Bainbridge Island

For nearly a year I spent most of my photography time preparing a book on Seattle. I was selected by a publisher, who then sent me a list of locations. The process was fun but tiring, since every weekend I set out with the goal of getting that empty museum or perfect lighting. For many of the places, this was my first time exploring. Little by little, I checked off each place until I had them all, then sent my photos. Of course, no one is perfect and I shouldn't have been surprised to receive a smaller list of places to reshoot, so I headed out again during a holiday weekend. Last on my list was Bainbridge Island. I had sent some photos from an earlier visit, but the publisher wanted some more from the ferry, so as the very last location in the book I set out for a quick return journey. Just after we arrived in Bainbridge, the sky turned orange, the water purple, and everyone streamed to the deck for a look. It was a fitting end to the book, that after countless hours and thousands of photos, I enjoyed a beautiful sunset.

Pika

This is a pika, perhaps my favorite animal when visiting the mountains. Many hikers miss them, as it takes patience to get a good view of one. Their barks, though, are unmistakable, and it's not uncommon to come across people scanning the rocks for their source. Sadly, they're one of the most vulnerable animals to global warming, because they'll die if exposed for even a few hours to high temperatures, and they live on isolated mountain peaks. Therefore, moving to a different territory can be difficult or impossible. On my last trip to Mount Rainier, I spent more time waiting for these little critters than with any other animal (even the bears). They're just so cute, but also are challenging to get a decent photo. They tend to stay distant, and rarely stay in the same place for long. Still, it can be fun to just admire their behavior from a distance.Photo Project #2866.

It seems the more we delve into animal intelligence, the more we find that animals know. Hummingbirds are capable of recognizing the people who feed them. Crows and green herons utilize tools. Dolphins have their own language, while orcas and seals are also capable of complex communication. Even tiny jumping spiders have been found capable of solving puzzles. Personally, my feeling is that humans evolved truly by chance. Our hands give us the ability to achieve difficult tasks and facilitate written communication, but in raw intellectual power we're not outstanding. Without schools that teach us the intricacies of the world, we would all be cavemen with habits not very different from what we call wildlife. We're also still quite stupid in many things. Consider that the average bird can chart a journey from a specific place in North America to another thousands of miles away, without using a calculator or road map. Without a doubt the information leading to multiple Nobel prizes is already common knowledge to many different critters. I like to think about that when I'm observing wildlife. Whether it's a duck or a lion, I'm not watching a lower creature but instead my equal. Each of us has much different goals, but if I can avoid disturbing the animal so it can go about its life, maybe...just maybe...I'll get an interesting shot.

I absolutely love mountain silhouette shots. They're both beautiful and perfect for lazy people like me. You see, most of the time when I'm in a wildlife area I carry a telephoto. It's a very long telephoto, perfect for catching that pausing bird but rather horrible for grabbing that scenic of the valley below. So, when the sun puts on a show, it's often a tough choice whether to pack my big lens away and switch to something smaller. That's even assuming I brought along a tripod. Many times I don't have one. Yet the cool thing with mountain silhouettes is I don't need to do anything! Since I already have the right lens, I just have to point at the right spot and click. Of course, if you've seen one mountain silhouette shot then the next three thousand look pretty similar, but I still rather like them and won't hesitate to grab one. Often I never show them to anyone, since people are primarily interested in beautiful valleys and the hungry bears who inhabit them, but I like how this one came out.

Hawk Show

Hawks like to pick on me. They know my disability, and they won't hesitate to poke it. The problem is I'm utterly incapable of telling the difference between most hawks. I'm aware that there's red-tailed, sharp-shinned, and cooper's and they look quite similar. This one in particular has parted its tail feathers in a way that would make identification completely obvious to the average birder but only frustrate a hawk moron like myself. The following is a rehash of the differences between these birds: - Red-tailed hawks are larger. Sure, that helps if I can convince a cooper's and red-tailed to stand next to each other! - Red-tailed hawks are beefier. So, they're like football hawks? - Red-tailed hawks have a dark bib. Since this one wasn't eating, he probably wasn't wearing it. - Sharp shinned have blunt-edge tails while red-taileds have rounded tails. Let me get my protractor... - Cooper's have more streaks than splotches in their plumage. Well, that kind of helps, only this hawk is being a jerk. That being said, even though hawks can be mean, I still think they're pretty cool.Photo Project #2869.

A Nice Spot

This is Alfred, a green heron who inhabits Marymoor Park. He often hangs out by the beaver nest, but often fishes elsewhere on the river. Because green herons are rather small and this particular one prefers to keep his distance, it can be tough around here to get a decent shot of one. Compounding the issue, from my perspective, is that I've been to places where they're much easier to photograph and far more numerous. Many of my best photos of them, in fact, are from around the Caribbean. However, on this particular day, Alfred had found himself this spot which was illuminated quite well by the sun. Perhaps he was sick of me photographing Argyle and the tons of other blue herons all the time, and wanted to appear on my page. Green herons, like many other animals that we've actually paid attention to, are extremely intelligent. They've been video'd using lures in order to catch fish. Another interesting fact I found was that they have been known to take vacations. A few years ago, one found its way to England, while other (smarter) ones have been witnessed relaxing on the beaches in Hawaii.Photo Project #2871.

Recently, I went on a business trip to another state. I won't name said state, except to say that it's on the other side of the country. When I finished the actual business part, I decided to check out one of the local state parks. Several individuals stated it had the best sunsets, and with the sun coming down I figured I'd grab a good shot. When I started on the trailhead, I felt great. The forest was so beautiful and I anticipated seeing for miles. A couple passed and were gushing over the view, so I couldn't wait. The trail was only a mile and a quarter, but it seemed so much longer. Visions of Rattlesnake Ledge appeared in my mind - nothing but pure glowing countryside in front of my camera. And then I got there. "Is this the main view?" I asked a local. My wife, who was with me, later said this was a bit insensitive. Yet there was no canyon or mountainside in front of me. It was a little peak-a-boo of a hill. Had I a telephoto, I may have been able to get something. The reality, though, was that I had a much better view across the street from my house. This photo is of another short hike in our state that most of you will recognize. This is certainly worth a less than a mile jaunt from the lodge. I guess I'm just spoiled living in this state!

Bears

Many of you will astutely identify these animals as bears. Of the three bears species found in North America, these are of course black bears. They are relatively peaceful creatures, more interested in munching on berries and having bearable lives than chasing down and mauling humans. Nevertheless, the overwhelming majority of people, when faced with a bear, will not attempt to hug or ride one. Neither will most sane tourists chase after them in the hopes for a selfie. Most tend to respect bears. The reason for this is a bear is perfectly capable, when not respected, of lodging a complaint. Being on the other side of a bear complaint is not a pleasant ordeal, and therefore we keep our distance. Yet what about other species that aren't four hundred pounds complete with sharp teeth and long claws? Why do we not hesitate to annoy them? The next time we're tempted to get too close to that fox, it would help to imagine it as a bear instead.Photo Project #2880.

My first encounter with a bear was a bit closer than this one. I was a Boy Scout in camp in the Adirondacks, and that summer they decided to lock down the garbage dump. The bears, with nowhere else to hang out, decided to join the scouts. During the entire camp all of my friends talked about seeing bears, but I never ran into one. At night one nearly walked into two friends' tent and frightened the bejeesus out of them, but I didn't see one, until one evening. We had just finished out dinner and out waltzed a black bear. Instantly we all jumped from the table except for our scout master, a tough old guy who was not to be crossed. Once a mouse died in his coffee pot and he still drank the cup, so a bear didn't faze him. While all of us backed away, he drank his coffee as the bear circled the table. It paused to sniff him, then walked away. Another friend's tent proved too tempting. They had cookies. The bear calmly entered their tent and with one swing sent their bed flying. After finishing off their cookies, it proceeded to trash the entire tent, then retired to the forest. We learned many things that day. We already knew (but didn't always follow) keeping food out of our tents, but we also realized that bears - though powerful animals - are not especially interested in us. They're perfectly happy just walking around us. Fast forward a number of years later, and I realized that had been the last time I really saw a bear (I saw the rear of one running from my car in Yellowstone once). After asking others' opinions, I chose a trail in Rainier National Park and was thrilled to find three. I brought my largest telephoto so I didn't need to be anywhere near as close as that day, and watched them munch in the valley for over an hour.

Today is Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, when we beg forgiveness for our sins. This year, because I'm certain that animals have souls too, I've decided to include them in my list of those I have unfortunately wronged in the last year. First, I'd like to apologize to the Marymoor Coopers Hawks, who I enjoy photographing but I've certainly annoyed in getting too close at times. I realize that you were trying to catch your breakfast and am sorry for the disturbance. Next, I'm sorry to the Marymoor garden weasel, whose hasenpfeffer meal I ungraciously interrupted to take some photos. You were a very good sport about it, but I should have kept a greater distance. Likewise to the many birds who I accidentally scared during my wandering. Many of you I didn't notice until the last minute, but I'm sure you didn't see it that way. I apologize to the beaver who I mistakingly hit with my foot while changing position. I was looking in the distance and didn't realize you'd come by for a chat. You wound up making a big splash and both of us were more than a little surprised, but I would never have moved had I noticed you. I'm sorry to the squirrel who visits our patio table in hopes for food and begs by our door. Those peanuts are for the stellers jays, though I see you ocasionally locate their stashes. I also apologize to the friendly chipmunk at Mt Rainier, who happily posed for a photo but didn't receive any food. You probably don't understand my policy for not hand feeding wild animals, but I should have been more up front with my intentions. Lastly, and most of all, I want to beg forgiveness to the poor rabbit I scared while running on 164th street in Bellevue. It was very dark that morning and you darted into the road where you were struck and killed by a car. I was devastated by your death and have renamed my favorite eight mile route in your honor.

Wood Duck

Photo Project #2888.

Sunrise

Photo Project #2889.

Through the Fog

Photo Project #2891.

Juanita Bay

For this shot at Juanita Bay, I used a revolutionary new flash. Forget your average speedlight or monolight. This one, called the "Solntsye 2019" (2020 version coming soon), can provide amazing light contours over even the largest of subjects. It's also extremely portable, taking literally no room in my backpack. Though this flash can cause effects capable by no other, it does have a few quirks. - There's no on or off switch - The brightness level is nearly impossible to change - It requires regular overnight recharging - It can be quite hot - It cannot be positioned with your standard light stands - The Seattle version comes with a built-in diffuser Still, despite the numerous challenges, I highly recommend it and suggest you seek out your own Solntsye 2019 before the year runs out. Need I also mention that it's on sale? Photo Project #2901.

I've always wanted to photograph the waterfalls along the Columbia Gorge, and a recent trip finally provided me with the opportunity. However, there was one small problem - I had to limit the waterfalls I photographed. You see, the entire reason I was there in the first place was to run a full marathon the next day. A few weeks earlier, I'd put in 35,000 steps and quite a bit of elevation at Mt Rainier, only to call short a 22 mile practice run at mile 17 the next day. So as much as I wanted to "collect them all" I had to pick and choose. I decided to fit in Multnomah, Weisendanger, Ecola, Wahkeena, Fairy, Horsetail, and Ponytail. That seemed tame enough, so I headed out early in the pouring rain (which seemed to only increase every time I pulled out my camera) and began my quest. On my way up to Fairy, the path up was rather sharp and I noticed my feet were hurting. Still, with only Horsetail and Ponytail left, I felt I was still in good shape. When I reached Ponytail, another photographer was already there and occupied the best spot. Since I had no more waterfalls scheduled and plenty of time, I took note of the lens he was using and where it was pointed, then found a spot outside his view and waited. He took some time, so I played word games on my phone for a bit. When he finished, he generously waited for me to get my shots before descending to the edge for some more. We had a pleasant conversation, then I packed up and started to make my way out - only I quickly noticed something drastically wrong. I was limping. My foot had given out and I could no longer put a lot of pressure on it. This wasn't good. I had 26.2 miles to run in eighteen hours and I needed that foot. Gingerly I hopped back down the trail, then drove straight to the hotel. I did not pass Go, nor did I collect two hundred dollars. Instead I went promptly to the room and spent the rest of the day massaging my foot and watching movies. The next morning my sole felt decent, but both small toes were throbbing. Oh well, marathons are a mental game so I threw on my shoes and after a few miles I no longer felt anything. By the time I was drinking my precious hot apple cider at the finish line while cradling my medal, I was hobbling for different reasons. Still, I couldn't help but smile. I'd achieved everything I wanted. Photo Project #2908.

One of the great joys in photography is adapting to what nature gives you. Very often I head out with only a vague idea in mind of what I hope to achieve, and I then let nature show me what's available. I only wish the ducks knew that too. When I noticed the fiery reflection of the sun on the water, I realized the shot I wanted. The only problem was - I needed a duck (or anything) to cooperate. For some time I patiently monitored each sunbeam and the nearest ducks, but each time they moved I had absolutely no luck lining them up. It was as if they knew what my goal was, and were laughing themselves silly messing it up. Yet just when I was on my very last beam, with all the others having dissipated, a lone wood duck took pity on me. This was perfect! Of all the ducks I wanted, this was at the top of my list. As he floated on by I took my shots, then was thrilled to find I had succeeded.

If there were an Instagram for birds, it would be full of wood ducks. I have tons of photos of these gorgeous waterfowl, but I can't resist adding a few more. However, not only are they beautiful birds, but they also enjoy showing it off. For example, at Juanita Bay nearly every time I go one approaches the boardwalk at sunrise. Since I'm at this park often, I have more than a few images like this, but I always take another one. In some other parks, such as Marymoor, they're far more shy and wary, but at Juanita Bay they know you won't leave the boardwalk. For all I know, a bunch of them have liked my page and eagerly look forward to the next wood duck. Well, since this one didn't introduce himself, I'll call him Ralph. So, Ralph, you're the winner for this week!

The Old Tree

Photo Project #2916.