wild flowers across the foreground along with the weathered appearance of the fence post and gate, all serve to make this a most enjoyable image. I've selected it as one of my top 10 images of 2024.

Yeah, sometimes luck and instinct has a roll in the capture of a photograph, but, just being there to witness nature in her most raw form as it happens...well, all the rest just seems rather ordinary.

Operation Black Mountain - A Revelation

 For five days, October 28 thru November 1, 2024, a team of eleven people from Lakeview Free Will Baptist Church in Bowling Green, Kentucky traveled to western North Carolina to provide and offer assistance to anyone in need who suffered a loss due to Hurricane Helene. This hurricane devastated the communities of Black Mountain and Swannanoa, and many other locations, with flood waters of a biblical nature. Many lost their lives. Many more lost everything; their homes, their jobs, their security. 

Operation Black Mountain became a symbolic gesture of goodwill as the team reached out to several families in the area providing physical labor hopefully to soften the impact of their situation. We learned a great deal during those small but important efforts. Things like grace, courage, hope, encouragement, thankfulness, gratitude, were common virtues exhibited during this token, but important effort of giving of one's time and energy.

One of the locations we served was the Swannanoa Free Will Baptist Church spending half a day there helping another team rip the ruined flooring from the 100 year old building. While there, I took a moment to review the basement area of the church. One room caught my eye for hanging in the window was an American flag. Tattered, stained with a high water mark, it hung in the window as a proud symbol of this communities resolve to recover. Using my cell phone, I snapped its portrait. It is perhaps the single most powerful image from the trip.

Backlit by a bright background, it seemed to glow in the darkness and gloom. In a way, it spoke very loudly, but with a subtle voice, saying, "I'm still here, I'm still strong." Indeed she was and so were the people we grew to know during that short time.

There are many people within in our country who are upset by the recent election results. They have their reasons and I'll leave it at that, for now. I once read a book written by Peter Jenkins...two books actually. The first one was called 'A Walk Across America'. The second one was 'The Walk West.'

Back in the early 1970's, Peter was a disillusioned and disgruntled young college aged man who had grown angry with his country. Too many injustices, the Vietnam War, among other issues created a terrible although misguided view of what his country was and had become. In a way he didn't know what his country stood for. Someone convinced him to get out and see the country. Not just drive through it, but to walk across it and rediscover the heartland values of what we as a nation stood for. He and his dog did just that. It took him several years, but he made it and in the process discovered so much about the people of America. 

He discovered that in spite of her many faults, America's heartland is strong and vibrant filled with good, God fearing people, who work hard and care for their families. He got to know so many of them and they grew to love him, and he them. Doing so changed his life. Doing so changed his understanding of what America is all about.

Operation Black Mountain, in a smaller way, proved the worth of selflessly doing for others, with what you can give, even if it is simply a small gesture of kindness. Finding that American Flag defiantly hanging in the basement window after a devastating flood, well, I think maybe the Good Lord wanted me to discover that symbolic moment. It spoke to me.

Yes, in spite of her faults, America is still a place of opportunity and resolve. We may seem deeply divided to many from around the world, and maybe we are in some ways. But, when you take time to look more closely, to selflessly give to or encourage others, to see the good that thrives across this land, well...the chasm of divisions may not seem so wide.

Indian Summer - Rhoden Creek

 The simple things grow more important the older I become. I discovered a renewed spirit on Kentucky's little Rhoden Creek during a most memorable Indian Summer October.

A Splendid Kentucky Indian Summer October: How A Small Little Creek Salvaged My Photography

 I had nothing better to do. The weather was splendidly fine and the late October Kentucky sky shined bright and blue. A chill filled the air early on, but I knew by mid-morning the day would turn Indian Summer warm. About 9:00 AM I scurried around and grabbed my new-to-me Sony A77 camera, an upgrade from my now older and defunct A65. With the Sigma 18mm - 50mm f/2.8 lens attached I made sure the polarizer looked clean and dust free. A quick spin and all was ready. I grabbed my venerable Minolta 75-300mm lens, just in case. Didn't plan on using it, but you never know. Rule is, if I didn't bring it, I'd have wished I did, but by taking it, it was pretty well a done deal I would not use it. A fresh battery tucked into a shirt pocket along with a pair of readers...and oh yeah...can't forget the tripod. I settled for the smallish, but sturdy AFaith one. A quick reformat of the card and I was ready to go.

Fall in Kentucky lingers way to long. Seems it just holds off, and holds off, showing only tantalizing hints of what is to come. Then almost like magic, someone waves an invisible wand and overnight the fields and woods are adorned in colors that rival anyplace you might imagine. Just three days before only a few trees showed any kind of significant color. This morning, the fall season colors exploded across the landscape including my backyard. But, I was heading to another location, A little creek known as Rhoden Creek. It's a place I frequent from time to time for I know if I catch it just right..well, just maybe there might be a photo or two in there.

The old Jeep purred on down the road passing flowing colors adorning the hills and valleys that is eastern Warren County, and western Allen County. I needed a light windbreaker for the air was still cool especially with the doors off the Jeep. The winding road passed old buildings and barns moving up and over shallow hills and along side fence rows. I took a shortcut inside Scottsville and came out on the other side of town and continued on. Before long me and the old Jeep took a left turn off the mainroad and drove on for another mile or so and took another left turn to eventually cross a low-water bridge. I parked on the other side. 

The creek flowed low but steady and danced lively to its own rhythm across a gravel bottom and slippery flat rocks. I walked across the bridge to the backside and stepped onto the gravel bank. Sometimes I simply time it right, and today it felt right. I knew something photographic would come from this. The creek was lined on one side by a row of trees glowing with fresh fall colors. Behind them a two maybe three acre field spread a gap between the creek and a shallow hillside also speckled with reds and yellows. On the other side of the creek a shallow hill rolled upward forming a tilted wall. Lined with a woodland, its sides shouted with authentic Kentucky color.

Countless fallen leaves already lined the creek and a small break line offered a tiny brook level waterfall whose motion generated the classic small creek music. With each lift of the breeze, hundreds of leaves filtered across the opening, and with each passing of moments, I was filled with the satisfying sense of being there. The water, clear and clean, rolled along near my feet. So much to see, so many angles and compositions to choose from, I found it difficult to decide where to start. I just allowed my instincts to take charge.

Visualizing a composition is one of the most difficult things for a photographer to master. Sometimes Nature all but does it for you. Even so, you gotta evaluate the sun angle, compose the frame, set the exposure, adjust the polarizer, move forward, backward, kneel lower or stand higher. But eventually, you press the shutter. I am thankful I started in photography way back in the film days. Doing so forced me to observe more intimately the landscape and composition, and that alone has contributed to my, most of the time, seeing the composition before I press the shutter. One thing I've learned over the years; There is more to capturing Fall colors than simply pointing your camera toward a pretty tree. You must capture the emotion, and express why this moment, this location, this instant of light is important. You do that by allowing the light to illuminate the story. You are the writer, director, and producer of this story and it is your vision that is captured. 

 At the first image, something began to work. Like a machine, I moved to the left, then right, then back, then forward. With each shot, the compositions matured. Not sure how many images I managed that morning, but oddly enough, when I looked more closely at the result, the first few were the ones that stood out. First impressions almost always work that way.

The sun climbed a bit too high in the sky and the light within that channel began to grow much too harsh. By the time I arrived back home, I could not wait to take a look at the results. It's not often an image I take will generate the kind of response I felt. Usually it's something like...well, this one is pretty good, or, I can maybe salvage these two. The first couple of images I brought up on the screen caused me to verbally exclaimed, "Whoa...Oh my."

A Kentucky Indian Summer October day and a small little Kentucky creek salvaged my photography for the season. I had indeed grown complacent and uninspired, but, light has the ability to change your perspective and that in turn challenges your vision.  

Until the Last Moment of Light: When Nature Says "Here I am..."

Difficult it is and sometimes downright hard it is to sit still inside a tight fitting, makeshift photo blind for several hours waiting for an opportunity to photograph a wild animal, Kentucky Whitetail Deer in particular. Your mind tends to drift, your back starts to ache, your rear-end starts to cramp, and those are the lesser of the uncomfortable symptoms. The question 'Will they even show up' crosses your mind a dozen then two dozen times. You hope they will. You've seen them in this field countless times. Their patterns vary on each visit, but, yeah, they'll most likely show up, eventually.

Problem is; I've already taken hundreds of ordinary images of them, only a few of which really separate themselves from the others. That is what I am seeking for this season-long project, and going forward; photographs that reside outside the routine. An image that captures not only the animal behavior, but one showing where it lives. Much of that depends on the deer of course. Sometimes they cooperate, most times they do not. Their senses often spoil your attempts. Even so, the challenge is what drives you, keeps you sitting there with a cramping back and stiff legs waiting for the moment to present itself. 

The afternoon drifts away toward evening and the angles of light begin to cast shadows through the tangle of woodlands that mark the perimeter of the recently harvested cornfield. The fall season colors are but a few days away from busting out. Already chilly, with some color growing across the landscape, you relish nature's transitional moments. Not quite there yet, but headed in that direction. It's easy to get distracted maybe even nod off as the warmth of Indian Summer surrounds you, but then your leg cramps and you gotta stretch it out. Not so easily done sitting inside a burlap and stick blind barely large enough to accommodate your frame, a tripod, and your camera. 

Even when hidden behind the camouflaged burlap, movements can still alert a whitetail. Their hearing and eyesight honed precisely into a keen sharpness by nature's way of survival. Even a slight shift of the gentle breeze will betray you...all of a sudden you hear it, that loud, sharp, snorting bleat of an alert doe whose nose told her an intruder is close by.  A few moments before and you felt like they would never show themselves. Now, they detected you before you even knew they were there.

You see it move to your right; not where you expected, angled away just enough so your camera cannot rotate that far without moving the entire contraption, and that would make a far to obvious commotion. So, you wait. You dare not move. She can't see you, so calms down and begins to move, head down occasionally checking the breeze for intruder scent. Suddenly, there are now three, then five. They move so silently in spite of the dry conditions.  Finally, you are able to fire off a few quick photos. They hear the soft wisk of the shutter and instantly look up all eyes locked onto where you are. They cannot possibly see you inside the blind, but they instinctively know something is not quite right. They grow agitated. Stomp the ground, snort twice, then a third time, and that subtle gentle breeze shifts ever so slightly again, they twitch, raise their tails, and bolt across the field. They run maybe two hundred yards before stopping, turn back to give you one more look of contempt before they calm down enough to begin feeding again.

By this time, the sun has settled to just above the horizon and a bit of a chill runs down the back of your exposed neck, but you don't really feel it, locked onto the moment. Maybe another five minutes of shooting light left, but the best light is now. The does are standing in the gray of cast shadows. Soft, golden, mid-October light floods the far treeline, the horizon gray shadow ever so steady, creeps across the field to the base of the woodlands.

More movement. Two, three more does emerge from the shadows across the field and meander toward the fading light. Another two minutes and the good light will end. One of them saunters to the edge of the shadowed area, hesitates, then moves across a last remnant beam of sunlight that sets her aglow as she stands beneath overhanging limbs. You focus the camera lens peering through isolated grasses in the field and lock onto her. One more step...Click.  A moment later, the light show comes to an end, and everything turns a blue gray. 

Several hours of waiting, anticipating, not knowing for sure if there would even be an opportunity to photograph these amazing creatures in their habitat. You never know for sure what will happen, how the light will interact with the deer, but, you hang on, and wait...wait...until the last moment of light...when Nature says "Here I am."

When Patience Pays Off: Photographing a Trophy Kentucky Deer

 Photographing wildlife can often be a most difficult objective for a photographer. Doing so successfully requires a persistent degree of patience. 

Kentucky whitetail deer are some of the most illusive and cunning of wildlife. With a keen sense of hearing, sharp as hawks eyesight, and an uncanny sense of smell, they are well equipped to detect intruders into their domain. One whiff of a human, and they are gone before you ever see them. A careless movement can catch their attention in a flash. One misstep, a crackle of dry leaves for example, can alert them to your presence. They rarely hesitate if any sign of danger is present and will bolt in a moment when their concern of safety overrides their better part of valor. So, getting into position to photograph truly wild whitetail deer is a daunting task even for a seasoned hunter...or photographer. Doing so for either requires a solid working knowledge of their habits and their habitat.

For many years I hunted those magnificent animals. Those years were some of the most rewarding and satisfying of adventures I've managed to pursue and they generated some of the most enduring memories. In more recent times, I've altered my approach and today I hunt mostly with the camera. But the skills gained as a hunter translate well into pursuing wildlife with a camera. In some ways, hunting with a camera is more difficult because to capture those truly amazing images, one must get reasonably close to your subject or recognize the beauty of an environmental portrait taken from some distance. Accomplishing either requires one to develop a keen sense of patience and the willingness to try again and again...and again. Doing so will over time result in success.

This past week saw the promise of a new season dawning upon the landscape, a season jump started by chilly temperatures and blustery winds. When the cornfields turn brown and the woodland trees begin to find their new adornment of color, the moment signals it's time to search for those amazing whitetail deer.  A few exploratory hikes around the cornfields and into the nearby woods revealed several scrapes and rubs...large rubs...in the area; a good indication the deer are approaching their rutting season, and at least one trophy sized deer was frequenting the area. I've seen several good ones the past few years, a few of which certainly must have matured into amazing adult animals. 

For several days I sat inside a patch of woods just behind a pond that anchors the upper end of one of the cornfields. Conditions were rough with stiff breezes whipping my scent all through the woods causing the doe deer to become quite jumpy. 

The first three afternoons I managed to see a few does, take a few so-so photos, but no bucks, but I did know they were around because of the abundance of sign scattered throughout the woods. 

The standing corn crop was finally harvested mid-week so I gave the deer a break for a day, but headed out the next afternoon. By this time, the movement habits of the deer using that patch of woods became more evident and I positioned myself in a location where I had a commanding view of a wide, mostly clear path that circumnavigated this few acres of woods. The wind was light and in my favor this time coming from the north east, just about perfect for this location. Fully camouflaged and with my 50-500mm lens attached to my camera secured to a tripod, I sat in a strategic spot demanding a good view of the open lane. I leaned up against a tree and made myself comfortable and waited.  Waiting is most difficult, and the anticipation associated with waiting can often be overwhelming. That is when other values come into play, when simply being in the woods is reward enough. Even so, your senses tune into every sound, every movement, even a single leaf floating down catches your eye. A distant squirrel shakes his tail and your eye instantly locks on. A woodpecker hammers an old dead but still standing tree. Sights. Sounds. Movements. All play out their roll across the woods.

Movement is what you look for, what you tune your eye to seek out. Even the faintest of motions causes your eyes to shift. Movement is also what you avoid doing for even the slightest of motions can catch the eye of a deer you may not know is there. I purposely turn my head with a slow arch, shifting my eyes, left and right, keep my hand movements to a minimum, and sit behind my tripod and camera which helps to break up my profile.

Not much happened for the first hour and half; a couple of squirrels, a few noisy birds, and not much else stirred. About 3:30 or so, I caught sight of some movement deep into the thick woods. Just a flash here and there, no details, could not make out what it was...then I saw the white flash from a deer's hind quarters as the deer passed across a narrow gap in the trees as the deer meandered through the woods. I suspected it would cross the cleared pathway in a few moments and indeed it did. When it first poked its head out from the tangled woodlands about forty yards from where I sat, my heart skipped a beat, or two, as this was no ordinary deer or one of the many does in the area. This guy was a trophy buck with a large set of antlers spreading high and wide. He was beautiful!

For the next five minutes I could not remember taking a breath. He moved so quickly, and stealthily, I failed to capture a photograph as he crossed the path. A few moments later, he reappeared and I managed a few quick shots before he again entered the thick woods. I could see him crossing through the clutter of trees then lost sight of him. A few moments later, there he was again reentering the open path and angled across again a bit further down. I managed a couple more rapid fire shots. The lighting was difficult as a bright sun cast hotspots all across the open pathway making the exposure setting difficult. Normally I shoot in manual mode and use auto focus, but the lighting was so contrasty it was difficult to obtain a good exposure. I quickly shifted into Aperture Priority, bumped my ISO up to 1600, and pushed the exposure compensation to a + 1/3 stop to allow for the dark areas without overexposing the brighter areas. I also switched to manual focus as there was just enough junk between me and the deer to confuse the autofocus. I had to work quickly relying on years of experience with that camera and lens to instinctively make the correct settings.

My trophy buck disappeared again, but within a few minutes reappeared, only this time he was moving toward me. Unknown to me at the moment, several does had also come on the scene and he locked on to them moving with a determined drive toward where they were, sniffing and licking the air. From this behavior, I'm sure he was close to being in full rut as were the does.

Over the next few minutes I watched as best as I could the seven or eight does meander through the woods and into the field followed closely by my trophy. Problem was, by then I was out of position and I had to shoot photos through the trees. 

After they meandered out into the field, I slowly stood and tried to move as quietly as I could to better position myself...then...buck number two showed up. At first I thought it was the same one, could have been, but i never saw him circle around and reenter the woods. This new buck's rack was also tall and wide, but consisted of thinner tines, and he was also thinner. The first buck's neck was already starting to swell because of the surge of testosterone starting to build within his system. This second deer was indeed thinner, but I was not able to obtain a good photo of him, just a single shot through a tangle of trees. He was also much more leary as he locked onto some of my movement and darted off, followed by several of the does.

I waited for a short time before deciding to backtrack and circle around the outer edge of the woods and exit the area hoping not to spook the deer. On my way out, I knew within my camera resided some good photos of a magnificent deer. Someday soon, I'd try again, but for now I'd give them time to re-settle down into their undisturbed routine.

Photographing a trophy whitetail deer requires patience, skill, and a good degree of luck. On this day, all three fell into place and I managed to witness one of nature's enduring sagas. Seeing a trophy buck in the wild is a rare event, and trophy bucks grow to that size for a reason; they are smart and stay out of trouble. Being there with a camera close enough to take his portrait is truly a magical time, a reward when patience paid off.

Looking For Everyday Natural Compositions - Keep it Simple

 Mid-October and nature is shifting toward cooler fall-like temperatures, brisky breezes that sing their songs through the tops of the trees, and nature is beginning to awaken from its summer doldrums. Transitional moments in nature are some of the most exciting times for a photographer. Contrasts are deeper and wildlife begins to stir more deeply as they prepare for the onset of winter. Capturing these moments can be somewhat of challenge, but just being out in nature during this time of year stirs the imagination and creative instincts. One of the techniques I try to employ during this time is to look for the simple, everyday compositions. 

In recent days I have spent a good part of the time hiking around the cornfields behind my house looking for easy compositions. In doing so, I've run across a few of the deer that inhabits this area. The corn harvest has yet to be completed across these fields, so photographing the deer remains somewhat more complex in that they tend to roam around the fringes often obscured by the tall stalks across the cornfield. Often they just remain inside the wooded area venturing out late in the day to feed. Photographing them inside a wooded area is not easy simply because of all the clutter in there. 

Making sense of the compositions required to capture a compelling deer photograph is more dependant on the deer than anything; they tend to always show up from the wrong direction and stay hidden. Just yesterday I was sitting inside this patch of woods along the edge of a wide road-like path that circles around the perimeter. The wind was in my face and I just knew the deer would come from one particular direction and across a clear area like they had done before. Well, one did show up, but it came from behind me, downwind, and as I suspected, she caught my scent and that's all she wrote...off she went.

Even though I was unable to capture any photos of the deer, I began to see simple woodland-style compositions all around me. 

The darkened nature of the woodlands provided a wonderful backdrop for things like a single branch with a cluster of leaves on the end, or  a fat squirrel scampering about that peeked around the side of a tree, or a vine with a single leaf still attached near the end of an extension.

Using a long lens served to isolate those moments into simple everyday natural compositions. Even when the wildlife does cooperate, capturing them in a compelling, yet simple way can be a challenge. I will look for natural behavior moments with natural framing surrounding the animal. A year or so ago, a small family group of doe meandered into the corn stubble field with a few of them remaining just inside the woods.

A single deer stepped into a small opening near the edge and when she did, she caught sight of my movement and locked onto my location. She was framed by a series of tree limbs with her being highlighted against the dark background inside the wooded area. The finished photo became a very compelling, and storytelling image with her staring in my direction with one leg raise. The composition is simple, yet retained an element of natural complexity to it.

Wildlife photography is perhaps one of the most difficult styles of photography and requires patience, a good working knowledge of the wildlife's natural tendencies, and a good measure of luck. Most of the nature magazines and/or books thrive on the close-up image of some animal showing all the details in exceptional sharpness. Those work well for things like insects, birds, flowers, and so on. I do have a few of those, but, when it comes to wildlife in general, I have captured far more long range images...images that I classify as Environmental Wildlife Portraits, any other kind of images. 

To me, these kinds of images do far more to capture the natural behavior of wildlife than the close-up and my preference is to look for those kinds of opportunities. They also lend themselves well to the simple natural composition.

I am constantly in search of the simple compositions where my subject is isolated against the background, or captured deep within and engulfed by their natural surroundings. Everyday natural compositions serves the photographer well as there are far more of them available than the spectacular natural ones. One could even say, because their simplicity, they retain a spectacular element far deeper than what might first be apparent. 

A Hint of Fall - Sitting in the Woods Scouting for Deer Photo Ops

 Summer tried its best to linger well into October, however, the Fall season is in the air with cooler temps, a brisky breeze, a hint of color, and the Whitetail Deer Bucks are showing signs of entering the rut. 

Yesterday and again this afternoon, I took a photo walk out back of my house and ran across several signs the deer population in the area are in fact nearing the rutting season. Found a good number of fresh rubs, where the bucks rub their antlers on saplings to mark their territory and leave calling signs for any available doe. I also discovered a couple of scrapes, that's where a buck will paw the ground and urinate in the dirt, again to leave their calling signs. Lots of turkey feathers littered the edges of the woodlands. 

This afternoon I hiked over to the pond and into the woods beyond it and discovered several large rubs, most of them found within a circular area of somewhat open woods. Big and small bucks will make small to medium sized rubs, but only big bucks make big rubs, and these I found today are big.

As a result I went back later in the afternoon a couple hours before sundown just to see if I might get lucky and catch one of those big bruisers visiting his rub line. Did not run into any bucks (they are probably making their rounds at night with the bright moonlight), but did encounter several doe who played a cat and mouse game with me. Seems they knew I was in there, snorting several times, but just could not find me.  They moved back and forth about 40 or 50 yards away along the inside edge of the woods. I could see them, and hear them, but the picture taking was difficult because of the thick cover.

 Even so, it was a lot of fun to once again get out like that and mingle with the local wildlife. Along with the deer, I saw several fat squirrels, two different flocks of turkeys, and assorted other birds. 

Right now there is still standing corn in the field which makes it more difficult to photograph the deer when they might otherwise meander across the open areas. Probably within a week or so, the owner will harvest the corn which will offer a more open field of view and as the season progresses, the deer will more and more utilize the spilled corn from that harvest.

On my way back from my first outing of the day, I noticed several blue birds sitting on a fence post. This one was highlighted by a beam of sunlight against a shaded background. It made for an interesting composition as did an old piece of farm machinery sitting beside the still standing corn field. Against the brilliant blue October sky, it made for a rustic and scenic composition.

There were two separate flocks of turkeys on this day. The first one, maybe a dozen birds, eventually meandered across the corn field and into the woods on the north side of the field. Later, as I hiked back home, I ran a cross another flock of maybe 6 or 8 birds on the south side of the field.

Overall it was a good day afield and I look forward to more outings like this one as the fall season progresses. 

Overnight Canoe Camp - Best Ever Fishing Day!

 Managed to finally load up my canoe again for another overnighter canoe camping/fishing trip on Kentucky's Barren River Lake. Even though I often find myself returning to the same location(s), every trip is unique and each one possesses a different flavor. This trip was no exception. Early fall is one of the best times to get out and October possibly the best overall month for the weather tends to be in transition with warm days and crisp and cool nights. 

Packed along some good food on this one again feasting on a wonderful Ribeye steak cooked in a cast iron skillet and cooked over a campfire. Man-o-man...mighty tasty and satisfying. Breakfast the next morning consisted of crispy bacon along with scrambled eggs again cooked over a campfire.

The first day was simply a paddling day...about 4 miles was all...but done in a leisurely style just enjoying the blue skies. Camp was set up tucked away on the edge of an isolated point of land where a simple and rustic gravel beach offered a nice respite from life challenges. Slept under a tarp with a great view of the lake.

Day two started out in an unhurried manner fixing breakfast, clean up, packup, load the canoe, and a mid-morning shove off. About half way back, I started casting my fishing line next to a long and rocky bluff that dropped off into deep water. A few casts later and the first fish of the day grabbed hold of the lure. He turned out to be a nice 2 1/2 lb black bass with a bigger fight than his size would indicate. A few casts later and bass number 2 was on. He turned out to be about a 3 lb bass. Over the next half hour or so, I caught several more fish before moving on .

A half mile or so later I started casting another line along a similar bluff. After a few casts and another bass was hooked. He was another 3 pounder or so and had a lot of heart. One cast later, and another bass was on that was about 3 1/2 lbs or so. (just a fisherman's estimate on the sizes). What a morning fishing! Ended up catching 10 fish over all including 4 nice bluegill, and several bass.

Turned out to be a great overnight trip....please enjoy the video!

To Be Alone - Quiet Times in the Woods or on the Water

 Recently, someone asked me, "What's your favorite thing to do?" The answer required about three or four seconds of thought; "To be alone in the Woods." In all honesty, being alone in nature (with my camera) is probably a more encompassing answer, for that is where I feel most at home and most intune with who I am as a person and a photographer.

Nature has always fascinated me. Growing up in southeastern Oklahoma as a young boy, I often found myself sitting outside in the shade of my grandparents big yard and dreaming about wild adventures. I read adventure stories, there were no DVD's or VHS videos back then, so reading was just about the only way a boy could build his imagination. One of my favorite publications was Boy's Life, the Boy Scouts magazine. It was always filled with true life adventures that came to life through the wonderful illustration that filled the pages. Oddly enough, I was never a real boy scout, I just sort of became one on my own, and I loved the BB Gun advertisements on the back of comic books. Oh my, how I wanted one of those Daisy pump BB guns. My parents never did get one for me, but I did eventually manage to own a trusty lever action Red Ryder...still have one. (Some of my fondest memories raising my two boys was when I taught them how to shoot it.)

I'd build miniature log forts and cabins using the numerous broken limbs and sticks that littered that dusty old yard. While doing so, my young mind would flow across time to imagine what it must have been like back in Daniel Boone's day. (Come Fourth of July, I'd blow them up with firecrackers.) But, the most adventurous moments of my youth came when I'd take off on my own, cross the railroad tracks behind the neighbors house, and head off through the woods and fields to eventually find the shallow running shoals where the  Poteau River split. In the imagination of a young boy, I was exploring the deepest of backcountry woods just like ole Daniel Boone did. In reality is wasn't very far. Even so, I'd sit alone for what seemed like hours, until I'd get hungry and make my way back to civilization. 

Those imaginings from way back then became ingrained into my heart and I still treasure those moments for without them, I'd not be even close to who I am today. Things have changed in a lot of ways since then, but in other ways they remain the same. That young boys adventurous spirit still lingers inside of my now older self, only now I am able to play them out for real, more or less, with my canoe, my backpack, my Jeep, and my camera. There are few outing I explore without my camera for with it, I can visually capture the essence of what it means to be alone in the quiet of the woods or canoeing across a lake with the sun setting across the way. Oddly enough, the mental images I made all those years ago are just as sharp, just as real, and just as rewarding as any photograph I've ever made...maybe even more so.

I need those simple quiet times in the woods to clear my head of all the nonsensical rhetoric that floods our world today. I often long to revisit those simpler days when I was a boy, but I understand...you can never go home again. Yet making time for a short hike and finding a quiet place to just sit awhile and listen to the wind talk to the trees or listen to moving waters as they dance across a set of shoals, or maybe watch as a swollen creek tumbles over a waterfall well, it's a good way to clear away the clutter from inside. Along the way, I'll take a photo or two just because I can. Maybe someday, someone will see one of those images and understand why the moment was important.

A Willingness to See Through the Clutter to Discover the Larger Scene

 Today the summer air temperature is hovering just below 100 degrees and the humidity not far behind. Tomorrow and the next day could easily surpass the 100 degree mark. It is August by the way, so days  like these in this part of the country do not come as much of a surprise. But, a week or so ago a hint of fall, the false fall, drifted across the landscape with cooler temperatures and pleasant days. I am so looking forward when the weather crosses a tipping point and the surge toward a new season is launched full swing. 

It's been a good summer overall. I've managed to get out a number of times with my canoe and camera and fishing rod, not nearly as much as I should have. Even so, those few outings offered a measure of relief from the daily routine. Today, avoiding the heat, I browsed through a few photos I made last winter. Sometimes doing something like that will reveal an image or two that simply jump out at me, and I ran across these two. I kept asking myself, "Why do I like these images?"

I've certainly captured better ones, but for some reason, I really like these two images. Let's take look at each one and try to dissect their qualities so I can answer that question.

Both images were taken out at one of my favorite places, Shanty Hollow Lake, on the same day a few minutes apart. On this particular day, and time of year, the lake level was much lower than normal which offered more area to explore. I stepped into the now dry lake bottom toward the upper end and walked across toward the other side. The fall leaves had dropped months before, but a few colorful ones still clung to their limbs. All the tall grasses lining the shoreline had turned brown. 

What caught my eye was the blown down river birch tree as it lay sideways across the brown grass. The tops of the grasses carried a distinctive silvery shine that slowly blended into the brown lower portions. Most the background trees provided another level of silvery contrasts and within that silvery veil I could see brilliant splashes of color. 

Part of being a good photographer is to be able to visually see a photograph before you lift the camera to your eye. Within a few steps, I was able to frame the image with my mind and simply make a few minor adjustments in composition and exposure. The detail of the woodlands behind the grass suddenly took on a fresh appearance no longer lost within the confused state of chaos that can so often ruin woodland images. There is just enough contrast here, just enough white bark, just enough splashes of color to transform a bleak winter day into a wonderful photo op.

This second image was taken from almost the same vantage point. All I did was turn to my left, walk a few yards drawing a bit closer to the water's edge. A similar kind of appeal presented itself where a stark, gray woodland revealed itself to contain wonderful contrasts of white bark, soft grassy tones, and splashes of color embedded deeper within the woods. Add into the compositional equation those soft reflections cast across the water and you a formula for a successful woodlands photo.

It is easy to overlook such simple opportunities. Finding them requires somewhat of a trained eye, but more importantly, the willingness to see beyond the ordinary and through all the clutter to focus in on the elements that define, within a smaller frame, the larger scene.

Saga of the Glass Ball: How a Rare Japanese Fishing Net Flotation Device Created Havoc

 The few years I spent in the United States Coast Guard provided me with numerous memories and adventures. Some of those adventures became iconic, somewhat demanding moments for my young adult life. Others provided a measure of comic relief that helped to define my time at Station Umpqua River. One of the most comical all started with an attempted recovery of a rare, hand blown, Japanese fishing net glass ball flotation device, an attempt that spiraled into a near disaster.

Back in 1974, glass balls were pretty rare and prized collector items. Some of them had been floating around the Pacific for decades. They are even more rare today. Back then a beachcomber could occasionally run across one as it rolled up on the beach through the surf. They ranged in size from small ones about the size of a baseball, up to larger ones as big as a basketball. Sometimes they would even retain a portion of the netting that encapsulated them. They were used to keep fishing nets afloat.

I never found one, but managed to get caught up in an incident of someone trying to retrieve one. Back then, our station still operated with a rather large and cumbersome communications system that included a bulky switchboard and a 1940's era teletype. All of the stations up and down the coast were connected via their own communication lines, Telephone Lines. This, of course, was pre-digital, pre-cell phones, pre-laptop computers, and way before Internet email was even thought of. Everything was still analog. Those Coast Guard telephone lines were serviced by technicians known as TT's or Telephone Technicians. As old as it was, it worked and worked well...most of the time.

One day two TT's drove up in their 4x4 Ford pickup. Somewhere along those communication lines there was some kind of issue they needed to check out and do some maintenance on. They checked in with us to verify that we'd be available to provide some assistance should it be required and of course we were. For them to gain access to those lines, they had to drive along beach. Well about an hour later our phone rang and it turned out to be them. They had climbed one of the line poles, tapped into the line, and dialed our station number. The conversation went something like this.

"Hey, we need a little help out here..we are...uh. sort of stuck in the sand. Can you bring your 4x4 truck down here and pull us out?"

"Yeah...I guess we can.."

"Can you sort of hurry up...we need you down here as quickly as you can get here."

Me and one or two other guys jumped into our big ole Ford 4x4 that had one of those high powered PTO (Power Take Off) winches mounted on the front bumper and headed out. A few miles down the beach we found them and what we saw caused us to wonder in amazement as to how they got themselves into the predicament they were in.

 Their truck wasn't just stuck, it was sitting on the edge of the surge and waves were washing all around it. It was buried all the way up to its frame in the sand...and the tide was coming in. Waves were already washing all around it. Their story went something along this line.

"Well, we were driving along when I saw a large glass ball roll up on one of the waves, so I told my partner to stop so I could get out and retrieve it. Well...he didn't stop, he just turned toward it and pulled up next to where it was rolling around. I jumped out, grabbed it, jumped back in and he tried to backout but stalled the truck. Before he could get it started, a big wave rolled in and flooded the engine and...well, now we're really stuck."

After we stopped rolling around on the beach laughing, we hauled the winch cable out to their truck wading thru knee deep water and hooked it to their back bumper. Problem was, they were so buried in the sand, we could not pull them out. Instead, with nothing to anchor on, we were pulling our truck toward them. We tried to pull them off by taking slack out of the line and bumping them free by backing up. No good. After several unsuccessful attempts, we got on the radio and called the station. One of the guys there drove a 4x4 Blazer with a winch and we had him come out to give us another vehicle.

By the time he arrived, the tide had rolled in a good ways and there were literally breakers crashing over the hood. We managed to hook up his winch, but even with two vehicles, we still could not break them loose. We were really in a fix. Nothing we tried worked. About that time, a third vehicle drove up and the driver got out to offer some assistance. With three vehicles using three winches, we still were unable to break them loose. By this time the tide had really rolled in, but we noticed that every time a wave hit the truck, it looked like it tried to float it a few inches. So we took a different approach. 

We had the two outer vehicles place tension on their winches, and we let out a few inches of slack with our 4x4. When a wave tried to float the stuck truck, I hit the clutch and snapped pulled in reversed. After four or five attempts we managed to pull them out of the sand and roll them up to high ground.

We towed them back to the station where the mechanics removed the carburetor and dried it out, pulled all the plugs and dried them off and blew air thru the alternator to dry it out and low and behold, the truck fired off first time. The two TT's thanked us and drove off with the glass ball in hand.

The story does not end there. A week or so later, I had to go down to the Group office down at Coos Bay for a reason I have long ago forgotten. Inside the building there were offices along the perimeter with a few cubicles in the center. As I walked thru, I ran into those two TT's and rather matter of factly asked them out loud if they had been chasing glass balls and getting stuck anytime lately. Both of them motioned for me to be quiet and not to speak about that incident especially inside the Group office...seems they never told anyone about how they got stuck and why.

From time to time, I will run across a glass ball inside an antique store. Just the sight of one of those iconic relics brings back that comical memory of how a rare Japanese fishing net flotation device created havoc for two TT's.