A Walk In The Woods: Discovering Visual Moments of the Heart

 There are days when events seem to press heavily upon me. No one is immune from such things. It's just a part of life I suppose and as we grow older the accumulated effects of enduring what at times seems like a never ending stream of pressing moments take a toll on your life. 

As a reult, sometimes I just feel like getting out and taking a walk in the woods. Not nearly often enough do I seek refuge there, but when I do, I rediscover the soothing effects places like woodlands possess. Woodlands, they have become one of my favorite locations to get away and to carry a camera for within them a photographer can discover a myriad of visual moments of the heart. 

It matters not what time of day, kind of day, or time of year, a woodlands will speak far beyond the visual to anyone who enters its realm. 

When light filters through the canopy and sets the leaf edges ablaze with color, or when a morning mist finds its way through the random corridors of trees, who among us can resist taking a moment to just absorb what nature offers. 

As a photographer, I sometimes forget to take those moments of silence to just look. Instead I often get caught up with setting up the shot, working out the exposure values, and checking the results when I should just stop and visually capture what is there. Sort of defeats the purpose of being there when I spend more time looking through the camera instead of observing through the heart. 

There are times I do just that, usually when I don't take my camera along, so I can better focus on the real reason I am there. There have been times I've missed a few camera shots, but they are not lost, really. They are stored in my heart...just for me to enjoy as a memory.

Although I enjoy walking through the woods anytime of year, my favorite is probably fall, especially here in Kentucky. It is during this season the woods come alive with color, and when you catch it all, the light, the color, the mist, the breeze, the reflections, aromas, the feeling, well, it makes being a photographer much easier.

Even a simple nature walk can work wonders, but I really enjoy a longer outing. Sometimes it requires a bit of effort, but I do enjoy making a backpacking trip from time to time during the fall season when the air is cooler, the bothersome bugs are gone, and the colors simply fill your soul. 

Once you've reached your destination and get settled in, it becomes time to just enjoy the moment. A campfire, a one pot meal, then time to expand out on the ground cover of leaves and stretch your back.

Take a moment to gaze upward through the canopy of trees, then just close your eyes and allow the sounds of the woodlands infiltrate deep inside. No finer symphony exists than the movement of the leaves as the breeze searches through their realm high above. On a blue sky day, the contrast of colors produces a no finer work of art. Why don't I do this more often, I ask myself when such moments are allowed to exist for my world. Being retired now, well, there are no more excuses.

Winter of course can be a challenge but it offers a unique opportunity as the light and shadows run deep and long and what is obscured by foliage most of the year suddenly become visible. 

When snow is on the ground the texture and atmosphere of the woodlands transforms into a wonderland. Crisp and clean, fresh and clear, a snow covered woodlands is a delight to explore.

When the snow melts the woods become filled with a damp aroma that clings to everything in sight. At once refreshing and enchanting, and again subtle and bold at the same time. When the woods becomes saturated everything becomes darker in texture and more quiet in atmosphere. The sound of footsteps are muffled, yet the chatter of birds becomes cleaner and magnified. The woods simply takes on a different aura, one that will renew your mind and fill your lungs with fresh air.

It's not always the big scenes that become most important. Often, the smaller more subtle images take center stage. It's the small details that define the woodlands more precisely. 

A single flower, and single brown leaf still clinging to a limb, a clump of snow nestled into a cleft of a branch, the odd green leaf budding from a winters branch, a butterfly sitting lightly on a bloom or a tree stump lying on its side. These are the items that define the depth of a woodlands...and they are easily overlooked.

Woodland edges can also provide a treasure of photo ops. It is there you find a great many plants and wildlife you may not otherwise see. 

The light is often brighter and sharper here but that offers other photo opportunities where plants can be back lit and wildlife feed on the shoots and feel safe having the refuge of the woods nearby. You may also find fencerows or old sheds and barns near the edges of woodlands. All of these make for rustic scenes that enhance the moment.

A walk in the woods to discover a visual moment of the heart can often refill the emptiness that so often infiltrates into our lives. Those emptying events we have little control over, but we can make time to take a walk in the woods.

Take your camera along for the ride and search for those simple compositions that define the woods you are in. But most of all, find time to simply be still and listen to allow the woods to fill your heart with its healing properties.

 

A Memorial Day Tribute: Okinawa Story - One from 'The Greatest Generation'

 April 1st 1945 U.S. Army, Navy, and Marine forces invaded the Japanese Island of Okinawa.  The ensuing struggle became the bloodiest and most difficult battle of the Pacific war.  My dad was there. A few years ago, my brother gave me a call and asked if I would write something about my dad's war time experiences.  A good friend of his, who was the editor of the local newspaper, wanted to print the story as a surprise to my dad and in honor of all those from The Greatest Generation. The following is from that article.

The well known journalist Tom Brokaw once coined the phrase ‘The Greatest Generation’ referring to the young men and women of this country who were thrown into a world conflict in the 1940’s known as The Second World War.  For those who have been counted as such, few would ever acknowledge claim to that title.  For them, well…they simply were doing what they had to do.

One of the great privileges of my life is to have known someone from that generation. A few months prior to the start of the year 2000, I sat down with my dad, Kenneth L. Bridgman of Okmulgee, Oklahoma, with a microphone and tape recorder and for several hours recorded his memories and experiences of his military service during World War II.  Even though I grew up hearing stories about those years and times, my dad rarely ever spoke of the events that challenged his young adult life.  As he began to revisit those memories, they seemed as fresh and clear as if from more recent times and yet his words resonated with a nostalgic clarity born from having personally experienced the horrors of war and the satisfaction of having done ones duty during those traumatic and dangerous years.

Reflecting on what my dad experienced during the war years generates mixed emotions as many of America’s young men and women today are once again in harms way engaged in overseas fighting.  There is a kindred spirit of sorts that connects their generation with those from the Second World War.  It is a spirit worth sharing.

He was barely 19 years old when he shipped off to the South Pacific as a corporal in the U.S. Army attached to the 321^st Engineer Combat Battalion as part of the 96^th Infantry Division (The Deadeye Division).  He scored well at the gunnery range receiving at the time the second highest score ever recorded in the battalion, second only to the sergeant in charge of the outfit.  As a result he was given special training in defensive preparations and was assigned the responsibility of being in charge of all the unit’s machine gun operations.  That responsibility included not only maintaining the 30 caliber light machine guns but the heavier water cooled 50 caliber guns as well, plus making sure they were transported, operational, manned, and supplied.  He often found himself manning those emplacements as well.

His unit was actively involved in General Douglas MacArthur’s ‘Return to the Philippines’ as they landed on the shores of Leyte in 1944 to support the combat units reclaiming territory the Japanese had taken earlier in the war.  The 321^st Engineers were more than a support unit. They were actively engaged in combat rolls and many times went in ahead of the infantry to prepare the way.  

Sometimes they took out seawalls that blocked exits off a landing beach, other times repaired or built bridges, often under fire.  Their charge one day might be to support an offensive, or assemble Bailey Bridges across a ravine or river, or to remove or mark a mine field, and to even take out concrete bunkers.  Whatever their call, my dad’s unit was often upfront in the thick of deadly fire.

As tough as the Leyte campaign was, Okinawa proved to be the largest and most difficult battle of the Pacific theater.  The 96^th Infantry along with the U.S. Army 7^th and U.S. Marines 1^st and 6^th divisions invaded Okinawa on April 1, 1945.  Being one of the home islands of Japan, it was defended with fanatical tenacity by one of Japans toughest and best lead military units…the Japanese 32^nd Army.  

The Japanese all through the Pacific proved themselves as tough fighters, and Okinawa proved just how tough, disciplined, and well trained they were.  Their underground fortifications positioned along a series of ridges and escarpments traversing a narrow pinch on the southern end of the island were specifically designed to inflict heavy casualties. What was encountered along this Shuri Line was the largest concentration of Japanese firepower that confronted the American forces anywhere in the Pacific theater.

The 96^th was a major contributor to the breaching of that line and name places such as Kakazu, Tombstone, Nisharu, and Hacksaw Ridges…Conical Hill and Charlie Hill…are forever engrained into the history and exploits of the battalion.  The 321^st Combat Engineers were there through it all.

Although during our recording session, my dad spoke of many experiences, there was one experience he spoke about in a more subdued manner.  His unit had stopped moving forward and setup for the evening.  As was his duty, he setup several machine gun emplacements around the perimeter as a defensive measure and assigned himself on point…the area most likely to encounter any kind of an attack during the night.  As it turned out, his commanding officer indicated that my dad needed to head back to the landing beach area and help unload supplies which was an all night, physically challenging thing in its own right.  Although he argued the point about needing to stay, the officer told him to head out and get someone else to take his post on the point.  That evening the Japanese attacked their position and the point location took heavy fire and the man he appointed to take his place was severely wounded and later died.  Many years after the fact, as he recalled the incident, I could still see in his eyes just how moved he was by what had happened.

One of the most revealing things I learned during our recording session was just how often the Good Lord protected my dad.  Indeed, my grandmother often told me when I was younger how she and my grandfather would every morning and every evening kneel next to their bed and pray for the safety of their son…their only child.  Those prayers were most certainly answered more than once.

There was one incident where it appeared his unit was going to stop moving for an extended time, so he gathered a bunch of timbers and old tin roofing material and built a make shift bunker of sorts…one that would protect him from just about anything except a direct hit.  Shortly before sundown, the sergeant came by and told all of them to gather their gear for they were moving out pronto.  During the night an intense artillery duel ensued with shells flying from both sides over their position. 

By morning, things had calmed down, and he needed to return to his make shift bunker to get some supplies he had left behind as they had moved out so quickly the day before.  When he found his bunker…it had taken a direct hit by a Japanese artillery round destroying everything in and around it.  Had his unit not moved out, he would have been in that bunker…and I would not be writing this article now.

His unit was manned by a bunch of tough characters many of them coming from construction and heavy equipment operations before the war.  During the blur of combat difficult moments and snap decisions are often made, sometimes with tragic results…sometimes with uncanny insight.  In all of the carnage…during all of the stress of combat…my dad’s humanity saved the life of a Japanese soldier.  His unit had captured a scared and confused young Japanese private not much older than he was.  Things had been rather chaotic and some of the guys in his unit wanted to shoot the guy and be done with it for they didn’t have time to deal with him.  My dad stepped in and argued against doing so, saying that the guy was no longer a threat to anyone…couldn’t they see that he was scared to death.  They just needed to hang onto him for a while until they could find an officer to take him back for interrogation.  Before too long an officer did drive by in a Jeep and he flagged him down…and turned over the Japanese soldier to him...saving the life of not just a foe…but another human being.

Notice the camera?
 It's an old Argus C3

With the anniversary of the Okinawa campaign on the horizon and in light of the recent earthquake and tsunami disaster in Japan, it somehow seems fitting to reflect on just how much the world has changed since those tumultuous times.  Those who were once a bitter enemy are now a trusted friend and our hearts and prayers go out to the Japanese people and nation.

The legacy of the greatest generation and my dad is less about the political environment of the world in the 1940’s, and more about the character of a nation as experienced through the lives of those who lived it.  They were ordinary men, thrown into an extraordinary situation…and changed the world for the better.  We are all part of that legacy and are forever indebted to that generation…Although my dad would never say it…I will say it for him…I am proud that he can be counted as one from ‘The Greatest Generation’.

(My dad passed away several years ago as he approached the age of 92. He remained in relatively good health for most of his life, always active and athletic up until the last few years, he always lived his life with courage and honor caring for my mother until her death a few years before his. The stories of his WWII exploits were first told to me by my grandmother as a very young boy growing up in Oklahoma. I've always treasured those stories and after we made the recordings, copies of them along with this same article were sent to the Oklahoma Historical Society Oral History Department and archived along with other war stories from that same generation. About a year and a half before my dad passed away, my brother unexpectedly passed away from complications sustained from exposure to Agent Orange received during his stint in Vietnam. My grandfather, having served during WWI as part of an artillery unit, sustained damaging injuries to his lungs from poison gas which gave him great distress as he grew older. I spent four years performing search and rescue operations off the Oregon Coast while serving in the United States Coast Guard during the tail end of the Vietnam War Era. It was an experience I would not trade for anything.)

Keith Bridgman 

Kentucky Skies: Adapting to Changing Situations

Sometimes, possibly most times, as a photographer I struggle to make sense of the natural world and capture it in such a way as to make a photographic statement. I'm not always successful, in fact I fail more times than I succeed. But, I keep trying, keep looking and searching for those moments that stand apart from the ordinary. Fortunately, Kentucky is filled with wonderful photographic opportunities. One of the most consistent is the Kentucky Sky.

Sunsets have been photographed so often and by so many good photographers, capturing something truly unique is, well...not easy. It takes more than just a nice sunset. It requires being present during a set of conditions that slowly builds second by second until just the right moment when it reaches a peak. It also takes patience from the photographer to know when to release the shutter.

Over the years I have visited many sunsets, but only a few stand apart, in different ways, yet they retain one thing in common: I recognized an opportunity might develop, and I sought out the moment. As I think through the process of how these photo's were captured, I realize just how important it was to keep my photographic radar operating and to be willing to adapt to the changing situations. I also know you do not have to capture a scene exactly the way you see it. You capture the emotion of the moment, the way you feel it. You visualize the potential and use all the tools available to create a finished product. That includes exposure compensation, filters, lens selection, timing, and post processing technique.

I love photographing sunsets and sunrises although I rarely pursue it on a consistent basis. I just get a feeling sometimes that a nice sunset will appear and that is usually based on how the cloud cover progresses through the day. The best times are when the sky begins to break up just before sundown which often leads to dramatic reflections of light illuminating the underside of the clouds. I'd guess maybe one in ten times will the conditions produce something that causes you to stand in awe of the moment, but that is a price I am willing to pay to witness such a wonderful display.

Sunset photos do very well when the composition is simplified. Late summer when the air is thick with humidity can turn the sun into a giant orange ball. Throw in a simple foreground and the results can be magical. I will often simply drive around my local area looking for potential places where a sunset photo might play out with the proper conditions. I make mental notes of these places and when the whim and conditions hit me just right, I don't waste time looking for a spot, I know exactly where I need to be and make sure I am there well ahead of time.

I can't tell you how many times I've done that, only to have the conditions fizzle at the last minute. But, that's okay, because the only way to truly capture a unique sunset is to be there, and that sometimes means it doesn't happen. I always learn from those moments, things like reading the clouds, watching the weather report, listening to my instincts, all of these come into play, and that also includes dumb luck sometimes.

As attractive as they are, sunsets do not always need to be big and bold. Color is always an option and sometimes the conditions produce contrasting or opposing colors. These can be some of the most dramatic and mesmerizing images, especially when formed within a simplistic framework. 

Sunsets can be overlooked by photographers as something that is mostly overdone, however, I still find them amazing and fun to capture. Summer can produce some of the best conditions, but you must think through the process and adapt to the changing conditions, especially as part of Kentucky Skies.