Lessons from Nature

In the winter, when all the trees are bare, the weather is gray, and the ground crunches underneath your feet, it's hard to remember what all the fuss was about over those warm - even hot! - days in August when all you wanted was a cool breeze. 

I mean, really, what the hell were we thinking?  It's cold out there & by golly, could we get some sunshine?!

But there's a rhythm to it all.  Nature knows what she's doing.  And sometimes we could learn a thing or two from her ways.

I haven't posted in a few weeks.  There are several reasons for this, but I'm going to take a cue from Nature and simply say:

Sometimes we just need to hibernate.

The Shot: Mississippi River Sunrise

It's not just about sunsets.


Sunrise is actually my favorite time of day.  The promise of a new beginning, the unlimited possibility to start anew, light returning to a dark world -- these are the metaphors of the sunrise that resonate with me.


A recent trip to New Orleans found me meandering along the banks of the Mississippi one morning, just as the city was starting to awaken.  At this point in its path, the river is wide, like it is back in Iowa, but the geography feels off.  Here, the river is to the east, not the south; it flows from right to left, rather than left to right.  It is at once the same and different, just like every other river I've traveled along, but this one is different.


If ever one could possess a river, the Mississippi would be mine.


Standing there on the levee, it is impossible not to think about the destruction that swamped this city barely six years ago.  It is impossible not to appreciate the power of the water as it flows majestically to the Gulf, slowing at this point in its travels as the grade of the land lessens and it prepares to drop its sediments into its ever-shifting delta. 


But standing there at sunrise, watching the light dance across the water, it is impossible not to be in awe:

The Collections: New Additions

New photos have been added to Architecture, Fauna, Nature, People, and Place.  Please use the links to the right to explore at your leisure.

The Collections: New Additions

New shots have been added to Architecture, Flora, Food, Nature, People, and Place.  Please use the links to the right to explore the collections.

The Series: Sunsets

I've always had a thing for sunsets.

It seems strange.  I've usually lived on the east side of things: the eastern coast of Florida, the eastern part of Iowa, the eastern seaboard.  I'm much more a morning lark than night owl; sunrise is my favorite time of day.

But sunsets are an entirely different kind of magic.

Depending on the weather, the air quality, the temperature, or your elevation, sunsets can be anything from mundane to extraordinary. 

Shooting them can be tough, as sometimes they're so fleeting or change so rapidly that you have to work quickly.  But this is a chance to experiment with your ISO settings, filters, and exposure to capture that scene in all its beauty.

Sunset from a plane; over Jacksonville, FL

Sunset over Blue Ridge Mountains; Asheville, NC

Sunset over Iowa City, IA

Sky on Fire; Durham, NC

The Concepts: Reflections

Korean War Memorial, Washington DC

Many of my favorite pieces involve a reflection of some kind: windows, water, even the smooth granite walls of the Korean War and Vietnam Veterans Memorials.  Like a less vain variation on the myth of Narcissus, the reflections seem to force us to stop and take an introspective moment for ourselves. 

On the technical side of things, reflections can be tricky: you have to be careful to catch the light at just the right angle to minimize glare and maximize the impact of your image.  If ever there was a time to turn off your flash, this is it: using a flash will overexpose your subject and add back all that glare you sought to avoid when you positioned yourself for the shot in the first place. 

Edenton Sound, NC

 Moving on to the compositional side of things, you can let your creativity loose with this concept.  A reflection is an inherent dichotomy of what we see versus what we think we see.  On water, the reflected image is often distorted by the waves and currents of the surface, creating tension and movement in your work.  

Facade of Solow Building, NYC

In windows, you have a reversal - usually a mirror image - that puts an unfamiliar twist on something otherwise urbane and pedestrian.   It takes a somewhat interesting building and turns it into a very interesting city scape.  It salvages an otherwise dismally overcast day by concentrating that light into one space, capturing the glints and shadows of the sun and the clouds for you.

It's part of training your eye to find the shot in your surroundings; it's about not just looking at, but looking up and off to the side and maybe even through.  

"Reflections" - atrium of Museo de Reina Sofia, Madrid

The Collections: New Additions

New shots have been added to Architecture, Flora, Nature, People, and Place.  Please use the links to the right to explore the collections.

The Sites: Western North Carolina

Rivers aren't the only thing I've had to redefine in North Carolina.

As you can imagine, the swamps of Florida and the wide flood plains of the Midwest never afforded me much exposure to mountains - anything over 20ft tall qualified in my book.  A few trips to Colorado during college took me from one extreme to the other, with 14,000 foot peaks soaring overhead with the same frequency as creeks flowed through my neighborhood.  

The Rockies are relatively younger mountains; they are still jagged, tall, and only just now beginning to show the wear and tear of erosion.  The Appalachians, on the other hand, are the veterans of geologic time.  Their tops are more rounded, their waterfalls more deeply carved, and their history more steeped in legend. 

Driving west on I-40 through North Carolina, you don't have much sense of your increasing elevation until you reach Burke County.  As you crest over a particular hill just west of Morganton, the Appalachians explode in undulating ridges toward the horizon.  It took my breath away the first time I made the trip; it did the same thing last fall when I returned; it will do it once again when I head back west this weekend.

Bunker Hill Covered Bridge; Hickory, NC

My first trip west was several years after moving here; it was a quick overnight business trip to Asheville - just enough to whet the appetite with a morning hike off the Blue Ridge Parkway.  My second trip started in Mooresville, from which I worked my way west through Hickory and Morganton before reaching Asheville once again. 

This time, I was able to spend more time in Asheville, exploring the downtown and the botanical gardens.  With such a rich culture of art, food, natural wonders, and history, this is a city which warrants an extended stay if you can do so.  

Pack Place; Asheville, NC

Crocus, NC Botanical Garden; Asheville, NC

Sunflower, NC Botanical Garden; Asheville, NC

North of Asheville, the Blue Ridge Parkway parallels I-40 for about 20 miles before turning further north towards Boone at NC-80 near Marion.  As the Parkway winds through the mountains, overlooks offer views of stunning landscapes, while the flora along the roadside offers refuge for comparatively smaller wonders:

Turkey Vultures over Licklog Ridge; Blue Ridge Parkway, NC

Monarch Butterflies; Blue Ridge Parkway, NC

Summit of Mt. Mitchell; Blue Ridge Parkway, NC

 Before reaching the turnoff for Marion, you reach the road to Mount Mitchell, the highest point east of the Mississippi River.  Here, you can look out across the vista, with guides pointing you towards Grandfather Mountain and Boone, visible from the summit.  

 Western North Carolina is vast and varied - I still haven't made it to Boone or to Transylvania County, where waterfalls dance down the from the peaks.  Linville Gorge - often referred to as the Grand Canyon of North Carolina - is one of only two wilderness gorges in the southern US.  The Appalachian Trail winds along the border with Tennessee.  Wildlife large and small make their home here.  Clearly, I have my work cut out for me.

The Sites: Redefining Rivers - From the Mississippi to the Eno

Mississippi River at Leech Park; Bettendorf, Iowa

Between the swamps of south Florida and the rivers of eastern Iowa, I'd always lived with water as an integral part of my landscape.  It was simply there: the canals and the rivers were as common as sidewalks and streets.


Moving to central North Carolina required me to adjust my thinking.  Here, bodies of water are more a destination than part of the scenery - where I used to walk along and across the Iowa River to get to class, now I have to drive a decent distance to specific access points for the local rivers and lakes.
  

Eno River at Cole Mill Road; Durham, NC

I've also had to redefine my ideas about what a river should be.  Where the Mississippi stretches and flows wide and deep, the Eno River meanders more narrowly, shallowly, and slowly, really only raging after a heavy rain.  The scale of the two rivers is vastly different and so is their character.  Where the Mississippi is big and bold, the Eno is quiet and quaint.  

Eno River at Pleasant Green; Orange County, NC

The quiet, removed quality of the Eno combined with the nature preservation efforts  of the North Carolina parks and wildlife agencies has given it an edge over the more developed rivers of my previous homes, however.  The river bluffs here are more often paralleled by hiking trails than thoroughfares, with the shallower depths enabling you to cross the river by fording it rather than relying on a suspension bridge.  It also makes for more opportunities for adventure among its tributary creeks, allowing you to explore off the beaten path to find the hidden gems that aren't often found along the larger waterways.


I've also had to adjust my expectations of wildlife along each river.  The Mississippi is home to nesting bald eagles, with visitors' bureaus and local businesses alike celebrating their annual migration.  The size of the river also enables it to support large flocks of mallards throughout the year.  

Mallard on the Mississippi; Bettendorf, IA

Here in North Carolina, the eagles tend to prefer the area lakes for their roosting while migrating Canadian Geese make themselves at home in neighborhood ponds.  The Eno's paths provide an opportunity to get friendly with more of its ground-dwelling residents, with turtles capitalizing on the lower water levels to climb out on branches and rocks to bask in the sun.

Turtles on the Eno

I admit that I spend a fair amount of time mourning my majestic, mammoth rivers: the Mississippi, the Iowa, the Cedar, and the Wapsipinicon (or the "Wapsi" as we call it) are testaments to the power of water on larger scales - and as the spring flood season approaches, those in their flood plains keep a wary eye on their levels.  Trips to Washington, New Bern and Elizabeth City bring on such nostalgia as I sit along the Pamlico, Neuse, Trent, Chowan, and Pasquotank Rivers, lamenting that there is no such waterfront where I live now.  But the Eno has taught me to appreciate the smaller scale.  In the end, what it boils down to is that a river is a river, no matter how small; the beauty of a river is that it always and yet never the same, which is really what draws me to them in the first place.

The Equipment: Tripods

When thinking about the kind of shots you want to take, there are a lot of options to weigh for your equipment.  Digital versus film.  Point-and-shoot versus SLR.  Tripods.

Tripods - if practical to carry with you - can make the difference between a blurry shot and a great shot, particularly if your hands aren't the steadiest.



Thundercloud & moonlight



I like to use a collapsible tripod that can be extended in height and adjusted as needed. It's certainly a boon for nighttime photography when you're using an extended exposure setting to capture low light conditions.

American Alligator

It's also handy for long-distance nature shots - birds and wildlife fidget enough, so this can go a long way towards making your shots more crisp and clear.  Combine your tripod with a zoom to stay safely out of reach of more cantankerous subjects.



Fireworks over Waycross, GA

4th of July is another favorite occasion for using a tripod: the brightness of the fireworks against the night sky make it difficult to capture clear shots without a bit of assistance. 

Portrait work; Chapel Hill, NC

Portrait work can be one of those areas where you go in either direction; some prefer the freedom to move around their subject, whereas others prefer to use a tripod to ensure clearer, more steady shots.  A tripod can also even the playing field for point-and-shoot cameras, as the speed of SLRs traditionally gives them an edge in this area.  For my initial ventures into portraiture, I'm putting my trust in my tripod while I refine my skills in the genre.

Sometimes you get lucky, though: when a shot presents itself, you take a chance to capture when you can.  Sometimes it pays off:

Moonrise over Iowa City

The Shot: Sky on Fire

A couple of weeks ago, a cold front moved through, bringing with it much needed rain.  My commute home coincided with the final leading edge of cloud bands marching overhead.  As I sat at the top of the exit ramp, waiting for the light to turn, I looked west.

Years of living in the Midwest still make me wary when I see such a stark line of such dark clouds topped with such a contrasting white pile of cumulus.  I searched for curtains of rain underneath; not seeing any, I continued home.

Frontal boundary marching east

I grabbed my camera to snap the front moving through.  So often, these things are simply those blue triangles and red half-circles on the television screen, but here one was, marching directly over my neighborhood.

I came for the frontal boundary.  I stayed for the sunset.

As the sun started to peek out from behind the veil of clouds that had encased it for the past three days, it reasserted its position of dominance in the sky with gusto.  Over the next hour, the sky progressed from flashes of orange to a sky on fire:

The Collections: New Additions

New pieces have been added to Nature, Flora, Fauna, and People.  Please use the links to the right to explore the collections.

The Tips: Be Adventurous

More often than not, a great shot can be right in front of you: the flowers in your garden,  the cardinal at your feeder, the sun setting over your backyard.  There's something to be said for taking the time to see the simplicity of the every day through the lens of your camera - take a moment to step back and look at things with a fresh set of eyes.

Sometimes, though, letting your curiosity guide you pays off even more.

The Eno River flows north of the Raleigh-Durham-Chapel Hill metro area, eventually feeding into Falls Lake.  It is completely different in character from the Mississippi: its channel is smaller making its depth much more variable with the rain, while its banks are mostly preserved as part of a state park filled with trails, picnic areas, and the occasional campground.  

Several years ago, North Carolina was one of many southern states caught in the grip of a severe drought.  Local lakes were well below normal levels and area municipalities were implementing various restrictions and regulations to conserve what water was left.  I spent an afternoon exploring the Pleasant Green section of the Eno River State Park, where the river was really more of a creek due to the lack of volume in its flow.  Susceptible to flash flooding, the banks were carved by erosion, leaving tree roots perched precariously in midair.  I scurried my way upstream, following the water's edge, pausing to capture the miniature rapids that formed over the branches and rocks that littered the bottom of the now exposed channel.


Some way up the channel, I came across the outflow from a tributary creek.  I pondered whether to continue up the main path or to veer off towards this new discovery.  With apologies to Robert Frost, I took the path less traveled.  I scrambled over the rocks and picked my way around the tree branches, determined to see how far the stream receding into the woods.  My curiosity was soon rewarded:

Waterfall, Eno River at Pleasant Green

My last trip out to Kitty Hawk coincided with an October coastal storm.  The weather was far from ideal for swimming and sunbathing, with waves crashing upon the storm and a 40mph gale making the 55 degree weather feel even colder.  Even in these conditions, I was still more inclined to be outside than in my hotel room.  Since the pier in Kitty Hawk was reserved for a private party, I headed down NC12 towards Avalon Pier.  It was all but deserted, save for the woman minding the pier shop and her daughter's family that had come to visit before her shift was over.  I paid my $1 for access to the pier and walked out into the weather.

Kitty Hawk from Avalon Pier

Normally elbow-to-elbow with fishermen and pelicans, the eerily empty pier stretched out into the ocean, at the same time both beckoning me to go further out and warning me to stay closer to shore. I ventured out to the end of the pier, exposed to the wind, putting my faith in the fact that these piers are built to withstand most of what Mother Nature can throw at them.  


It's an eerie thing, being alone on a pier, over a hundred yards out over a churning ocean.  The sky hung heavy, like gray velvet, draping itself over the coastline with a damp chill.  


Whether it's clamoring up a river tributary or hanging onto the railing of a pier swaying in the wind, allow yourself to follow your curiosity.  More often than not, you'll be surprised by what you find.

[Disclaimer: Always be aware of your own safety when shooting, particularly in potentially severe weather.  No shot is worth life and/or limb.]

The Shot: Spiderweb

As previous posts have hinted, I've always been a water girl - rivers & oceans have always had a pull over me.  My first trip to Colorado was mind-blowing, as just about anything over 20' tall was (and to a degree, still is) a mountain to me.  


Six years after moving to North Carolina, I had the opportunity to go to Asheville for my day job.  Driving west along I-40, the undulating hills of the Piedmont eventually lead into the Appalachians; when you hit exit 94, the ridges spill out endlessly towards the horizon and it still takes my breath away every time.


The day of my return to the Triangle, I had a few hours to spare in the morning.  The Blue Ridge Parkway was but a handful of blocks from my hotel, so I stopped by the Visitor's Center and took a run through the trail loop.  The views from here were nowhere near as spectacular as I would later discover elsewhere along the Parkway, but I found myself more captivated by the flora rather than the surrounding landscapes.



It was early fall and the air was beginning to become more crisp.  The broadleaf plants of the lower elevations were fewer in population, giving way to smaller flowers and evergreens.


I walked along the path, stumbling upon patches of mountain daisies, oak vines winding their way along the edge of the trail, and a squirrel that startled me just as much as I startled him.

About two-thirds of the way down the trail, I by chance looked to my left to find a large, yet delicate spiderweb glistening in the light filtering through the trees.  Its architect had wandered elsewhere, leaving behind her handiwork.  

Despite the surrounding peaks and valleys, on that morning, it was this that held my attention:

The Sites: North Carolina Coast

Until I moved to North Carolina, I'd always lived on or near water - it was part of the landscape.  While my proximity to water has disappeared in my daily life, I've had the opportunity to spend time along the North Carolina coast and explore some of the towns along the Outer and Inner Banks.

Jutting out into the Atlantic, the Outer Banks form the first line of defense for the various Sounds that accept the waters of North Carolina's rivers and estuaries.  Along the Inner Banks, some of the first settlements in the nation dot the Albemarle Highway and Civil War Trails.

Topsail Island

Topsail Island is one of many seasonal getaways, with its beach houses for rent along the shoreline.  Situated northeast of Wilmington, its northern end nestles against Camp LeJeune.  Beach erosion - like in so many places along the barrier islands of the state - threatens to reclaim the houses with every wave.

Chowan River & Roanoke Sound, Edenton

Edenton and Elizabeth City sit along the Chowan and Pasquotank Rivers, which open out into the Roanoke and Albermarle Sounds.  The rivers here have the bluest water I have ever seen and their sleepy waterfronts attract historical tourists and locals alike.

Wright Brothers Memorial, Kitty Hawk

Kitty Hawk is home to the Wright Brothers Memorial, the site of the first powered flight on a windy December day.  Concrete markers stand in the landing places of the first four flights; the first three are relatively short and close together, while the fourth is far out in the field of the memorial.  Kitty Hawk sits just north of Kill Devil Hills and Nags Head.  To the south, NC 12 takes travelers down along a narrow strip of sand towards Cape Hatteras, where it turns west to follow the rest of the coast.


All along the coast, the waves crash incessantly into the beach.  The sound fades into the background, a steady stream of white noise that just...is.  The rhythm of the waves seems to lull the year-round residents and tourists alike into a state of relaxation.  In the summer or in the fall, the coast beckons with its history, its seafood, its recreation, and its natural beauty.

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.