Nature photography in its purest form offers a pause from the noise of my daily routine and allows me to explore and create without an agenda.
This isn’t about politics, it’s about humanity. Helping those in need as they navigate through the rubble and emotional battlegrounds that is collapsing around them in their homeland of Ukraine. As an individual, I cannot do much but as a united group, we just might make a difference. I’ve been invited to join a group of of Canadian photographers to raise funds to support Ukrainians impacted by war in a collaborative effort called “Prints for Peace” — these other talented artists and photographers have contributed their work and can be viewed and purchased here. Please help if you can.
Texas is the largest state in the continental USA and Texans have a lot to brag about and rising mercury doesn’t stop us…it’s probably because we know where all the good swimming holes are and how to keep an ice chest from tipping over as we tube the Guadalupe River.
I grabbed my camera and slowly pushed open my door. With my camera wedged between a partly opened door and the car I took two shots of him. With his head turned away I knew they would be terrible shots but a bad owl shot is still an owl shot.
As I navigated the two-lane road I was careful to go slow ...“Driving Miss Daisy” slow. The first car that I passed in a ditch appeared to have been there for awhile because at least an inch of snow had started to pile on it. The second car I passed had spun out leaving visible tire marks across the road and embankment as it slid and landed backside into a utility pole. With help on the scene, I said a quick prayer for the driver and moved on.
As I gingerly sidestepped my way into the field I was careful to not crush any blooms as I looked for the perfect composition. The white skies that had stuck around all day hinted at a possible chance that the sun might break through. At one point, I looked over at my friend, and told her that we just might luck out and get a pop of sunshine.
My father took his hat off when a funeral procession passed us on the road; he held the door for a lady and the next dozen people that trailed behind her; he taught this daughter to change a tire and check the oil in her car; and told me that I could drink all that I wanted, as long as I did it in front of him.
It was wet and slippery but he wanted me to see the top of the waterfall. It still makes me smile because he started telling me a story using his hands and what I could gather is that the water came off the mountain 600 meters above us, and it runs down the falls, into his gardens and then feeds into a river somewhere “over there” --- the lesson for me on this day is that a dead end road should be explored every once in a while
In the middle of a dirt road, I watched tree branches sway in the wind and listened to the chorus of birds sing to each other. Other times in the very same spot, the air is hot and there is not a hint of a breeze. But on every visit, different birds sit atop the same old dead tree that has become my favorite spot for bird watching.
Loud honking and endless squawking…distinctive voices and for the seasoned bird watcher easily recognizable. Standing nearly five-feet tall, Sandhill cranes are light-colored grey but the deep red feathers on their head make them stand out in a crowd. The Sandhill cranes are seasonal visitors to Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge.
Photographers by nature don’t mind waiting for something interesting to happen whether it is to see if the sunset will produce amazing colors or to study the patterns in rushing water to create interesting abstracts. Slowing down and observing the details most people walk past allow them to create and freeze a scene that changes from one second to the next.
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