Please enjoy.
Keith
Sunday, May 19, 2019
Prairie Song - A Video by Keith Bridgman
Thunderstorms, tornado warnings, torrential rains and high winds, along with heavy overcast skies and poor to terrible lighting conditions hindered my ability to capture all of the video footage I desired to create this most difficult yet exciting video about the Tallgrass Prairie. In spite of all, I managed to get enough footage with enough new photographs combined with some archived photographs to create Prairie Song.
Please enjoy.
Keith
Please enjoy.
Keith
Wednesday, April 24, 2019
I Took A Hike One Day
Coming soon I will once again visit possibly my favorite place; Oklahoma's Tallgrass Prairie Preserve. I plan on spending the better part of 5 full days there and weather permitting, I will also re-photograph this wonderful landscape. The following is a reprint from 2011 of a previous encounter in the prairie. Please enjoy again; I Took A Hike One Day
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Another story-like end of the day drifted toward its conclusion as I watched from the top of Coneflower Hill...one more episode counted among the countless end-of-the-day episodes one can discover on the prairie. Why I was there finds its roots going back a good number of years, but simply stated, I was there because I took a hike one day.
Cone Flower Hill is not an official name...it's simply what I call this rounded knoll with a rocky outcropping on top that sits a quarter mile or more off the gravel road that meanders through the Tallgrass Prairie Preserve near Pawhuska, Oklahoma. I found it a few years ago almost by accident while looking for a location to observe and photograph those amazing prairie sundowns. It's not much of a hill really, but rises maybe something less than a hundred feet higher than the surrounding landscape. Long flanks covered with thick prairie grass, cut by drainage and scarred by bison travel, characterize the climb to the top...a climb more difficult than it might seem at first.
Just north of the summit lies a large pond tucked into the recess of the rolling terrain. Around it's perimeter grow acres of wildflowers including the Pale Purple Cone Flower...where the hill gets its name. On the summit of the hill a rocky outcrop exposed to who knows how many years of weathering, provides a break on the smooth lines of the rolling hills. It's a good place to just sit and feel the prairie wind in your face.
It is one of the quietest places one can find, quiet in the sense there are few if any man-made noises that influence the atmosphere...just the dancing of the tall grasses and choreographed ballet of the cone flowers as they move in time with the whimsical undulations of the prairie wind. It is a natural musical of natures best assortment of players.
To the west the landscape changes as it breaks its rhythm from the slow rolls to rise abruptly toward mesa like outcroppings. In all directions one is afforded an unobstructed view of this marvelous landscape broken only by distant indications of man's presence.
Why am I here...why do I return time and again? I took a hike one day, and discovered a place for the heart that was mine alone...a place where ones inner strength is restored by the reflections of what once was...reflections of times past that remain unchanged. I took a hike one day and rediscovered who I was.
Keith
******************************************************************************
Another story-like end of the day drifted toward its conclusion as I watched from the top of Coneflower Hill...one more episode counted among the countless end-of-the-day episodes one can discover on the prairie. Why I was there finds its roots going back a good number of years, but simply stated, I was there because I took a hike one day.
Cone Flower Hill is not an official name...it's simply what I call this rounded knoll with a rocky outcropping on top that sits a quarter mile or more off the gravel road that meanders through the Tallgrass Prairie Preserve near Pawhuska, Oklahoma. I found it a few years ago almost by accident while looking for a location to observe and photograph those amazing prairie sundowns. It's not much of a hill really, but rises maybe something less than a hundred feet higher than the surrounding landscape. Long flanks covered with thick prairie grass, cut by drainage and scarred by bison travel, characterize the climb to the top...a climb more difficult than it might seem at first.
Just north of the summit lies a large pond tucked into the recess of the rolling terrain. Around it's perimeter grow acres of wildflowers including the Pale Purple Cone Flower...where the hill gets its name. On the summit of the hill a rocky outcrop exposed to who knows how many years of weathering, provides a break on the smooth lines of the rolling hills. It's a good place to just sit and feel the prairie wind in your face.
To the west the landscape changes as it breaks its rhythm from the slow rolls to rise abruptly toward mesa like outcroppings. In all directions one is afforded an unobstructed view of this marvelous landscape broken only by distant indications of man's presence.
Why am I here...why do I return time and again? I took a hike one day, and discovered a place for the heart that was mine alone...a place where ones inner strength is restored by the reflections of what once was...reflections of times past that remain unchanged. I took a hike one day and rediscovered who I was.
Keith
Friday, April 19, 2019
Creating Photographs From the Heart
Still on my break from blogging but here is a re-post from 2013. It is about the connection a great photograph has with a great musical score. Please enjoy again, Creating Photographs From the Heart.
*****************************************************************************
A number of years had passed since I last watched that movie, but recently I sat through another viewing and remembered it being as entertaining and revealing as the first time. Some of you may have seen it...Mr. Holland's Opus...a story about a musician who temporarily falls back on his teaching degree until he can start composing his great American Symphony full time. He ends up teaching for 30 years and during that time is transformed and changes the lives of hundreds of students. One of those students was a young lady who struggled with learning how to play the clarinet...hard as she tried...she just could not grasp what it took to master that instrument. Then one day Mr. Holland asked her what she liked best about herself when she looked into a mirror...her answer was her bright red hair as it reminded her dad of the sunset. Mr. Holland then told her to play the sunset...and removed the sheet music that had become the crutch that held her back. Within moments, her playing was transformed into something that can only come from the heart.
Too often I fail to capture the photographs I feel in my heart...probably because I too rely too much on crutches that actually hold me back more than help. Oddly enough, I discovered almost by accident what makes a great photo...and it's probably not what you might think. The crutches we use result from too much worrying about the mechanics of the camera and not thinking enough about why we are there...what are we looking for...what is it inside of us we know is there...but struggle to give it meaning...to give it a voice.
You see, photography is so much like music, yet we too often fail to recognize it. Photograph the music in your heart...might be somewhat of an unorthodox way of approaching the craft...but thinking in those terms just might be the catalyst that propels your photography to a new level. Light is the mood generating notes of photography...but music becomes the melody of that light...and all photographic moments carry with it a silent musical score photographers can feel from within.
Each photographic moment carries with it a different melody...unique in strength and power. You know it when you see it...because you don't really see it visually...you experience it internally. A photographic moment that sings or fills the air with symphonic crescendo's...will in due course generate a photograph that carries a sense of orchestration...a place where the mood and atmosphere comes from.
Photography, if you stop and think about it, does closely parallel the mood generating effects of a great musical score. Tapping into that power and searching for light that is filled with a great performance...well...you'll know it when it happens...you just have to give the silent music from within a visual voice.
Keith
*****************************************************************************
A number of years had passed since I last watched that movie, but recently I sat through another viewing and remembered it being as entertaining and revealing as the first time. Some of you may have seen it...Mr. Holland's Opus...a story about a musician who temporarily falls back on his teaching degree until he can start composing his great American Symphony full time. He ends up teaching for 30 years and during that time is transformed and changes the lives of hundreds of students. One of those students was a young lady who struggled with learning how to play the clarinet...hard as she tried...she just could not grasp what it took to master that instrument. Then one day Mr. Holland asked her what she liked best about herself when she looked into a mirror...her answer was her bright red hair as it reminded her dad of the sunset. Mr. Holland then told her to play the sunset...and removed the sheet music that had become the crutch that held her back. Within moments, her playing was transformed into something that can only come from the heart.
Too often I fail to capture the photographs I feel in my heart...probably because I too rely too much on crutches that actually hold me back more than help. Oddly enough, I discovered almost by accident what makes a great photo...and it's probably not what you might think. The crutches we use result from too much worrying about the mechanics of the camera and not thinking enough about why we are there...what are we looking for...what is it inside of us we know is there...but struggle to give it meaning...to give it a voice.
Each photographic moment carries with it a different melody...unique in strength and power. You know it when you see it...because you don't really see it visually...you experience it internally. A photographic moment that sings or fills the air with symphonic crescendo's...will in due course generate a photograph that carries a sense of orchestration...a place where the mood and atmosphere comes from.
Photography, if you stop and think about it, does closely parallel the mood generating effects of a great musical score. Tapping into that power and searching for light that is filled with a great performance...well...you'll know it when it happens...you just have to give the silent music from within a visual voice.
Keith
Thursday, April 11, 2019
Camera's Do...Photographers Dream
Taking a break for the next several weeks from blogging, but I will repost older blogs to fill in the gap. Here's one from January 2014. It's a short article about the difference between simply taking pictures of things and using your imagination and vision to create amazing photographs.
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The sophistication built into cameras today is quite phenomenal when compared to what was available even just a few years ago. But cameras by themselves do not take photographs they simply do as they are told. It is the visual dreams of the photographer that creates the magic of a great photograph.
*********************************************************************************
The sophistication built into cameras today is quite phenomenal when compared to what was available even just a few years ago. But cameras by themselves do not take photographs they simply do as they are told. It is the visual dreams of the photographer that creates the magic of a great photograph.
I’ve been asked a few times more often than not, questions focused around learning the technical aspects of how to use the camera. Understanding the technical elements is important, but it is not all important. As in most things, you can teach technique, but you cannot teach someone how to dream.
When I speak of visual dreams I am referencing how the photographer imagines the world. It is more emotional than technical. When photographer’s tap into what stirs their imagination and then applies that emotional connection to the world around them, their photographic artistry is magically influenced by those visions.
Seeing the world from an emotional point of view can alter your visual perspective about photography. If all you ever achieve is capturing images of things, then you tend to rely on the intrinsic values of the thing to create your photograph. But when you rely on visualizing the world based on what stirs your emotions, your photography elevates to a higher plane of understanding.
Mechanics can only take you so far, but creative dreams are endless. It is the photographer who taps into that creative desire, who allows himself to focus emotional energy, that will capture amazing images of ordinary things. If all we do is look at objects and photograph objects, we limit ourselves to settle for what that object represents. But when we look beyond the object and see it within the context of our desires to create something beautiful, then something beautiful happens.
Thursday, March 21, 2019
The Simple Landscape
Simplicity in photography creates images that flow like a soft melody and sometimes simplicity itself becomes the defining elements within a landscape. Landscapes by their very nature can be as complex or simple as nature itself. There are times the scene is filled with an abundance of details all working together to create an amazing view. Yet, there are times when simplicity becomes the defining purpose of the image. Of the two, the simple landscape can often be the most difficult to find and capture.
Creating the Simple Landscape requires one important adjustment; Finding a location where all the clutter is naturally removed. This is not always easy to do and often requires that we employ creative compositional discovery techniques. In most cases it is a matter of seeing, looking beyond the ordinary to focus in on form along with the purest of light.
Light of course is always the main element in every great photograph, but without a great subject, light is simply light. Your job as a photographer is to combine the two into a creative form. For me, to create the Simple Landscape requires warm, low angle light. Late afternoon light when the shadows are long and the nature of the light takes on a natural glowing aura is the best time, but any time of day can be used and under certain circumstances even shooting in the middle of the day works well.
Look for those simple striking compositional elements where only a few pieces are present. Avoid overly complex situations with a lot of competing components. As in all landscapes, all of the components are elements that need to be there and anything that interferes with the story must be removed either by changing the angle, or changing your lens. In other words, focus in what is truly important.
Sunsets tend to be rather complex and just about every kind of sunset that has ever occurred has already been photographed millions of times. However, they are compelling and draw us to them by the nature of their beauty and no two of them are ever the same. One thing I like to do is when facing a sunset regardless of how powerful it might be, I always turn around and look the other direction because sometimes the most compelling images can be discovered that way.
The light from a sunset will often cast a soft warm glow across a landscape, and sometimes you discover a simple composition that diverts your attention away from the main source of the light and onto an element that becomes the photograph of the day. Add a little creative post processing magic and a simple scene becomes an amazing image.
Looking for the Simple Landscape is a challenging opportunity, but one that offers the potential for a striking and unique photograph. Give it a try and retrain your eye to look for the simple elements found in nature.
Creating the Simple Landscape requires one important adjustment; Finding a location where all the clutter is naturally removed. This is not always easy to do and often requires that we employ creative compositional discovery techniques. In most cases it is a matter of seeing, looking beyond the ordinary to focus in on form along with the purest of light.
Look for those simple striking compositional elements where only a few pieces are present. Avoid overly complex situations with a lot of competing components. As in all landscapes, all of the components are elements that need to be there and anything that interferes with the story must be removed either by changing the angle, or changing your lens. In other words, focus in what is truly important.
Sunsets tend to be rather complex and just about every kind of sunset that has ever occurred has already been photographed millions of times. However, they are compelling and draw us to them by the nature of their beauty and no two of them are ever the same. One thing I like to do is when facing a sunset regardless of how powerful it might be, I always turn around and look the other direction because sometimes the most compelling images can be discovered that way.
Looking for the Simple Landscape is a challenging opportunity, but one that offers the potential for a striking and unique photograph. Give it a try and retrain your eye to look for the simple elements found in nature.
Thursday, March 14, 2019
When Nature Wins
The past winter season has rekindled memories from seasons past. Many of my photography friends have ventured out to explore and capture amazing images and memories of various kinds of waterfowl found by the thousands harboring inside nearby wildlife refuges. Seeing their work along with their accounts of what they experienced brought back a memory from long ago...a memory with a profound impact. I have no photographs from that day, but have substituted a single photo that closely resembles what I saw. Hopefully, the written words alone will stir fabulous images within your mind as you read them. Please enjoy this look back on an amazing day..."When Nature Wins"
Never again would a sunrise simply be a sunrise. It would be a unique moment of time and place forever bound and tested against that morning...forever etched as a defining principle of what an outdoor experience should be.
Reposted from December 2010 ********************************************************************************
When I stepped out of the warm cab of my truck and into the chill of that pre-dawn morning air, little did I suspect how this day would be unique. The air was light and crisp and well beyond the point of being cold and I shivered as I looked toward the still dark sky across which spread the silvery haze of the Milky Way. I was to meet an old friend here on the northwest side of Canton Lake, in Northwestern Oklahoma, for some late season goose hunting.
Forewarned of his late arrival, I set about performing the well rehearsed motions of suiting up getting ready for the day's hunt. During previous outings we noticed a few hundred Canada Geese followed a predictable pattern each morning and afternoon. If they continued using that same pattern we hoped to ambush one or two as they flew low over a spit of land that extended a couple hundred yards into the lake. The cover was good there with a cluster of knurled willow trees on the point and copious amounts of tall grass around the perimeter. The lake was low that season so the walk in was easy.
A thin layer of ice along the shallows crunched under foot as I trudged along the edge of the peninsula. I carried no decoys, for we planned on remaining mobile and adapting to the movements of the geese when the opportunity presented itself. I settled between the willow trees and leaned back into a comfortable position long before the first vestiges of daylight became apparent. There was an uncommon calming silence that pervaded over the lake...no wind...no sound...no movement on the lake...only the soft rush of condensed breath set aglow by the starlit sky.
Time slowed under the canopy of that cold and dark morning. I felt small and insignificant sitting there alone. A slight sense of melancholy drifted over me born from a sleep deprived fatigue that hovered like a fog around my eyes. After several minutes passed, just above the horizon across the far side of the lake a faint glow became evident...a glow so pale as to be almost imperceptible...yet distinct and recognizable as the first sign of the approaching dawn.
Somewhere across the lake a group of mallards stirred and their chatter echoed across the silent waters. Overhead a flight of hard to see ducks, I think Buffleheads, whistled by winging from my left to right and then circled behind me disappearing into the void. More flights followed. A group of Teal then Pintail and more mallards whipped by...their beating wings whistling as they ripped through the crisp morning air. Unseen high overhead the haunting chattel of sandhill cranes added to the symphony that was now being orchestrated across the lake.
With each passing moment a new sound and activity of waterfowl was brought into the realm of that once still morning. Slowly...as in unison with the stirrings of the wildlife on and around the lake, the glow over the horizon changed texture and intensity.
A layer of thin clouds drifted low on the horizon and began to glow with a deliberate shimmer celebrated with layers of pastel blues and pinks intermixed with streaks of orange and red. The sunrise scene that was unfolding was perfectly imprinted on the mirrored surface of the lake.
A flight of hooded mergansers swooped in and sat down less than twenty yards in front of me. Their distinctive profiles a silhouette against the ever growing intensity of the breaking dawn. I was spell bound. I leaned my shotgun against the willow tree...and simply watched.
The once star-studded sky began to lighten and one by one each of those bright points of light began to dim...blink one final time...and disappear. By this time multitudes of waterfowl were stirring...darting in front of, behind, and all around me. I couldn't believe what was unfolding. It was like an image taken from an artists canvas...yet no words...no photograph...no imagination could capture the majesty of this morning.
The combined effects of the sunrise...its reflection on the calm waters of the lake...the chaotic movements of countless waterfowl could not have been choreographed more splendidly than the spontaneous explosion of time and place presenting themselves across this...the best of nature's theaters.
Across the lake on the horizon, what began as a faint whimper of light had now progressed to a bold, new amber glow. Jets of red and orange ripped through and danced across the low clouds. The lake and sky were ablaze. Thousands of ducks and geese flew here and there in a confused contrast against the unfolding serenity of that magnificent morning.
Unexpectedly...like when a conductor raises his baton...a momentary hush fell over the morning and all was very still. No ducks flying, no sounds, just a calm. A moment later the sky filled with brilliant light as the sun thrust its burning globe above the horizon...the silence was instantly ripped apart when thousands of waterfowl exploded into flight...their squawks and chattering filled the silence...their motion across the blazing sky, their reflections moving across the lake added a staggering depth and perspective to the morning. It was the single most amazing sight I have ever witnessed.
At that moment I realized something unique was unfolding not only around me...but within me as well. Never before had it become so evident. From all the years of hunting and fishing...from all the priceless moments spent outdoors...a moment like this was the moment I was seeking. To witness that incomprehensible complexity of nature played out within the indescribable simplicity of a magnificent sunrise...to truly understand for the first time how I was a part of God's creation given the privilege to witness and enjoy the splendid array of what life in him has to offer. This was what it was all about. Far too many times the most important things in life had been lost in the vacuum of time and place. Never again would that happen. Never again would a sunrise simply be a sunrise. It would be a unique moment of time and place forever bound and tested against that morning...forever etched as a defining principle of what a relationship with God is all about. Few images can stir the soul like witnessing God's creative hand as it unfolds across his natural palette. Every morning...every new dawn...is a unique creation there for the taking...there for all to share. It is just a matter of being still long enough to experience it.
My partner eventually arrived. We stood together near those willow trees watching the last spectacular moments of what I had been privileged to observe from its beginning. I can still see him silhouetted against that blazing sunrise on that cold morning with smoke from his pipe hovering in the air around him. He looked over toward me and smiled with his characteristic grin exposing his smoke stained teeth, "Boy, Boy", is all he said. That is all he needed to say.
By that time the sun had fully risen the explosion of activity slowly subsided. In spite of observing so many waterfowl, and maybe because of all the activity, and not without trying...we failed to bring home any game on that day...even so, it was a fitting end to a perfect, unforgettable day afield. Somehow it seemed appropriate that nature...so elegantly endowed...so perfectly displayed as was the intent of its creator...would win on this day.
Keith
*********************************************************************
Epilogue: This story brings back many wonderful memories from times past. My friend Ralph who met me up there that day passed away many years ago. A World War II veteran, husband and father, he became a mentor to me in many ways. He never lectured, he simply showed by example what it meant to be an outdoorsman. His memory as well as countless memories spent afield with him and others have not been forgotten, just lain dormant thru time. This one single morning may indeed have been the most spectacular single day afield we ever experienced. That is why I chose to write it down because of the special nature of the event. Even though I miss those days and my friend, the memories we created by exploring nature at its best and the influence he contributed will always be with me.
Never again would a sunrise simply be a sunrise. It would be a unique moment of time and place forever bound and tested against that morning...forever etched as a defining principle of what an outdoor experience should be.
Reposted from December 2010 ********************************************************************************
When I stepped out of the warm cab of my truck and into the chill of that pre-dawn morning air, little did I suspect how this day would be unique. The air was light and crisp and well beyond the point of being cold and I shivered as I looked toward the still dark sky across which spread the silvery haze of the Milky Way. I was to meet an old friend here on the northwest side of Canton Lake, in Northwestern Oklahoma, for some late season goose hunting.
Forewarned of his late arrival, I set about performing the well rehearsed motions of suiting up getting ready for the day's hunt. During previous outings we noticed a few hundred Canada Geese followed a predictable pattern each morning and afternoon. If they continued using that same pattern we hoped to ambush one or two as they flew low over a spit of land that extended a couple hundred yards into the lake. The cover was good there with a cluster of knurled willow trees on the point and copious amounts of tall grass around the perimeter. The lake was low that season so the walk in was easy.
A thin layer of ice along the shallows crunched under foot as I trudged along the edge of the peninsula. I carried no decoys, for we planned on remaining mobile and adapting to the movements of the geese when the opportunity presented itself. I settled between the willow trees and leaned back into a comfortable position long before the first vestiges of daylight became apparent. There was an uncommon calming silence that pervaded over the lake...no wind...no sound...no movement on the lake...only the soft rush of condensed breath set aglow by the starlit sky.
Time slowed under the canopy of that cold and dark morning. I felt small and insignificant sitting there alone. A slight sense of melancholy drifted over me born from a sleep deprived fatigue that hovered like a fog around my eyes. After several minutes passed, just above the horizon across the far side of the lake a faint glow became evident...a glow so pale as to be almost imperceptible...yet distinct and recognizable as the first sign of the approaching dawn.
Somewhere across the lake a group of mallards stirred and their chatter echoed across the silent waters. Overhead a flight of hard to see ducks, I think Buffleheads, whistled by winging from my left to right and then circled behind me disappearing into the void. More flights followed. A group of Teal then Pintail and more mallards whipped by...their beating wings whistling as they ripped through the crisp morning air. Unseen high overhead the haunting chattel of sandhill cranes added to the symphony that was now being orchestrated across the lake.
With each passing moment a new sound and activity of waterfowl was brought into the realm of that once still morning. Slowly...as in unison with the stirrings of the wildlife on and around the lake, the glow over the horizon changed texture and intensity.
A layer of thin clouds drifted low on the horizon and began to glow with a deliberate shimmer celebrated with layers of pastel blues and pinks intermixed with streaks of orange and red. The sunrise scene that was unfolding was perfectly imprinted on the mirrored surface of the lake.
A flight of hooded mergansers swooped in and sat down less than twenty yards in front of me. Their distinctive profiles a silhouette against the ever growing intensity of the breaking dawn. I was spell bound. I leaned my shotgun against the willow tree...and simply watched.
The once star-studded sky began to lighten and one by one each of those bright points of light began to dim...blink one final time...and disappear. By this time multitudes of waterfowl were stirring...darting in front of, behind, and all around me. I couldn't believe what was unfolding. It was like an image taken from an artists canvas...yet no words...no photograph...no imagination could capture the majesty of this morning.
The combined effects of the sunrise...its reflection on the calm waters of the lake...the chaotic movements of countless waterfowl could not have been choreographed more splendidly than the spontaneous explosion of time and place presenting themselves across this...the best of nature's theaters.
Across the lake on the horizon, what began as a faint whimper of light had now progressed to a bold, new amber glow. Jets of red and orange ripped through and danced across the low clouds. The lake and sky were ablaze. Thousands of ducks and geese flew here and there in a confused contrast against the unfolding serenity of that magnificent morning.
Unexpectedly...like when a conductor raises his baton...a momentary hush fell over the morning and all was very still. No ducks flying, no sounds, just a calm. A moment later the sky filled with brilliant light as the sun thrust its burning globe above the horizon...the silence was instantly ripped apart when thousands of waterfowl exploded into flight...their squawks and chattering filled the silence...their motion across the blazing sky, their reflections moving across the lake added a staggering depth and perspective to the morning. It was the single most amazing sight I have ever witnessed.
At that moment I realized something unique was unfolding not only around me...but within me as well. Never before had it become so evident. From all the years of hunting and fishing...from all the priceless moments spent outdoors...a moment like this was the moment I was seeking. To witness that incomprehensible complexity of nature played out within the indescribable simplicity of a magnificent sunrise...to truly understand for the first time how I was a part of God's creation given the privilege to witness and enjoy the splendid array of what life in him has to offer. This was what it was all about. Far too many times the most important things in life had been lost in the vacuum of time and place. Never again would that happen. Never again would a sunrise simply be a sunrise. It would be a unique moment of time and place forever bound and tested against that morning...forever etched as a defining principle of what a relationship with God is all about. Few images can stir the soul like witnessing God's creative hand as it unfolds across his natural palette. Every morning...every new dawn...is a unique creation there for the taking...there for all to share. It is just a matter of being still long enough to experience it.
My partner eventually arrived. We stood together near those willow trees watching the last spectacular moments of what I had been privileged to observe from its beginning. I can still see him silhouetted against that blazing sunrise on that cold morning with smoke from his pipe hovering in the air around him. He looked over toward me and smiled with his characteristic grin exposing his smoke stained teeth, "Boy, Boy", is all he said. That is all he needed to say.
By that time the sun had fully risen the explosion of activity slowly subsided. In spite of observing so many waterfowl, and maybe because of all the activity, and not without trying...we failed to bring home any game on that day...even so, it was a fitting end to a perfect, unforgettable day afield. Somehow it seemed appropriate that nature...so elegantly endowed...so perfectly displayed as was the intent of its creator...would win on this day.
Keith
*********************************************************************
Epilogue: This story brings back many wonderful memories from times past. My friend Ralph who met me up there that day passed away many years ago. A World War II veteran, husband and father, he became a mentor to me in many ways. He never lectured, he simply showed by example what it meant to be an outdoorsman. His memory as well as countless memories spent afield with him and others have not been forgotten, just lain dormant thru time. This one single morning may indeed have been the most spectacular single day afield we ever experienced. That is why I chose to write it down because of the special nature of the event. Even though I miss those days and my friend, the memories we created by exploring nature at its best and the influence he contributed will always be with me.
Friday, March 8, 2019
A Quiet Place: Finding Time to Truly Rest
As I have grown older I've slowed down a great deal. I am not as inclined to get out as much as I did even just a few years ago. Even so, I still enjoy moments of solitude. I suppose one of the best attributes of reaching retirement age is learning to appreciate how to slow down and absorb the benefits of just simply being quiet.
Oh, I still manage to get out and I still long for those times afield whether it be drifting in a canoe on still waters during a Kentucky summer morning, or maybe standing alone on the edge of a trout stream to cast a line in anticipation of a sudden strike. I especially enjoy the anticipation of waiting for that photographic moment as nature presents itself in all of her glory. It is important to make time for such moments to prevent growing too stale or complacent in your life.
I have succumb to the temptation of just staying in far too many times, but somewhere down deep inside of me that young boy who romped and stomped, hiked and fished, camped and floated, still lingers. Eventually, like the morning mist, he rises from his doldrums and steps out to rediscover the pleasures of such things...certainly at a slower pace now...but he does manage to rekindle that adventurous spirit back to life from time to time.
Sometimes I simply make the short hike out to the pond located on the east end of one of the many cornfields that surrounds us. Been there dozens of times, but I always enjoy the sights, sounds, and aroma that hovers around that place. A good quiet location is not devoid of noise, it's just filled with high quality natural sound. Birds certainly add their song to the symphony orchestrated across the landscape, as does the wind as it searches for the tops of trees. There is probably no finer melody than a breeze stroking the leaves and branches like natural musical chimes. On a summer day, to lie down under a shade and simply listen to the song of a breeze chases away a good many distractions, at least for the moment.
One of my favorite places to visit is the Tallgrass Prairie Preserve in Northern Oklahoma. It's far enough away from where I now live I am only rarely able to make the trip over there. When I do, I seek out a few of the special places I have grown to love for the natural quiet they possess. I will hike across the prairie to rediscover those locations, then wait for a photograph to develop, but sometimes I just sit. These are special moments reserved for those who take the time and make the effort to discover them.
Morning just before a summer sunrise is my favorite time on the prairie. It is when this sea of grass awakens from its slumber and the air is still cool. The morning sounds of the prairie are filled with the best quality of gentle quiet you can discover. The birds are the first to awaken and they quickly fill the air with their songs. Sometimes a Bobwhite Quail will hop onto a rocky outcropping backlit by the rising sun, then shout out his famous baawb-white greeting. There is almost always some kind of morning dew clinging the tall grasses and wildflowers. As the morning sun elevates above the horizon, the low angle of light will reflect off of and through the dew drops turning them into a million sparkling diamonds. Then the wind rises, slowly at first as a gentle breeze but enough to synchronize the tall grass movement with its pulse of the morning. The moisture laden dew drops fall like a mini rain dance when the grasses dance in the wind. As the grasses move, they generate a hushed whisper, like a subtle message...you can hear its words as it calls the morning to order.
As the early hours progress, a hawk might arch overhead and add his defiant screech to the morning. In the distance a herd of bison begins to stir and regroup for their migration across the prairie to another feeding ground. Their low guttural mumble blends with the morning quiet and the new seasons calves prance in playful joy to the awakening morning.
By mid-morning the sun is full up filling the sky with a brilliant blue and bathing the prairie in a summer warmth. Sometimes a thin mist will linger across a distant ravine adding another layer of intrigue to the scene. I will often take this time to just sit under the shade of an isolated eastern cedar tree that somehow clings to life anchored to the edge of a rocky arroyo. With some luck a family of coyotes might climb out of their den and bring their pups into the day.
A real treat is to see the beautiful Sissortail-Flycatcher...Oklahoma's state bird. They are colored with a delicate gray underneath and darker across the back, then accented with a pale splash of orange on their sides. They flitter here and there resting on a tall stem or perching on a remnant piece of fence. They are rare east of the Mississippi, but common across the heartland of the country.
Time finds a way to drift quickly across the prairie, and far too soon your day afield comes to an end, but not before you witness one of the legendary prairie sunsets where the sky turns golden and the summer breeze begins to calm down. I have often sat breathless atop a shallow rocky knoll to watch the day roll toward another slumber. Often I will simply allow the time to drift away like the sun as it settles behind a distant hill...and just watch. The prairie offers the finest of quiet.
To find a quiet place is a gift we owe ourselves. To enjoy a quiet place is a special gift from God. I'm sure he meant for us to experience moments such as these in such places. I'll be heading back that way soon to not only rediscover some quiet time, but to capture the essence of what it means in a video. The prairie possesses a song, a Prairie Song...one composed to offer and then provide a quiet place to rest.
Oh, I still manage to get out and I still long for those times afield whether it be drifting in a canoe on still waters during a Kentucky summer morning, or maybe standing alone on the edge of a trout stream to cast a line in anticipation of a sudden strike. I especially enjoy the anticipation of waiting for that photographic moment as nature presents itself in all of her glory. It is important to make time for such moments to prevent growing too stale or complacent in your life.
I have succumb to the temptation of just staying in far too many times, but somewhere down deep inside of me that young boy who romped and stomped, hiked and fished, camped and floated, still lingers. Eventually, like the morning mist, he rises from his doldrums and steps out to rediscover the pleasures of such things...certainly at a slower pace now...but he does manage to rekindle that adventurous spirit back to life from time to time.
Sometimes I simply make the short hike out to the pond located on the east end of one of the many cornfields that surrounds us. Been there dozens of times, but I always enjoy the sights, sounds, and aroma that hovers around that place. A good quiet location is not devoid of noise, it's just filled with high quality natural sound. Birds certainly add their song to the symphony orchestrated across the landscape, as does the wind as it searches for the tops of trees. There is probably no finer melody than a breeze stroking the leaves and branches like natural musical chimes. On a summer day, to lie down under a shade and simply listen to the song of a breeze chases away a good many distractions, at least for the moment.
One of my favorite places to visit is the Tallgrass Prairie Preserve in Northern Oklahoma. It's far enough away from where I now live I am only rarely able to make the trip over there. When I do, I seek out a few of the special places I have grown to love for the natural quiet they possess. I will hike across the prairie to rediscover those locations, then wait for a photograph to develop, but sometimes I just sit. These are special moments reserved for those who take the time and make the effort to discover them.
Morning just before a summer sunrise is my favorite time on the prairie. It is when this sea of grass awakens from its slumber and the air is still cool. The morning sounds of the prairie are filled with the best quality of gentle quiet you can discover. The birds are the first to awaken and they quickly fill the air with their songs. Sometimes a Bobwhite Quail will hop onto a rocky outcropping backlit by the rising sun, then shout out his famous baawb-white greeting. There is almost always some kind of morning dew clinging the tall grasses and wildflowers. As the morning sun elevates above the horizon, the low angle of light will reflect off of and through the dew drops turning them into a million sparkling diamonds. Then the wind rises, slowly at first as a gentle breeze but enough to synchronize the tall grass movement with its pulse of the morning. The moisture laden dew drops fall like a mini rain dance when the grasses dance in the wind. As the grasses move, they generate a hushed whisper, like a subtle message...you can hear its words as it calls the morning to order.As the early hours progress, a hawk might arch overhead and add his defiant screech to the morning. In the distance a herd of bison begins to stir and regroup for their migration across the prairie to another feeding ground. Their low guttural mumble blends with the morning quiet and the new seasons calves prance in playful joy to the awakening morning.
By mid-morning the sun is full up filling the sky with a brilliant blue and bathing the prairie in a summer warmth. Sometimes a thin mist will linger across a distant ravine adding another layer of intrigue to the scene. I will often take this time to just sit under the shade of an isolated eastern cedar tree that somehow clings to life anchored to the edge of a rocky arroyo. With some luck a family of coyotes might climb out of their den and bring their pups into the day.
A real treat is to see the beautiful Sissortail-Flycatcher...Oklahoma's state bird. They are colored with a delicate gray underneath and darker across the back, then accented with a pale splash of orange on their sides. They flitter here and there resting on a tall stem or perching on a remnant piece of fence. They are rare east of the Mississippi, but common across the heartland of the country.Time finds a way to drift quickly across the prairie, and far too soon your day afield comes to an end, but not before you witness one of the legendary prairie sunsets where the sky turns golden and the summer breeze begins to calm down. I have often sat breathless atop a shallow rocky knoll to watch the day roll toward another slumber. Often I will simply allow the time to drift away like the sun as it settles behind a distant hill...and just watch. The prairie offers the finest of quiet.
To find a quiet place is a gift we owe ourselves. To enjoy a quiet place is a special gift from God. I'm sure he meant for us to experience moments such as these in such places. I'll be heading back that way soon to not only rediscover some quiet time, but to capture the essence of what it means in a video. The prairie possesses a song, a Prairie Song...one composed to offer and then provide a quiet place to rest.
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