Other Values: Memories for a Lifetime

 The sleepy fog that hovered around my eyes all but evaporated once I started my hike across the Oklahoma Tallgrass Prairie. The going was rough with the tallgrasses brushing against my now damp pant legs --- dampness from the early morning rain and heavy dew that filled the prairie with a fresh aroma. Early I had arrived, seeking to observed the sunrise --- No legendary sunrise this morning, just a prevailing heavy overcast but one filled with textures and various shades of blue gray. As it almost always does on the prairie a stiff breeze cut across the morning touching the tops of the tallest of the blooms and grasses exciting them into a prairie dance. A carpet of countless blooms extended deep into the shallow ravine. Their soft and gentle undulations from the wind brought the prairie alive with subtle movement as song birds kept time with their morning musical serenades.  

About every twenty steps or so a Meadow Lark would take to wing, sometimes two or three at a time --- fly about thirty or forty yards, spread their wings, and set down again. They appeared just a small, brown and yellow speck when observed within such an open expanse.  After about a quarter mile or so of hiking I arrived at the rocky outcropping that overlooked the arroyo spread out and below. It was a familiar place, one I discovered a good number of years before. I stopped for a brief rest and stepped up on the largest rock formation. When I did, a single bobwhite quail burst from a clump of grass a few yards away and flew just above the grasses like a miniature, brown missile to finally disappear beyond a shallow rise. I was here, again, to take from this place a few photographs. What happened turned out to be something entirely different, for this throwback prairie from another era offered me something far more valuable than a simple photograph or two --- it offered, and I received from it other values: A new memory added to the already extensive collection of memories --- another one that would last for a lifetime.

I write and share many stories and photographs about the Tallgrass Prairie. There are reasons for doing so I suppose, but there are never enough words nor fine enough photographs to convey the full impact of such a place. The experience of being there is such a personal moment and not one that can easily be conveyed to others --- others who unfortunately may never develop the same level of appreciation for such things. I guess the most valuable lesson I have been gifted by exploring the prairie, is understanding the importance of the other values imparted by doing so. 

The prairie is a natural theater best observed not from the edges, but when fully surrounded within it. You cannot truly experience the magnitude of the prairie by simply driving through, and no quantity of photographs can capture the depth and impact of being there. They serve only to touch the surface and provide humble, visual shadows of the proper nature of the prairie. To gain the most inclusive measure of what it has to offer requires exploring it up close --- the deeper the better --- for when you do, the prairie not only invites you to listen to its story, you actually begin to hear what it has to say.

I have photographed the Tallgrass Prairie off and on for a good number of years and have yet to capture that one single photograph that speaks of the essence of what it really means. Nor have I been able to put into words the full extent of the feelings and emotions I experience while standing within its embrace. What I have stored instead are countless lifetime memories --- the other values --- that only reside deep within my personal convictions and even though down deep I understand what they mean, extracting from those thoughts the best combination of words to express them verbally has proven difficult. Even so, the only ones that truly matter are the ones stored most deeply inside for they are the ones that define most clearly why I love this place so much.

The tallgrass prairie has a rich and almost tragic history. Once covering over 400,000 square miles ranging from southern Canada through the heartland of America all the way to the gulf coast, very little of it remains --- almost destroyed by the most dramatic transformation of a natural landscape in human history. Of the three major prairie regions across the central United States (Shortgrass, Mixed Grass, Tallgrass) The tallgrass prairie was by far impacted the most. It's own diversity and rich soil became its downfall as it was transformed into farmland that feeds America and a good part of the world. At one time somewhere around 60 million American Bison roamed across its landscapes and most of them were slaughtered in a misguided desire to corral the Plains Indians and for profit. Only a few dozen survived and from that small remnant, today there are about 600,000 that are kept in preserves, national parks, and private ranches. The Tallgrass Prairie Preserve in Oklahoma is home to around 3000 or so and they roam free and wild across its almost 40,000 acres of original tallgrass prairie landscape.

That preserve is the largest protected area of original tallgrass prairie that still survives and is one of two locations where you can experience seeing unbroken horizon to horizon tallgrass prairie. The other is in the Konza prairie preserve in southeastern Kansas. Although somewhat smaller, it provides a unique and impressive preserve. Other locations fall within the ownership of private ranches and knowing for sure how much remains is difficult to determine, but what is known is that around 95% of the original Tallgrass region was lost between 1840 and 1890 --- in some places over 99% has been lost.

In more recent times, efforts to restore lost areas have been initiated, but these represent but a fraction of what once was. What once was --- Think of the State of Iowa as a 1000 piece puzzle. Iowa at one time was almost all Tallgrass Prairie, about 60,000 square miles, and that 1000 piece puzzle represents what the prairie once was. Today, only one piece of that puzzle remains --- and it is not connected but broken into smaller pieces. That is the extent of the loss of this once amazing ecosystem.

I have been asked several times why I keep returning to this landscape as I have taken thousands of photographs there already. It is a difficult question to provide an answer to someone who does not fully grasp the totality of what happened to the Tallgrass region. There is more to it than photographs, more to it than scanning the landscape from scenic overlooks, and more to it  than simple words can explain.

 It has to do with a connection to history, but a deeper connection than just word knowledge, but a connection that permeates well inside your personal vision of what that history represents. Never would I denigrate farming of the prairie or the people who make their living from the land. They have provided resources that have helped to make this country what it is today. However, understanding what once was and what is now leaves an empty space within my desire to experience what the prairie used to be. 

I have spent the better part of an afternoon sitting atop a high rocky knoll and watched hundreds of bison meander across the preserve from a distance. From there in every direction all I could see was tallgrass prairie, a landscape filled with prairie blooms and grasses swaying in the wind. No man made objects were in sight, nor sounds save for the occasional high flying airplane. There prevailed a calmness of spirit across the land and at times I could imagine seeing a hunting party of Plains Indians sitting on their painted ponies atop an adjoining hill as they watched the herd of bison (tatanka in Lakota, iinniiwa in Blackfoot...among others) meander across the landscape. It is an image rendered only within the imagination now, but one that sums up the loss of this amazing place.

Over the years as a photographer I have captured a good many images of various locations that inspire strong memories from within myself. I can recall within a moment the memories made when I captured them --- some stronger than others, most locked and stored down deep inside. Almost like when an aroma or a sound can rekindle a specific emotion, a single photograph will often reveal again the events surrounding its capture. Some humorous, some dramatic, many chance happenings, only a few truly remarkable, but most are forever embraced by fond memories --- memories locked inside for a lifetime.

Other values are the driving force behind why I keep returning to this place. It has been a few years now since I was last there. I suppose it is time to once again make time to return --- maybe soon if I can, yet even if I am unable to do so the connection to the memories generated by those other values serve me well and as a result I can return there as often as I prefer...from within the heart.

The Outdoor Photographers All Purpose 'Atta Boy...' Vehicle

 The rough Southeastern Oklahoma back road, filled with washed out gulley's and deep drop offs on either side, forced me to shift into 4-wheel drive. Loose gravel and dirt, kicked up by the tires, clattered against the underside of the wheel wells. Except for the action of the wipers my forward vision was almost obscured by muddy spray coming off the damp road that covered the side windows and back flap with a dingy brown film. I drove over a shallow rise and in front of me appeared a wide gravel and rocky bottom creek demonstrating a good flow from the extra early rain. I stopped and surveyed the conditions. The road clearly traversed the creek as it continued on the other side about thirty maybe forty yards away. It did not look too deep, but I had no way of knowing exactly how deep it was. I needed to cross so I shifted the 4x4 lever into 4-wheel low and placed the gear lever into second gear and started across. The ride across tested my skill as a 4x4 driver and I could feel the wheels crawling over and slipping across loose rocks as the water level climbed ever closer the lower reaches of the door. It took a moment or two of steady driving, but I crawled out of the creek onto the road on the other side and continued on. As I shifted again into 4-wheel high, I patted the dash of my Jeep and said,  "Atta boy..."

I have often said, "....a guy should never have a love affair with a vehicle...it's just gonna cost ya a lot of money." I must admit, I have rarely followed my own advice especially when it comes to my venerable 1997 Jeep Wrangler. I'll most likely never get rid of it and yes, it has cost me a few dollars from time to time to keep it running. Those dollars have been well spent though, as the old Wrangler has carried me now to over 310,000 miles and it seems to just keep on going. 

By now of course it has developed a character and personality of its own. Up close one can see the effects of over 25 years of tough driving. A few dings here and there, clear coat worn off the hood, some rusty spots repaired with a mixture of Bondo and spray paint, and if you crawl underneath, you will see welded patches applied to the frame to cover and correct some defects caused by corrosion. I replaced the transmission around 250,000 miles, the engine around 270,000 miles, and the rear differential around 280,000 miles. Last year I replaced the factory installed shocks which had almost 300,000 miles on them. I replaced the top long before any of those upgrades. Yeah, the old Wrangler is running better than ever. 

As an outdoor photographer and someone who pursues outdoor adventures in the process of taking photos, I need a vehicle I can depend on when the going gets a bit rough. I also need a vehicle I don't have to worry about getting dirty and this old Jeep is perfect for such things. Long ago I attached an overhead rack made by Olympic so I could easily carry my canoe. I also use it to carry other things a well. That addition has proven its worth countless times. Although the Jeep comes with a backseat, I sort of semi-permanently removed it a few years ago as I needed the cargo space more than passenger space.

The origin of the Jeep name carries some conjecture. One story says when Willy's first manufactured the Jeep for the Military it was designated a General Purpose vehicle. General Purpose eventually was shortened to GP which in time evolved into Jeep. The other story, and the one I tend to agree with, is that the Jeep was named after an old Popeye cartoon character of the era named Jeep. Jeep was this annoying little guy who could go anywhere, walk on the ceiling, pass through walls, float in the air, walk on water...he could go through and do just about anything. Well, the old Willy's vehicle proved itself capable of going just about anywhere so the name Jeep was adopted as it fit its capabilities. Regardless, it is a classic vehicle with a long and glorious heritage.

I can honestly say I have never been stuck while driving my Jeep, with one exception. And even then I was able using the Jeep's capabilities, to extricate myself. It was soon after I first purchased it I convinced Kris and the boys, who were pretty young then, to go with me up to a placed known as 'Little Sahara'. It's a unique place located out in Northwestern Oklahoma characterised by large sand dunes and is open to 4-wheel drive and ATV type vehicles for recreational use. 

Little Sahara (Internet Photo)

I wanted to give my then new-to-me 4-wheel drive vehicle a try. At first, the old Jeep sailed across the dunes with no problems and we were having a great time...until I decided to drive down into a low area where a few scrubby bush-like trees were growing. I figured I could climb out of there with no problem. Well, there was a problem. On the rise coming out, all four wheels dug in and I sunk pretty deep into loose sand and we could not go forward. I was able to back up and made several runs at climbing out to no avail. Kris was not happy and the boys just thought it was all in good fun. I was hoping I would not have suffer the indignity of asking another vehicle to winch me out. I backed up as far as I could go, told the boys to hang on because no matter what we were not stopping, and gunned it. With the engine whining, the tires dug into the sand and we started up the incline slowing down but still moving forward and just when it looked like we would not make it, the front tires grabbed more solid ground and out we came. 

Yeah, I have explored many a good day because that old Jeep provided the means to get there. The 4x4 feature certainly has payed off numerous times. Through snow, icy roads, heavy rain, crossing creeks, down rutted out backroads, and just driving on down the road, the old Jeep has carried me well over a quarter million miles in life. It has proven itself a great outdoor adventure / photography vehicle and I would never have been able to experience many of the adventures without it or would I have been able to capture many of the photographs I now have. Each of those photographs offers a back story unto themselves. Stories that reflect the confidence I had in a mechanical vehicle. From the time I first laid eyes on it, almost like a vision, somewhere in the back of my mind I envisioned driving that Jeep into the wilds and having the means to  get back without worrying if it might breakdown. Along the way, I captured a few fair to good photographs, but gained a lifetime of memories.

Sometimes though, my adventurous nature does not always match my wifes more homey nature, and to quote her infamous words from that day I almost got us stuck in the sand at Little Sahara, "Don't you ever do that again!" she yelled. Well, me and the boy's just grinned as I patted the dash and said "...Atta boy..."

Capturing the Broader Story...

First impressions are always the most important and influential and the first time I set foot upon the Tallgrass Prairie Preserve in Northern Oklahoma the moment so impressed me, it became a lifelong quest to return with camera in hand to capture this amazing landscape. It has been almost 30 years now since then and I have returned there many times and although it has been several years since my last visit, I still relish each and every photograph I've taken of that landscape. I have realized in more recent years there is no single photograph that can tell the story of the Tallgrass Prairie. It must be done by capturing the broader story via a series of images. The trick is to find the right number of images that collectively tell its story without overdoing it.

Time seems to roll back on the prairie. It is almost as though you have stepped through a time portal and into another era from long ago. A calmness prevails across the landscape and the Oklahoma prairie wind sweeps across the land and the tallgrasses dance in time with it almost guided by an invisible hand moving individual stems to act as one. There is a bigness to the landscape and indeed there are places on the preserve where you spin around 360 degrees and see nothing but horizon to horizon tallgrass prairie, one of the few places left where you can still do so. 

As a photographer, capturing a series of images that reflect the true dynamics of the prairie is a daunting challenge because there is so much diversity, how does one do such a thing. I've discovered that simply blitzing the location with thousands of photographs doesn't work. Nor does simply driving through it and stopping at scenic overlooks work. More thought and effort must be put into it. The prairie is something you must experience up close and the best way to do so is to walk into it. Even just a few yards will give you a fresher point of view, but to truly experience the prairie you must be prepared to hike a ways in. (As always, certain precautions should be adhered to; wear long pants tucked into your socks, liberal bug spray, good hiking boots as the terrain is rough, and always venture well clear of the several thousand American Bison or buffalo that roam across the landscape.)

One of my favorite locations within the preserve is a rocky arroyo located about a mile from the gravel road that cuts through the landscape. It is a tough hike in and tougher hike out as going in is sort of down hill, while coming out is mostly up hill. To capture the broader story of the prairie this location is a must place to experience. 

One of my favorite images, a prairie sunrise, was taken from a high point overlooking this arroyo. It truly captures  the majesty and grandeur of first light upon the landscape.

I'll never forget that morning. There was a coolness to air that early, even though it was early-summer, and the grass was filled with dew which soaked my pants legs and boots as I hiked in before sunrise. A slight breeze was rising out of the arroyo and prairie birds were beginning their morning songs.

 The prairie carries with it an aroma unlike any other place I've ever been. It is a fresh scent almost like a cross between new cut hay and damp earth. The morning sounds are carried on the wind and fill your senses with a stereoscopic surround sound. I simply waited that morning for the prairie sunrise to perform its epic routine and captured what I feel is a epic image from this unforgettable moment.

Capturing the broader story of the prairie involves more that a series of images, it must also include the emotion imparted from being there. I've had a longing to return again...maybe soon I hope. Even so I have enough memories and images from previous encounters to fill a lifetime. 

The Tallgrass Prairie's story is one of a magnificent landscape almost lost where 95% of it has been plowed under and paved over. Only a few remnants remain, and this preserve is one of the best and most rewarding. I truly love this place...and after 30 years...I've only just begun to capture its true identity.

Interpreting the Moment...Photographically

 Sometimes nature simply does not cooperate. All the planning and anticipation that goes into a photoshoot, at times, simply becomes obsolete when nature fails to live up to our expectations. Moments like these will challenge even the best photographer, yet moments such as these are what often presents a new and challenging interpretation opportunity of what nature does offer to the photographer.

One one such encounter nature threw a wild curveball at me. I was wanting to photograph one of those legendary prairie sunrises on the Tallgrass Prairie Preserve located just north of the small town of Pawhuska, Oklahoma. This preserve is by far my favorite place to photograph as it offers such a wide variety of opportunities plus it stands as one of the last remaining large tracts ( almost 40,000 acres) of original tallgrass prairie still in existence. Unfortunately, my time was limited and the weather turned stormy the night before which carried well into the morning. I made the drive anyway hoping the clouds just might part enough at sunrise to offer a chance at a photograph.

Well, they didn't. The morning sky was a solid gray wall with barely a sign of texture. The rain had subsided some, but it was still spitting light sprinkles and everything was wet. To make matters worse, that Oklahoma Prairie wind was whipping across the plains. The location I had picked out ahead of time turned out to be rather bland. I sat up my tripod anyway and waited for the appointed sunrise time that came and went with nary a hint of it happening. That wind just kept on blowing the prairie grass back and forth. In front of me a single tall Wild White Indigo plant leaned over heavily in the wind. Several minutes after official sunrise, I noticed a warm glow burning through the thick overcast. It was faint but continued to slowly grow in intensity.

As minimal as it was, this was my opportunity and I had to quickly reinterpret the situation. I moved the tripod over hoping to align the Indigo plant with the growing bullseye glow just above the horizon. The wind kept the plant leaning too far over for a photo. I held my breath...and waited. The glow began to subside and a few seconds before it disappeared, the wind died and the Indigo plant popped back upright and I fired off a couple of quick shots. The image shown above was the result. To this day, it remains one of my favorite Tallgrass Prairie images.

Interpreting the moment is what a nature photographer must know how to instinctively do. Conditions change so rapidly, you must evaluate the opportunity quickly and make a decision. It takes an eye for detail and for compositional elements. 

On most occasions, snap decisions are not required, but, interpreting the moment still applies. Interpretation is the operative word. Simple duplication of what you see does not work very well most times. It requires a solid grasp of how your camera responds to any given source of light and how to change the settings to obtain the desired effect. Your interpretation of the moment does not always have to be a xerox copy image of what you see., but it does offer the ability to visualize the possible outcome based on the light. Light then, is the key. Finding it, seeing it, locking onto it, and using it to interpret the mood you are wanting to capture is what separates ordinary picture takers from someone who captures moments that stir the imagination.

If you are photographing something simply because it looks nice or is pretty, then chances are your photo will fall short and only show the surface of the moment. But by observing more deeply into the light you can capture the total depth and vibrancy of what the light reveals and consequently whatever it is you are photographing.

It takes a willingness to endure the difficult requirements to find such moments. Things like rising well before sunrise, or braving cold and raining or snowy weather. Sometimes you have to develop a sixth sense and simply know when the conditions are prone to be good, and sometimes you must anticipate the possibilities and return again and again and again before the moment presents itself. The last photo is one such moment. To capture it required three months of effort and at least four return trips, three of which failed, before the interpretation of the moment for this location finally made itself evident.

Interpreting the Moment; it is an aspect of photography that requires time to develop, yet one that is indispensable to move beyond simple duplication of what you see and creating images that stir the soul. 

Fighting Kentucky Bucks: A Chance Encounter

 I love photographing the deer who frequent the fields and woodlands behind where I live. Kentucky is home to a healthy and diverse selection of Whitetail Deer and there is a local herd that has provided many fun photographic opportunities. A late evening chance encounter on a chilly, January day offered a wonderful photo op. Two nice bucks were but two of several deer feeding in the fields and they provided a natural show where their instinctive desire to dominate other bucks played out in front of my camera.

As they tend to do, late on this January day about a dozen or so deer meandered into the cornstubble fields behind my house. I had setup in a slightly different location from my normal spot in an attempt to gain better viewing of three fields. I kept my setup simple wearing camo clothing along with a leafy camo top covering. I also simply covered my camera and tripod with a small piece of camo burlap just to break up its pattern and to provide a small area for me to sit behind to also help mask any movements the deer might detect. It was simple and effective.

I sat under a large cedar tree situated on a corner of a wooded area which provided a dark background that helped to conceal and break up my silhouette. I had managed to capture quite a few images and some video footage and was about to lose most of the light. It was overcast and dark anyway, and as the day progressed toward sundown, the light rapidly faded. As the deer in front of me meandered away I thought it a good time to pack up and leave so as not to disturb them. 

As I gathered my gear, I noticed across the field to the northwest, several deer feeding. I zoomed in to take a look and found at least four bucks, two of which supporting pretty decent antlers. A third one looked odd and at closer inspection I discovered one of his antlers had broken off so he only had antlers on one side. That was unfortunate because the one he did have looked to be the largest of the three bucks. He eventually wandered off but the two others remained and to my surprise they began to spar with each other.

By this time the daylight grew darker every minute and they were a good 300 yards away. Even so, I could not pass up this opportunity and repositioned my tripod and zoomed in as far as my 500mm lens would take me.  It provided just enough reach and allowed for the capture of several minutes worth of those two going at it with each other.

Eventually, the light simply grew to low and I had to let them go, but being able to witness these two spar the way they did was a wonderful chance encounter. Sometimes events just happen and we find ourselves in the right place at the right time. Never had I witnessed in the wild two bucks sparring like that before. It was clear they were simply sparring and not aggressively fighting, but enough mild aggression from both gave the encounter a sense rawness in nature. 

Photographing deer in their natural environment partaking of their natural behavior unaware of you the photographers presence is always a challenge. Their senses are so defined they will detect the slightest of movements or lock onto the softest of unnatural sounds. The chatter of my camera's shutter release, although not particularly loud, but rather soft in nature, is still different enough from the natural sounds they hear all the time. They will pick up and lock onto the direction of the sound with ease. Often they will study with their keen eyes where that sound is coming from. Even though I always wear camouflaged clothing and a face mask, plus hide either behind a makeshift or natural blind, it seems they always locate me. 

To get close enough to capture compelling images is always a challenge even with a large telephoto lens. Deer possess that uncanny ability to know their surroundings and when anything is out of sync, they will investigate and then run off. It is why they have survived for as long as they have. I am truly fortunate to have a location I can easily access and photograph these amazing animals. So far, they seem to always have the last word in our interactions...but, that's perfectly okay with me. They challenge me and I keep learning...I still have much to learn about their behavior.

When the Weather is Bad...It's Really, Really Good

 The deep freeze that settled over Kentucky left its winter signature over the landscape with snow and sub freezing temperatures that extended for the better part of a week. All the ponds froze and even the larger lakes became encrusted with a layer of ice. By the beginning of the second week, warmer temperatures infiltrated along with a steady supply of rain that swamped the landscape for another week. Two weeks of bad weather and I loved it because, as a photographer, when the weather is bad, it is really, really good for capturing moody and dramatic light.

A break in the weather came toward the end of the icy week with broken clouds and blue sky peaking through. The daytime temps still hovered in the upper teens but I could not pass up the opportunity to return to one of my best rustic locations where the combination of snow, fence row, background trees, clouds, and sky offered one of those rare moments in Kentucky when all the ingredients fall into place for a winter wonderland scenic landscape. 

My fingers turned into icicles as I stood in the open with exposed finger tips. So numb they became, I could not feel the shutter release button and struggled to fired off the shots. Even so, I did manage to capture a few images, and my fingers quickly thawed once I returned to the confines of my Jeep.

I did manage to get out a few more times and photographed the local deer herd in the snow along with other landscape scenes. Always exciting to photograph deer in the fields. Add a layer of snow and cold air, the experience becomes almost surreal. Overcast skies and soft blue light gave the scene an historical measure as though being transported back in time to another era. Being warmly dressed, I braved the cold yet still felt its sting. All of it, every icy snowflake hitting my face, every numb finger, every chill infiltrating through the layers of clothing, was worth every moment.

Eventually, warmer weather settled in and the snow began to melt, but the ice covered ponds and lakes retained their icy mantle for several more days. This along with the rain and warmer temps created an amazing opportunity on Barren River Lake when fog drifted like a soft blanket across the still mushy frozen ice. I managed to spend most of a full day out there searching for and photographing this amazing combination of conditions.

With the rain and fog, it became so hazy, my camera found it difficult to find enough contrast to focus properly. I really had to struggle with it, but managed to make it all come together.

The fog was simply incredible in that it seemed to lay down close to the waters surface and slowly drift with the air currents which lifted the veil up and over the rugged shoreline and into the trees where it hovered like a ghostly apparition. It rained off and on, hard at times, but steady and eventually all that rain soaked through my rain gear and I became somewhat soggy. I loved it.

I made it over to the tailwaters area below the dam. There I discovered a good number of gulls flying around looking for something to eat as the small fish were washed through the turbines. I practiced following flying birds with my camera and big lens. Never been very good at such things, but did manage to catch a few shots of these amazingly graceful flyers. When spring comes, they will migrate back to their breeding grounds and will return again the next winter.

I must admit, it was fun to watch them zip and dart, then plunge into the water. If one happened to catch something, all the other gulls tried to steal it from him.

There were also Blue Herons standing in the tailwaters. Normally quite skittish, they seemed rather tame as I was able to easily approach them and capture a few images of their graceful stance.

The day became one of those iconic days, the kind of day that builds on the reservoir of memories collected from times past. I'll not long forget how the morning fog embraced the lakeshore and how the rain blended with the fog to create a soft misty atmosphere. Cold fingers, soggy clothing from leaky rain gear, constantly drying wet camera gear...yeah, when the weather turns bad, more often than not, it is good for the photographer. 

I suppose it is simply a matter of perspective, but one where you must be willing to charge into the moment and expect the best outcome regardless of the conditions. The roughly two weeks of marginal weather provided some wonderful opportunities to explore the best of nature at her...worst.

Black and White: What Makes It So Appealing

 The first time I gazed across and through an Ansel Adams photograph, I, for the first time, discovered the power and strength of a black and white photograph. Ever since that time so many years ago, black and white photography has held an appeal for me. Putting into words why that is, is much more difficult than actually creating the images, for black and white does not always appeal to everyone. It seems to take a deeper grasp of the revealing nature of black and white, one that comes from within as opposed to a simple visual connection. The roots of my journey into black and white photography flows back to my first attempts at photography as a youth when I first used my grandparents old Kodak Nbr 1 box film camera. From those early days until now, black and white inspires me to see the world through a different set of eyes, and that inspiration helps me to lift the veil inherent within a color photograph to reveal the hidden graphic nature of black and white.

We live in a world filled with color, yet even today with all the technology available to the photographer, there is still a place for black and white. A black and white image is timeless in that what is captured and printed could very well be a throwback to a hundred years before. The distraction of color has been removed and what is left is the vision the photographer encountered during a single moment in time.

It takes a different way of seeing to look past the color world and identify the textures, shapes, forms, compositional elements, contrasts, and power of the light, that remains. Finding it is often illusive. Capturing it not always easy. Yet when it is there, the trained eye can look past what nature shows us in color, to identify a hidden appeal where all of those elements just mentioned come to life. Knowing what will translate well into a black and white image comes with experience and that is gained through a willingness to try something new.

Walking away from what we see naturally, is not always readily accomplished. Yet, when it works, the strength of the moment stands apart from what was at one time a simple visual occurrence, to become a transformed emotional graphic representation of what was felt. In fact, once color has been removed, all that remains is the emotional experience, and black and white can effectively capture those moments like no other visual medium.

Winter Photography - Whitetail Deer, Sandhill Cranes, and A Coyote

 A cold front fell across Kentucky this week, the kind where the landscape froze under a blanket of snow and the wind knifed through every layer of clothing. Along with it came a photographic opportunity I could simply not pass up. In spite of the frigid temperatures, I ventured to the cornfields and setup my simple camo-burlap blind and waited for the deer to find their way into their feeding grounds. 

During that wait, a flight of about two hundred Sandhill Cranes flew over, their ancient migration a right of passage for all nature photographers. Although they did not set down in front of my location, they did set down nearby. Just seeing them was reward enough. 

A short while later I noticed some movement across the cornstubble. A quick look through the camera's long lense revealed a coyote searching for a meal. He was not typical of most coyotes around here. He looked strong and healthy and his thick coat carried a lot of black across his back and sides and the length of his tail. He also had a while chin and lower neck. I thought he might have been what is known as a coydog, a cross between a wild coyote and a domesticated dog. Regardless, he was fun to watch.

After a while he trotted the length of the field and crossed in front of me and passed over into the other western field. A few moments later, I heard snorts of distress and alarm from the deer as they encountered this marauding hunter. The coyote must have caught something for there was a continuous crying of alarm sounding a lot like a dying rabbit, but not exactly the same. It also carried the sound of a young deer being alarmed, the kind of sound that alerted and agitated the deer herd. They, wanting to distance themselves from the coyote, entered the field in front of me where I was able to capture both video and still shots of these amazing animals.

Come and join me on this fascinating, very cold and snowy, photographic hunt across the farm country of Kentucky.

Photographing Kentucky Deer

 Spent a few hours on a cold January day videoing the deer that inhabit the fields and woodlands around where I live. 

The DIY Wooden Double End Canoe Paddle

 They both had sat in my garage for the better part of four decades. One I had used quite a lot in those early days when budget and desire often collided. The other was rarely used and served simply as a backup...just in case. I'm talking about two inexpensive wooden Feather Brand canoe paddles. The older one was so heavily aged it had developed a dark patina where the finish was no longer smooth and clear but had turned a dark brown complete with deep gouges, nicks, and separating laminents (fixed with heavy duty staples). The other still looks almost new except for some minor laminate separation near the end of the blade (also fixed) and a few scuff marks. Neither canoe paddle had been used for probably over twenty years, but both were still sound in spite of needing some minor repairs. They were destined for a new life and were to become the source of a DIY wooden double end canoe paddle.

(Going to briefly step away from photography and talk a bit more about the outdoor aspect of this site. The past several seasons I have become more involved with backpacking, and canoe camping, employing photography and videography as an element of those adventures. This short piece explains how I managed to make a wooden double canoe paddle. The project was pretty easy to do and a lot of fun to complete.)

Virtually all of my canoe experience involved using a single paddle. In spite of all the off and on years of canoeing, I never really perfected what is called the J-Stroke. That is where you paddle on one side of the canoe for extended periods, but maintain a straight course by rotating the paddle outward at the end of the stroke to gently guide the canoe back onto your intended course. I usually applied a simple or modified version of the J-Stroke by simply dragging the paddle blade at the end of a stroke and use it as type of rudder to steer a somewhat straight path. It worked, but was and is somewhat inefficient and you lose a lot of momentum in the process. The thought of using a double end paddle never really occurred to me. They of course, in my way of thinking, were used in the realm of kayaks, not canoes.

Prototype joint

In recent times I started watching and following several outdoor related YouTube video programs and by doing so noticed how often the hosts were using double end paddles while canoeing. What really caught my attention was just how straight they tracked and how rapidly and smoothly they moved across the water. Intrigued, I visited the local Cabela's store to check out their selection of double end paddles. Well, lets just say I did not want to spend $80 to over $100 dollars for a paddle but I did gain some insights into the length of, and configuration of the ones they had.

On the way home, I remembered those two old paddles hanging up in my garage and was inspired by a epiphany; why not combine them to make my own! I pulled them down and laid them out on the garage floor and measured their combined length which was somewhere around 100 inches. Way too long. I overlapped the handles about foot or so and using three heavy duty zip ties, laced them together. 

Prototype

The overall length ended up about 90 inches. I also took a length of paracord and tightly wound it around the joint for reinforcement. A day or two later, I was on the water giving it a try...and to my astonishment, it worked great! My paddling technique required some improvement, but I soon got the hang of it and continued to use this prototype for several more trips.

Once I knew the idea was sound, I decided to permanently join the two paddles. The way I accomplished this was to cut a few inches off the handle, then using my son's table saw (you can cut the notches by hand if you are careful), I cut about a 10 inch notch in the end of both. These notches were then overlapped to form a joint. Liberally applying some strong glue and clamping the ends together, after a few hours, the joint was good and solid, but not nearly as strong as I wanted. 

Joint strengthened with paracord and
inserted wooden dowels

To strengthen the joint, I drilled three 5/16 inch evenly spaced holes in the joint then glued and tapped in three wooden dowels. After they set up, I cut off the excess dowel, sanded, and applied a few coats of varnish. I still was not satisfied, so using the previous length of paracord, I tightly rewrapped the joint to provide that extra bracing. Near the base of both paddles I inserted a block of foam pipe insulation, taping both pieces to each end of the paddle and also applied a short decorative section of paracord to keep them in place. These served to prevent water from running down your arms during the paddle rotation on each stroke.

I could not wait to give it a try and within a day or so was back on the water and the results were fantastic. I was able to smoothly cover more distance at a faster pace with less effort. This diy double paddle has become my go to paddle when I am wanting to make a long canoe trip. I've already made two long day trips on the lake, one 15 miles and another about 18 miles, and plan on even longer ones this upcoming new season. 

I still use a single paddle and always carry one with me as a spare should the double one break and should I make a river trip, I believe the single paddle would be a better choice. In recent weeks, I actually built two wooden single paddles from scratch. One was made using poplar and the other using ordinary pine. 

Both were cut out with a jigsaw and shaped using a jack plane, spoke plane, and a block plane along with a belt sander and orbital sander. The one made of poplar, I glued laminated edges to the blade to make it a little wider. To each about 6 to 8 coats of varnish was applied. The poplar one turned out so nice, to avoid risking damaging it, I decided not to use it, but to enjoy it as a finished piece of woodworking...it looks more like a piece of furniture and is standing in the corner of the dining room. The other one made from pine, is a bit more roughly made and I will actually use it. It is about 5 inches longer than my other paddles so I'm curious about its performance and how well  it will hold up and handle. Both use a length of hardwood along the shaft to strengthen it at the weakest point.

The double paddle will not breakdown into two parts, but it is actually quite easy to transport without doing so. However, I am planning on building another one, but design it so it can be broken down into two components to make it a bit easier to transport. Still working on the design concept and it should, as did the two single paddles, provide for a fun winter project.

The nice thing about these projects was that neither of them cost me much of anything. The double paddle project was simple and the two wooden single paddles were both fun projects in their own right. Building the double paddle being so simple, no video is really required to understand how to make one, but I did include a few photos to help clarify what it looks like. There is nothing like the look and feel of a wooden canoe paddle.

Campfire Moments

 Some of the best memories are the ones made sitting around a campfire. Whether with good friends, family, or simply alone, campfires provide a welcoming warmth to all who gaze into their hypnotic flames. A camping location becomes home when the campfire is stoked into life. 

During a recent return overnight backpacking trip into Mammoth Cave NP, another such campfire provided moments of warmth during a cold evening and even colder morning. Please enjoy...Campfire Moments