The Sites: Washington & New Bern

Eastern North Carolina has become a favorite destination of mine.  Here, the forests of the Piedmont give way to the coastal plain, while the rivers finally spread and flow lazily into the sounds.  Tobacco and cotton fields roll across the landscape.  The towns here are small, the opportunities somewhat limited - the shift away from an agricultural and industrial society has meant the closing of mills and the loss of jobs for many - but the history is long and varied, with people who are proud of their heritage and of their home.

Riverfront; Washington

Travel east of Raleigh for about two and a half hours and you'll find North Carolina's oldest city and the first city in the US to bear the name: Washington.  Situated where the Tar River becomes the Pamlico River, its waterfront is home to a small marina and park where locals stroll in the evening with their pets and their families. 

Riverfront; New Bern

Turning south on US 17, you'll drive along the coastal highway towards New Bern.  North Carolina's second oldest city, it is strategically placed at the confluence of the Trent and Neuse Rivers.  The riverfront has been preserved to provide access to the water, with parks, marinas, and a downtown that embraces its history and character through preservation and local businesses.  The natural beauty of its location merges seamlessly with the society that has sprung up along its banks.

Both of these cities remind me of Davenport in the way that their rivers are embedded into the landscape of the town, simply part of the daily rhythm of life.  Their waters are not a destination that requires planning to go to; they are not something walled off or kept separate from the civilization that exists because of the natural gifts afforded by their banks and eddies.  Instead, these places embrace and celebrate their locations through milestones such as New Bern's tricentennial this year, as well as through the accumulation of smaller moments in time.

Fisherman; Washington

The Shot: Morning Fog One and Two

Like many things, a crucial element to photography is sheer luck.


For all the studios and editing software, some of your best shots will be those you weren't even looking for, but rather just present themselves for you to take.  


Several years ago, I was visiting my brother in the Atlanta area.  It was that transitional time of year where the humidity of summer was still clinging to the air, but the chill of fall (as chilly as it gets in Atlanta, anyway) was just starting to creep in.  I was up early, sitting out on the patio.  The neighborhood was all but completely cloaked in fog.


At the time, I was still using film, so I framed, snapped, and hoped for the best:

Dallas, GA (film)

A year later, I was in Orlando, visiting the same brother, once again in the fall.  It was a particularly soupy morning.  The window looked out over a golf course, but that morning, it might as well have looked out over an empty field, as it was impossible to see anything beyond the shadowy outlines of the trees nearby:

Orlando, FL (digital)

 In both cases, the fog burned off rather quickly.  It's one of those natural forces that casts a new glow over familiar things, but requires that element of luck to catch just the right day when you happen to have not only your camera, but also the time to wander about to catch a few shots (for example, I've always wanted to capture the UNC campus in the fog, but the timing just hasn't worked out quite yet).  

These two shots also recall the digital vs. film discussion - but as I've said earlier, I think there's room for both.  

The Sites: Raleigh, Durham, and Chapel Hill

While much of the collections come from far-flung places, some more exotic than others, a good portion comes from close to home, some even from home itself.


Forming the Research Triangle, the landscapes of Raleigh, Durham, and Chapel Hill are dotted with a total of 16 colleges and universities - large and small, public and private, well-known and hidden gems.  The people that live here are a mix of native North Carolinians and transplants from elsewhere who came for work, for school, for other opportunities.  It is easy to see why we stay: the blend of cultures, the pace that is at times both fast and leisurely, the wealth of ways to spend your time indoors and out.

NC State Fair; Raleigh

Each fall, the North Carolina State Fair brings everyone together for everything there is to love (or not) about a fair: livestock, rides, and food concoctions that sound both wrong and irresistible.  It is people-watching in the purest form combined with a showcase of all things North Carolina, from garden shows to crafts to agriculture.

NC Botanical Garden; Chapel Hill

Tucked away off a busy highway in Chapel Hill is the North Carolina Botanical Garden.  Its paths are lined with the flora of the state, from the mountains to the coastal plain, gathered together in one place to bloom in a veritable symphony of greenery and color.  True to nature, the blooms change with the seasons, making this a natural place to return throughout the year.

Double rainbow; Durham

I spent several years living in what was once described as a "treehouse" - my building nestled up against a grove of pole pines and seemingly anemic oaks that were nothing like the majestic, sprawling trees I'd previously known.  The songbirds adopted my feeder as their local nursery and cafeteria, granting me the privilege of watching their chicks learn to fly and forage.  As wonderful as this was, the proximity of the trunks left me with only a small pocket of sky, compounding the claustrophobia I still feel in the eastern forests after having spent my entire life living in more open spaces.  A recent move freed me from the tyranny of the trees (the grove is a good ten to twenty yards out now) and gave me access to the sky again.  I am able to sit upon the deck, watching the storms roll through, thankful for both the third floor unit and the roof that protects me (and my camera) from most of the elements.  Of course, this also means I have a birds-eye view of the calmer side of nature as well, which never ceases to amaze me.

The Sites: Okefenokee Swamp

When you tell people you grew up in Florida, most people think of the beaches, the sand, and the ocean.  Truth be told, we never spent much time at the beach when I was younger - the Florida of my childhood is better characterized by the swamp.  Gators in the yard, sunning themselves on the banks of the neighborhood canals were commonplace; something about oppressive heat and humidity still feels like home.   I credit my status as a native Floridian for the fact that I am utterly incapable of resisting the lure of a swamp park.

Many of these are nothing more than cheesy tourist traps, where the handlers toss chicken to a bloated bull gator who knows that crowds of people equal food.  The snowbirds and spring-breakers "ooh" and "aah" over the giant reptile, then patter into the makeshift reptile house to look at a few snakes and lizards, one of them inevitably asking where they can find the gecko from the insurance commercials.  There's a time and a place for kitsch, but I'd rather spend time in those parks that work to preserve and conserve natural habitats, focusing the interactions with wildlife on educating the visitors about these creatures, their habits, and what we can do to protect them.

Southern pine forest, 2008; recovering from swamp fires of 2007

Straddling the Georgia-Florida border and covering over 400,000 acres, the Okefenokee Swamp is the largest blackwater swamp in North America; the Okefenokee National Wildlife Refuge protects the habitat from encroaching development while still allowing visitors to explore its waterways.  The swamp of southern Georgia is a bit different from the Everglades: instead of a river of grass, it is shaded and sheltered by the pole pines and towering cypress trees.  

Cypress forest

Along the waterways and in the gator ponds, cypress knees break the surface and the insects flit about amongst the water lilies and ferns.  It is an almost primeval place, forgotten by geology, and frozen in time.  Fires still rage through every few years, especially during severe droughts as in 2007, pushing the forest through its natural cycles of destruction and renewal. 

Park entrance

Located just outside Waycross, Georgia, the Okefenokee Swamp Park provides access to the swamp through tours and educational facilities.  The gators wander and float amongst the canals, mingling with visitors.  
 

Okefenokee Railroad Tour

Like any true swamp park, there is the requisite cheesiness - exhibits on how native tribes and settlers used the resources to live amongst the cypress and the dragonflies, complete with a miniature train that will allow you to tour some of the park grounds in style.  The park almost has a sense of humor about itself; at least, it provides plenty of opportunities to find humor while you're there, as if by acknowledging the kitsch, it allows their message of conservation and cohabitation to reach a wider audience through educative presentations and tours with guides that are incredibly passionate about their work.

Butterfly with azaleas

The animals that inhabit the park are, for the most part, free to wander in and out from the swamp itself.  The butterflies flock to the camellias and azaleas.  The turtles float in the ponds and you do have to keep an eye out for the occasional water moccasin that may be slithering by on the ground or in the canals.

American Alligator

American Alligator

Most of the resident gators can be traced in lineage to one male, Oscar, who passed in 2007.  They laze about the water's edge, merely feet away from passersby, most of whom keep their distance, but some of whom you expect to utter the phrase "Hey, watch this!" at any moment.  Alligators are not particularly active creatures, making them great subjects to experiment with capturing wildlife shots through your zoom lens (always through your zoom lens!).  If they are in the water, the light reflected from the surface plays with the light reflecting off their skin, adding another dimension.

Of course, their presence also provides a chance to capture a little unintentional humor: