The Zen of Seeing: the Camera or the Pen?

 New Year's Greetings 

Some of my photo friends have noted a slower pace in my sharing photos.  It's more of an artistic shift in attention than distractions.  I'll explain a shift in my artistic direction that I believe will yield deeper engagement and possibly some inspiration. 

My creative eye is still active.  Fortunately, my advanced iPhone is always there to capture and surprise as I wander.  After fifty years, Corning city still can deliver a visual treat like this unexpected autumn view of iconic Little Joe Tower.

The sun directly behind the tower was unplanned.  The appeal of the scene is driven by the two subjects- architecture and autumn reflections.

So it was on a  neighborhood walk that a scene expressed the hopeless wish that fall would just STOP.

In the last year, I have realized how easy it is make beautiful images with no real engagement on the subject.

In October 2023, I discovered The Zen of Seeing by Frederick Franck. The basic premise is that moving from Looking to Seeing engages your mind intimately with the world.  Absent all the complexity of photography,  pen and paper are all really required.  

My sketch book from yesterday engaged my attention for nearly an hour with the result that for the first time, I really was seeing a deer; seeing where eyes are located between nose and ears example.

My goal is not to create art for display but to really see, and ultimately make stronger photos.  An artist has the choice of what to draw and what to leave out.  Neither the deer or the amaryllis sketch has need for background.

So, it is that I more fully see the form of this common vine - maybe Virginia Creeper- that is behind my shed.

Unlike the camera, the act of drawing this completely disengaged me from the passage of time and the daily stresses of life.   Drawing is often described as meditative. There is no pressure to please anyone but self.

As autumn has gone into winter, I am engaging in some photography that creates subjects for sketching.  Here are a few with comments about how this Zen Seeing considers the subject. First is a female Northern Cardinal.

Notice the subtle colors. Other than the brilliant red-orange beak, the colors are difficult to describe.  There are cool yellows blending into greenish browns, plus blue/red mixes.  I've made two attempts in watercolors.  Humbling.

Ah, but the flashy male is easier.

Maybe the male's winter coloration is still difficult?  The wing and tail aren't easy, and forget about the feather details.  Made one  attempt. Not ready to share a cardinal sketch yet.  

There is some advice to ignore the feather details that are difficult.  Will try.

The coloration of the Tufted Titmouse seen at right is a bit less complex.  Perhaps its coloration has less seasonal change?  Let's see below what was created in a recent sketch.

The ink underlay is a bit  strong.  Still drawing shows clear seeing  of plumage, form and coloration.  No comprehension of the bird's feet was necessary on my part to capture the photo.   

At this juncture, the admonition from a friendly preacher  comes to mind.  It went like this:

A good salesperson learns to recognize when the sale has been made and quit talking.  Same goes for the person delivering the sermon.  Time to close with a few wintry images.

 

Remnants of Summer

If I were to sketch the image below, there would be no detail in any crisp features past the windmill.  There is no benefit to that.

The Farm's Only Reminder

The camera looks, but never sees. 

If this stirs any interest, I am happy to share the resources that guided me.  I found it personally freeing to step past exhibit and only draw for myself.  As I began sketching, that was valuable lesson shared with me.

Best wishes for 2025.   

Paul Schmitt

The Bobolinks are here!

Few birds are as exuberant as a male Bobolink in May as it anticipates the arrival of the females.  Its song is a bubbling cascade that is picked up by competing males.  If unfamiliar, it is best to just search for it on the internet.  It's lovely.  The singing is temporary.  Once the pairs begin nesting, the bubbling chorus is replaced by whines and chips.

Bobolinks are a grassland bird that find minor stalks or bushes to perch on for their singing.

The yellow cap on the head and the white on black back of the body earn it the name "Tuxedo Bird".

They are an inquisitive bird that balances the singing with searching for catapillars.  (Saw it but wasn't fast enough to capture on camera.) On the plus side, they are not shy around people.  Was often within twenty feet, standing still naturally.

The bird can perch on very thin grass stalks suggesting how little they actually weigh.

The biggest challenge is being quick enough to actually capture a sharp image of one in flight.  

This was a 1/2000 second shutter on burst mode with eye tracking autofocus. Expect one good image in a hundred whenever I add some anticipation of flight. 

Another trait that I find interesting is their ability to find makeshift perches, sometimes bridging between two stalks.

Bobolinks also display a fluttering flight similar to how various raptors hover when looking for prey.  Seems this is more part of display for these birds.

My most loved behavior is still the full throated song offered with shaking throat feathers from a perch on what ever is available.

This is all so temporary.  In about two months, the grassland will have large flock of adults and juveniles coursing over the meadow before quickly departing southward.

Happy to share where to find these with my neighbors.

Paul Schmitt

Adirondack Autumn Concluded- Seeing in Sixes

Waterfalls and autumn colors are a strong combination.  Here's an image that I had to work hard to compose and yet leaves me with mixed feelings. Why?   The central drop over the precipice hits a huge boulder in the lower right corner and is strongly redirected by 90 degrees to the left.  My eye often follows the flow downward to the right and continues out of the frame; but at times I accept the redirect to the center.

Another waterfall looks best in monochrome.  This has a backstory of a missed opportunity.   A fisherman was casting a fly rod next to the left bridge foundation.  I wanted to show the beautiful arc of the rod as the line looped out over the stream.  That would add a beautiful plus in the composition.  Needed to increase shutter speed.  In the half minute to make the change, he moved downstream and out of the frame.  Lost it!

Never assume the magic with continue.  Still, I like the image as is.

The Adirondacks are about rocks, often big ones.  The huge ones are called glacial erratics.   Their size and mass amazes me.  A rough calculation suggests that this one weighs about 110 tons.  In the fall, the fallen leaves starkly reveal its size.

In fall, I am often looking at the ground after any rain hoping to see mushrooms. That explains why my right knee is often dirty, as I find it necessary to get as low as possible.  The variety of sizes, colors and forms seen in fungi is of great interest to me.  This guy was hard to initially see, as it blended in with the freshly fallen leaf litter.  It's part of the classification called LBMs,  Little Brown Mushrooms.

While exploring the trails at Lake Durant, I discovered a nice joke.   Someone pried open the hollow remains of a fallen tree to position a nice bird box in the center.  Maybe a good caption for the photo would be: 

Is anybody home?

Probably not in October.

After the group dispersed, our leader Chris Murray noted in a message that there is a second part of autumn, which I take to be when attention shifts to smaller areas closer to the ground and more intimate.  Here is the final image that takes it direction from Chris's teaching.

 It offers simple colors and no distractions from the central subject.  I am continuing to photograph here at home mostly using a new phone camera with multiple lenses.  I will post on my progress learning the new system soon.

Paul Schmitt

Fall Mushrooms- Seeing in Sixes

Looking at any of my mushroom field guides, I am intrigued by the variety of forms and colors I see.  The arrival of some nice September rains whispers to me "mushroom foray."  True, a foray is supposed to involve a group collecting fungi for food.  I collect only images, and there are few willing to tolerate my spending 30 minutes photographing just one subject.  So, it's a solo foray.

One rule for my Seeing in Sixes posts is that I can only include new images.  The fun is in the hunt for something new.  Let's begin with a decaying tree stump that resembled a mountain peak.

It reminds me of the rugged peaks in Patagonia that I saw in 2019.   The little orange mushrooms seem to be ascending the steep slopes.

Recalling how I am attracted to the colors seldom seen, the tender purple color of the next fungi was impossible to bypass.  The yellow and light orange leaves also attracted me as they are complementary.

Some would find it humorous to see how obsessed I was with finding the right background.  That clearly explains why I do this solo.

Next is a fungi that really excites me when I find one.  Coral Tooth-fungus presents itself in many forms as it erupts on the side of a tree.

This one had a nice green growth of what I believe is lichen.  It is difficult to capture slightly off-white textures, but luckily the sky was cloudy so there was no sun to blow out the whites. 

Next I found a two-for-one to share.  Fresh Chanterelles on the right are accompanied by the dried shell of a puffball.   (I really got my knees dirty getting down low for this shot.)

The best part here was that nothing had started eating the trumpet edges.  The next mushroom was not quite as fortunate.  Still, I liked the cap's rich color and the setting in the lee side of a decaying limb.

So, I am now at number six.  I wanted to end with this abundant cluster of individual mushrooms.  It is uncommon to see so many so closely packed.  There are at least twenty-six. 

Sometimes, I am asked if a particular fungi is edible. Not important to me.  My reply sometimes is on the line of "sure, but you may have a terrible experience a bit later." I am quite pleased with what I can buy in the grocery.

This is what I found in two outings this week.  I hope it is entertaining to you.  Perhaps it will inspire you to find similar beauty after an autumn rain.

Paul Schmitt

As I Wander in Autumn

 

Going out with a specific goal doesn't always work for me.  On Tuesday, I headed out with a specific goal and very limited equipment.  I'll save that for last.  It was more typical on Wednesday when I just headed in a general direction with a map of back roads to keep me off the popular pathways. First, I found a roadside pond I'd seen last spring with the idea to get permission from the owner to enter.  (I was thinking ducks; did not get an okay.)  This time, I was happy to stay roadside.  

I like the scene.  The red sumac pulls my eye into the blue and yellow.  The reflections double up on the subject matter.  I've got to try again to get permission.  Maybe a photo will soften their heart.

I backtracked a little to head up a single track road into state land.  Soon, I just had to stop in the middle of the narrow road to capture the way the narrow gravel road welcomed me.  The star burst was a bonus.

It only got better about 200 yards farther up the road. I named this image a Golden Maple Framing the Field.

Something in the fore really excites me.  It tells me where I am taking in the view.   Do you see how the distant hill's trees don't have to be in sharp focus for you to enjoy the experience?

This road was making me take notes for next fall.  Another bend and I pulled over again.  Fallen leaves draped over big round glacial boulders were on the edge of the field. Some trees along the left and right sides framed a beautiful orange maple.

 

 

Those three images in less than a mile made it seem so easy to find landscapes in the fall. Maybe I got picky. It was a few miles before I saw an abandoned house that is no long home to anyone.  It seemed better in monochrome.

I turned to go back to the car, and faced a maple matriarch.  The house had so captured my attention that it did not register at first.  It appears that this tree was left, maybe for shade, when all the rest of the woods was clear cut.

This wandering was going well. There was one more country road on my list because it has a tree lined pond.  The drought has lowered the pond to mostly mud and pond scum. Oh well, maybe next year will be okay.  Have you ever noticed how a road or a wood's path looks so different when you reverse direction.  As I left this pond, I saw right in front of me another road to be remembered.  Imagine driving home to this view daily.  This farm family sees it in all four seasons.  Imagine it in snow.

So, this was a pretty good wander.  The day before I took a pre-planned visit to a nearby nature preserve.  I was hiking the trail days before and something about this fallen tree caught my attention.   The tree is very rotten, and when it fell, it left a narrow slot open all the way through the trunk.  I was thinking how this resembled the stone arches seen in Utah's Zion National Park. This was not a photo for a cell phone camera, so some forethought was necessary.  I would need to get really close.

 

So, Tuesday morning I assembled what I needed, including an oddball tripod that allows me to hang the camera upside down nearly touching the ground.  Here is the setup.

My controls are underneath and reversed, but I can see with the articulated display screen what the lens is displaying. To complicate things, the amount of light inside the  tree is much lower than the distant woodland, so I made more than one image and blended them together.

I call this Plymouth Arch in recognition of the like-named Plymouth Woods Preserve.  I am not done with this though. I want to go back on a rainy day when the leaves are vibrant and the light is subdued. It will be a different result.

 

I am thinking this is actually my most satisfying image of the month.

 

Thanks for your interest.

 

Paul Schmitt  

Summer Spectacular

Summer brings some luscious wildflowers to stir our senses.  Here are three that captivate me.  First are the Pink Lady's Slippers.   There is wild, and there is a level above that, that this flower reaches.  It has so far refused to reveal its secrets to human cultivation.  So, finding them in a woodland is so special, that I resist sharing their locations once I find them.  Sadly, the whitetail deer eat them, and I've seen some disappear as a result.

Here is a small bunch I visited a few weeks ago.

There are actually twelve in this photo, so it is a very special location.

Sometimes I see these as group portraits. 

Looking at a single individual,  I see the purest beauty in the world.  Occasionally, a soft light filters through the trees making the flower golden.  Wow!

Another summer delight is the Wild Blue Flag.  While the above Pink Lady's Slippers prefer upland forests, this plant thrives in ponds and bogs.

It sometimes has a companion plant that is as rare as the Pink Lady's Slipper.  It is treated as the royalty of wild orchids in North America.  Feast on the sight of a Showy Lady's Slipper.

Just as is the case for the Pink LS, the Showy holds secrets that have eluded human cultivation.  It seems  mystical to see them.

All of the above take me away from home, so I do need something a bit easier to enjoy.  Today, in my backyard, I was treated to the first bloom of an Opium Poppy. 

This poppy is the opposite of the above orchids.  I just toss the seeds in bare ground, rake and let the rains take care of the rest.  Still, I love seeing them each morning.  I am surprised that the deer don't find them tasty.

I hope you have your own summer flowers to see each day.

Paul Schmitt

Watching in Awe- A Potpourri of Birds

A major goal of my bird photography is sharing examples of why I am in awe of the bird world. It begins with their amazing displays of ornamentation.  This facilitates breeding selection and extends into adaptation.  Not all birds follow ornamentation.  Some take a different path, wherein dark feathers contain melanin which makes the feathers stronger to resist wear.  It seems to me that each successful bird species finds a niche where it avoids direct competition with similar species. If there is direct competition between two similar species, one will adapt better and dominate.  For example, the different woodpeckers in our woods each have a different feeding sector or food preference in the forest.  The Downy does not compete with the Pileated Woodpecker.

Let's begin with a simple example of the Red-breasted Merganser.  It is quite different from the larger male Common Merganser seen at right.  In June, this bird is still in its breeding plumage. 

Enter the smaller Red-breasted Merganser seen below.  First, he has already molted and his iridescent green head is gone. He's now a reddish color. He molted two months before the Common Merganser.  Also, while the Common Merganser dives as deep as 100 feet in large lakes and river, the smaller merganser frequents very shallow water. I observed this reddish merganser picking snails off the cattail stalks.

Similar species, but they are successful in different habitats. Now that I have found this bird's breeding area, I hope to get its photo in breeding colors. Breeding is over, and this boy was silent and red.

Now, let's go to the tuxedo bird.  Some have suggested that the Bobolink looks like he put his tuxedo on backwards.  I was fortunate to capture this male in flight.

I think he looks like a professor in academic robes - pale yellow cap and fringed puffy shirt with a black robe beneath. Breeding was just beginning, so this Bobolink was very vocal.  It's a beautiful song.

I've been following a particular Osprey pair for several years. In the first year, the male had a tough time getting a female to look at his nest.  He called at every large bird that passed hoping it was a female Osprey.  Now, they are bonded and get down to business quickly. Two small chicks are in the nest, and the male has begun his regular fishing for them. I have a good view of their nest right at my eye level. Here comes the male with a fresh catch.

It's pretty easy to tell which is the male. First, he is notably smaller. Since he is diving into the water  for each catch, his feathers are cleaner than the female who spends long hours at the nest.  When the chicks get close to fledging, she will join in fishing to match the chicks huge appetite.

At this early stage, the chicks are small and their heads are barely visible - usually only seen when being fed as shown below.

The male won't stay long at the nest. He'll be back fishing soon. Note the bunch of bedding to the right on the nest. It looks like fibers from cornstalks to me.

This COVID-19 pandemic has closed a lot of parks and some favorite natural areas. One of my best locations just opened recently, any only for only three days a week. In the absence of visitors, a Red-tail Hawk has taken residence in the park's pavilion and the adjacent camper-cabin area.  There is staff working there on renovations, so the bird has become a bit habituated to small numbers of people.  I've been able to get close to the bird by being patient and not directly approaching it. Today, this paid off for me.  I was only 100 feet away.

I am guessing the hawk has been very successful here.  I only saw two squirrels and no chipmunks in the area.  She is pretty good at picking concealed places, such as this gnarled pine tree.

Note how well her body coloration blends in with the tree branches.  Both male and female share this coloration which supports hunting success.  It works. When I arrived two days ago, I knew she was in the area but could not spot her. Thirty minutes later I returned to my car, and she flew out of the tree across from my car.  I had looked there initially, and I can only gain respect for her ability to stay hidden.

There is a similar story for the warbles, and I hope to have the patience to find the subjects to fill in the narrative.

Kind regards,

Paul