When does spring arrive?

Good question about when spring really starts.  Looking at my past years photos, the variability of dates is large. Below is a notable memory from February 2011.  Skunk Cabbage arguably is the first native flower.  But its first emergence is not  February, more likely in early March. It is a bit unusual to see it emerging through a crust of snow.  The plant senses increasing daylight and begins a catalytic reaction to melt the ground.  The hood,  Spathe, shelters the pollen-rich Spadix.  The flower smells like carrion so flies are attracted.  The flies gather the pollen, but there is no actual food reward to the fly.

My interest in this plant is in part promoted by my desperation to find something to photograph.  Guess one can suggest that I,too, am fooled just like the fly.  However, I protest.  It is a serious challenge to find just one suitable example with the Spadix visible.  After all, the flies are attracted by smell, and it need not be visible to succeed.  My first trip to photograph in March found many, but none with a visible Spadix.  Finally a good example was found on April 4.

Actually, these were three were all growing in close arrangement with only  two Spadix visible (and, only if I reflected extra sunlight into the spathe.)  The colors were a spectacular purple, warm green and amber yellow.  (I've tried  three times to capture the hues using watercolor with little success.)

One shot was not enough.  Had to get closer.

Looking at my garden, I see many native plants sending up new growth including bloodroot, trillium, lung wort and wild leeks. Perhaps the other benefit of pursuing these first blooms is preparing cameras, lenses and achy knees for the spring photo bonanza.  

Paul Schmitt

Some Winter Beauty

In early February, a small group of nature photographers gathered in the Thousand Islands region of New York for winter landscapes under the leadership of Chris Murray.  He is a local resident with broad knowledge of both photography and the available areas to explore. 

Conditions were beautiful with fresh snow on the second day.  The graceful birch tree seen below is decorated with new snow.  A middle ground cradles the birch and a distant sky of ultramarine plus puffy clouds completes the offering.

Images with multiple layers are appealing.  Beginning with a strong subject in the fore is sure to encourage exploration like the following scene.   Had to kneel low in the snow so that the cattails nearly touched the twin evergreens.  The distant trees highlight the pair of main subjects. (It was so cold that the coat of snow on my pants just dusted off cleanly.)

Other times, the subject is not low such as these remnants of the summer leaves.The white snow nicely isolates the beech leaves from an otherwise busy background.  That's a key benefit of fresh snow.  There's just a light amount of bluish gray on the snow. Lovely.

Back on my knees again for this setting of some Milkweed.  They are a winter favorite, and the setting here presented an exciting composition wherein you see a central stalk with two distant ones that guide the eyes to the top of the main stalk. 

Here's another setting that has two supporting elements. The Goldenrod is the main subject.  The massive Oak cradles the weed's stalk, so both sweep in a counter-clockwise flow.  Worked hard on this as there were other stalks that needed a gentle shift to the sides.

Back close to the ground with snow up to my knees.  This simple image of grass stalks benefits from fresh snow.   It is not always necessary to have multiple layers to the composition.

Time to add some wonky images.  This  might be called Waiting for Summer.  Boats are stacked in the Wellesley Island State Park's marina, just waiting.  It was so cold that colors were temporarily unavailable.

Next to the  boat launching ramp, the concrete walls had  weathered to appear as a midnight lightning storm.

Another stop was the "Wall" at DeWolf Point State Park (also on Wellesley Island). The "Wall" is an exposed rock wall from the last glacial event. 

The interplay of the weathered rock surfaces with lichens and mosses create intriguing patterns.  It's a visual playground open to many interpretations. I see two large fishes in the rock face below.

 Should I return next winter, it's sure I will not see the fishes but rather something equally as puzzling.

Time to end with a subject that can be agreed upon.  Sunset on the frozen St. Lawrence River looking towards Kingston, Ontario.  The Thousand Islands Tower is opposite the setting sun to the far right.

 

Many thanks to fellow photographers  Kathy, Kent, Bob and our leader Chris for both their companionship and creative inspiration.

To my blog followers, thanks for your interest and appreciation.

 

Paul Schmitt

An Autumn Challenge- Capturing the Belted Kingfisher's Flight

My photo interest in the Belted Kingfisher goes back to April 2016 when I found an often-frequented fishing perch on the edge of the large Catherine Marsh that stretches between Montour Falls and Watkins Glen.  This image was the first time that I succeeded in  anticipating the dive toward a fish.  It's not perfect, but still an inspiration. The problem in collecting multiple captures begins with the bird never really giving a hint that it's going to attack. Secondary is that from year to year the perches shift locations. Now, that perch location is choked with duck weed.

In 2020, I again found a good perch area and captured some good inflight results like this.

Camera technology is also improving with faster shutter speeds and eye tracking auto focus.

The real enabler is finding a reliable perch where I can be "unseen".  Got that this autumn. I can even comfortably sit in my SUV.  Here's the dominate bird.

 I say dominate because I've frequently seen warfare with a second kingfisher.  Today I was limited for time, yet got this composite of the bird launching an attack.  Note how the wing positions show a sequence from unfurling the wings,  a strong down stroke, and a recover upwards.  These three are just 1/20 seconds apart.  Just luck.

What's next?  Well, I can dream of a longer sequence with even better light and perhaps facing me a little more.  

Enjoyable to see this so clearly.

Paul Schmitt

The Second Season- American Goldfinches in August

Spring and early summer nesting get most birding attention, and rightly so. However, right now in August, the American Goldfinches are putting on a fun show.  This a favorite image of mine. The male goldfinch has lost a single seed to the breeze.  No problem.  There's abundance aplenty.

The Goldfinch is a very small bird at about 5 inches long and only 13 grams.  The male has brilliant lemon yellow feathering with deep black on forehead and wings.  The female, seen later, is notably more subdued. Both male and female are very vocal in early summer but mostly quiet once nesting begins.

At the time I captured the image below, the female was on the nest and the male was collecting seeds to feed her. He will do that for about two weeks while she incubates the eggs.  Then he will feed both chicks and the female.  Close to the time when the young are fledged, she will join in the feeding.

Let's first look at the male.  The rich lemon yellow body immediately captures attention along with the black forehead and wing primaries.  He's about 5 inches long, as is the female.  At 13 grams, they are about equal to an AAA battery.  In mid August, this male was collecting seeds to feed his mate sitting on eggs.  Later, he will be busier feeding chicks.

When I began following goldfinches in June, they were singing often, perhaps keeping connected as they foraged.  Now, they are silent.

The female builds the nest.  This year, I was able to find a female gathering nesting material.  Various sources say she uses plant fibers, spider webs and, especially, thistle down.  Here, her beak is full of down.  Some sources say the nest is tightly built and weather resistant. Never found one. While identical in size to the male, her colors are subdued and there is no black forehead.

While I did previously note that the male feeds his mate incubating the eggs,  yesterday I did photograph a female feeding on seed heads in our garden.   It was a warm, dry morning so I consider the temperatures allowed her excursion. 

They do love Cone Flowers.  We leave the stalks standing through the winter and often see goldfinches picking on them.

Second to Cone Flowers are both Monarda didyma and M. fistulosa.  Here's a showy male on M. fistulosa.

I have lots more images of these golden visitors, but keep telling myself to curb the impulse to overdo my enthusiasm.

Hope this encourages some to find a bit of late summer joy.

Paul Schmitt

How Time, and the Nesting Season Flies

The birds that nest around my home are a favorite part of summer, It begins with their song long before the furious rush begins to feed their chicks.  It's already over for my beloved House Wrens. Let me explain.

My Mom said I was skipping school one morning in May. I was in third grade.  A pair of  House Wrens had built their nest in the clothespin bag that hung above the porch railing, close to our kitchen window.  She said the wren chicks were close to leaving the nest.  I sat at the kitchen window with a view of the nest, and as predicted, the little wrens formed a line along the porch railing begging for food.  I was hooked.  

Now, we've had House Wrens nesting for 35 years. Sometimes, the pair becomes very accepting of our presence. Other times it seems to be a new pair and we are scolded. This year's pair is accepting.  I have learned that the adults often sing when they bring food to the box.  Later, I will explain why this is important.  

Seven days ago, this wren brought a dark caterpillar, and the chicks were too small to appear in the nest hole. 

Initially, the adult enters into the box.  The exit is very fast and a challenge to capture. They have 3 to 5 beaks to fill, so there is not time to waste.

 

Actually, as the chicks grow, the pace gets frantic. Sometimes, I've timed the visits at under a minute with both adults active.

Occasionally the adult is inside for a while. It is usually housekeeping.  Specifically, the chore is removing a fecal pellet.  Again, hard to get the timing.

Soon,  feeding is often outside.  

Now, the hole gets crowded.

Surely, this was what my Mother saw on the evening before she decided to keep me home.  I clearly recall that she explained how I was going to learn more than my third grade teacher could offer.  However, her words were a bit sharper than I'd care to repeat. 

A day later the box was empty, and I was hearing the adults singing to the fledglings in the bushes out front. The early singing before delivering food is conditioning the chicks to exit the box when it is time to leave the box. I've also seen this in woodpeckers. 

A day later now, and it sounds like the wrens have dispersed. How quickly the nesting season disappears. 

Thanks, Mom.

Paul Schmitt

The Return of Our Eastern Bluebirds

After a two year absence, a pair of Eastern Bluebirds have returned to the nest box in our grassy backyard.  In 2021, this male posed on a dead stick above the nest box before dropping down to deliver food to the chicks.

I had been seeing small flocks of them on my neighborhood walks.  There were at least three juveniles along with an adult.  In the last week, there was increased activity, especially near the box and a male entering with food.  So, I set up my pop-up blind on the evening before hoping for some warm morning sunlight to bring out their colors.

Shortly after 8:30 am, the male arrived with a juicy green caterpillar.  Amazing color.

Bluebirds are very fast, so a prime objective was to capture a bird in flight.  (There is a pretty high strike-out rate.  Couldn't afford to do this in my film days.)   Shutter was at 1/2000 second, and I was wishing for even faster.  Whew!

There was another behavior displayed.  Recalling that weeks before, a juvenile Bluebird was seen following an adult, there was the possibility that some of these first brood juveniles would join in bringing food to the chicks.  Here is one of the first brood arriving with food.

On several occasions, a juvie did pop in while an adult was inside feeding. It appeared that it backed away and  probably ate the catch.   

On other instances, the juvenile exhibited real curiosity such as when this youngster peeped into the side opening to observe.

There were also some squabbles contesting access into the box.

Mixed in with these comings and goings, there were also pauses and diversions of attention such as when this adult Robin arrived on the perch attached above the nest box.  

The vivid orange breast was too rich to ignore and the pose so notable.  I welcomed the intrusion since the bluebird harvest of bugs had slackened.

I am thinking that in about 7 to 10 days, the new brood will be crowding the entrance opening just before they fledge.  Wishing for a nice warm morning light to once again photograph.

Thanks for letting me share this experience.

Paul Schmitt

Something Special in April

No complaining today about clouds hiding the eclipse.  After several years of struggle, our Lenten Roses have produced a vigorous display.  The proper name is Heliborus orientalis.  We have fenced it each winter to thwart the hungry deer, and I'd say it was worth the effort.  

The first plant is pink tending to a sort of a mauve shade. Looking closely one sees the petals have speckles of darker values.  The right bloom is finished and should soon show a seed pod. 

The second plant is tending towards a warm yellow with some clearly greenish shades.  It, too, has the speckles. 

There is a steady stream of small bees and perhaps even small wasps.  After all, there aren't a lot of competitors on April 9 and 10.  

I'm seeing a lot of other plants emerging, so expect some images of spring in the gardens and the woodlands.

 Paul Schmitt

Trees in Winter

Picture that you are in the National Gallery of Art , sitting with me on a large, comfy leather couch enjoying walls of lovely impressionist paintings.  A small group of visitors come in to the gallery and with machine-like efficiency make cell phone images of every painting on the walls, and then move on to the next gallery.  Look closely and you'll see a guard sigh.  The visitors have documented but never really seen any of the paintings.  Such a waste of Monet.  So many look, so few really see.  That's always been the primary use of photography.  My story today is about how I could move past documenting. Maybe it will inspire you.

It's been a goal of mine through 2023 to move towards really seeing.  With the leaves off trees in late fall, my images have studied trees.  Here's a tree in my friend Leo's beautiful woodlot.

Actually it  is two trees.  The one on the right began it's life growing on a fallen dead tree. After years, the dead tree disappeared leaving three legs arching to the ground.  On left, a younger tree grew up between two legs.  Maybe it's a three-legged tree with a "friend". Anyway, it is interesting and worth really moving from looking to seeing.  I did that by sketching it and adding watercolors.  I devoted about 2-1/2 hours going from a tree to a combination of particular parts that add  up these two trees. Once complete, this was not just a tree, but now it is an individual. 

There's a difference.  This experience is at the heart of what can move photography from look to see.  My time in the recent months has been a balance of sketching and photographing with the aim to shift images to seeing.  (No more sketches now, just photos representing deeper seeing.  I find it easier to draw when no one gets to see my mistakes.   Also, working in ink taught me to ignore errors and just keep moving forward.)

Here is a scene from along Rock Creek in Washington, DC.

The beech trees are tenacious.  They take hold on top of the rocks and send roots around all stony barriers.  Removing all color often removes distractions to really seeing.  (Consider this a portrait and maybe it will influence family snapshots you make?)

Still along Rock Creek on an explore one morning, there is this fallen tree washed into the creek.  The reflection of the tree in the foreground caught my attention.  Typically, my eye begins exploring at the strongest contrast, which in this case it was the tip of the dead tree at the reflection.

What follows is a simple image that I first sketched with much attention to the textures of the huge oak tree in the fore. 

The tree textures in the middle ground also were sketched in detail.  This is also in Rock Creek Park.

There are also times where color deserves attention.  On a post-Christmas wander in Leo's woods, I spotted a sulfur colored fungus on a decaying beech stump.  It's a good example of moving from look to see.  First, I needed the distance to be de-focused.   Next, the subtle greens and rusty leaves seemed so much of the story that monochrome was out of the question.

I made over 40 images of this before I was happy with the background.  The stump needed to be separated from the hemlock to the left and beyond that, the rest needed to be blurry.  That's the way I will sketch this for a watercolor.  

The above was of such deep involvement that I lost all sense of time. That's a real benefit of learning to really look deeply. It's a type of Zen (seeing) that I first discovered in the National Gallery.  I am doing more sketching now than photographing,  yet when the camera is involved the influence of drawing with pen on paper is strong.

As I write this, the long range weather forecast uses the word snow.  I'm excited to have the simplicity of snowy ground, but it is unlikely I will find it possible to hold a pen and draw with cold fingers.  My seeing will only move to drawing once inside.  

My hope is that there is a mix of entertaining images plus useful ideas.

Best wishes for 2024.

Paul Schmitt

Finding the Essense of Autumn

In the last post, my story was about how to create fall photography in a less than optimum autumn.  Since that post, there has not been a magical turnaround in our landscape. However, on return from 3-1/2 days in the higher elevations at Blackwater River in northeastern West Virginia, the results were a confirmation of the last post. Here goes the picks of the trip.

From the rim of the Blackwater River Canyon in the state park, this twisted tree captured my attention.  After many slight shifts in position, a layered image was discovered.  Notice that none of the three vertical tree elements on the left side touch.

The first version of this was captured with my iPhone 13 Pro.  I returned the next day when the light's direction was better.  If you first see a nice image, make it then.  There is no guarantee about the situation a day later.

On another day I was at Dolly Sods.  It is a high-elevation rocky wilderness area hosting sphagnum moss, heath shrubs and stunted red cedar normally seen in Canada.  There were rich colors.

Color was to be found also at lower elevations.  Once out of the canyon, the Blackwater takes a winding course with beaver ponds and less exotic flora.  In October, asters, such as this one, are a reliable source of rich color.

 

The valley had large clusters of  ferns.  These violet asters were complemented by the orange and yellow ferns. 

Here's a good example of my earlier suggestion to photograph now, rather than procrastinating for a better day.  After making this image, a local gentleman shared that the barn is scheduled to be demolished in a few weeks.  It won't matter how brilliant the fall is next year for this barn.

There are large bogs of huckleberries in Dolly Sods.  I was drawn to this setting by the lonely white stalk of a dead weed standing among all of the reddish leaves in the bog.  The distant mountain ridge suggests the extent of the field.

Many people are discouraged by a rainy morning, but the softness of the light and the moisture on the land can produce lovely results.  The last morning dawned foggy with a few sprinkles.  Several photographers passed this single dying fern without seeing the echo of its arch in the broken tree branch on the ground.  That's no criticism, but rather a simple example of the variety in what each person finds interesting. This is what my eyes first attached upon.  Do you find it beautiful?

I've always had a "thing" about decaying tree stumps.  Its only ones from natural collapses, never ones from chain saws.   The way falling leaves decorate the stumps in autumn attracts me.  Consider this one.

Oh, the fog had lifted and some delicious warm light bathed the setting.

I have been holding back with my two favorite images.  I love the creamy look of slow exposures on waterfalls.  If by chance, there is a recirculating eddy to include in the foreground, I will take some small personal risks to explore the possibilities.  The path there was sort of  goat path.  This is the Upper Elakala Falls in the Blackwater State Park.  

 I did a lot of small shifts to place the flat rock in the lower left corner.  Little details matter.

A second love for me is when form, colors and separation from the background just fall into place.  This one did.  Notice how the yellow-green fern is echoed by a brown fern in the back. 

There are nine images here.  Only two large landscapes.  The rest are intimate.  It seems the season may be best captured with a balance from wide to close.  If you look at the professional film and video, you will see how the framing is rarely repeated with each 10 second clip.    

Paul