Monday, May 27, 2024

Shining Light on the Prairie - Wild Life



Went land looking last week. Knew what to expect, in general terms.

Green. Green. More green. That and cicadas. Literally tons of cicadas, all told.



The problem with late spring is that it’s essentially summer, lite.

Spring blooms so rightfully celebrated are all but finished until next year, while summer’s many highlights are still pending. There are, of course, happy exceptions.

 


But typically, to spy most anything remotely singular, one must look through the fresh sea of green rather than at it. That way, hints of life’s amazing diversity obscured until autumn’s hard fall again reveals all, might be seen.

Happily, my late life macro interests remind me how as a child I routinely spotted wild life that others beside me missed.

 

 

Turns out I’d not forgotten, merely neglected.

 


Old knowledge does indeed die hard.

 


For instance, I’m pretty sure this is a Dekay’s Brownsnake. Can’t guess the last time I saw one. Decades for sure, as they’re quite shy and basically nocturnal.

Lest the macro image disorient perspective, my little finger’s bigger 'round than that littler snake taking sun while curled up on a leaf…

 


Then poof, it was gone. Faster even than spring.

 


Speaking of decades, in the end I wandered a spot I’d not been since at least half a century prior. Then, the place was honeycombed by human trails cut through deeply congested acres upon acres of old oak choked by truly pernicious buckthorn that ran roughshod near a river not infrequently used as a sewer.

Stinkin' invasives.

Today these woods are largely a trailless stand of mixed trees, with a steadily rebounding river running through it and a reasonably sparse but exceptionally messy understory to better match its native character. It'd have to be mighty dry, to not be wet.

There being no ready sign of civilization, I found a well-trod deer path and followed that.

 


The muddy way was filthy with tracks. Multiple deer, of course. Also racoon and maybe possum. An array of canine and given I spotted but one other boot track, I presume mostly coyote rather than adventurous dog walkers. In any event, all manner of wild life traversed the wet woods there.

It was good to wander off trail. I’d been absent far too long.

 

 

Since I was on a deer path, it was no real surprise to either of us when I stumbled across a deer. I spotted her in my peripheral vision upon approach. Certainly, she’d heard me coming for a long way and chose not to bolt.

 


I stopped. Instinctively assumed a passive posture. Offered a few soft words. Proceeded to take full advantage of the opportunity presented.

After a short visit I moved on. By then she’d returned to paying me no mind in the whole wild world. Which is only as it should be.

 


As it must be for all of us going forward, in every way we can manage, so for all of wonderous life to not stagger forward in pieces, but rather thrive anew as an organic whole.

Meanwhile, on the cusp of meteorological summer, I say here's to the seasonal safety found in lush green obscurity.

When, where, how and why everyone annually feasts.

 




Monday, April 22, 2024

Thursday, April 4, 2024

Still pending...



Persistently gloomy. Stubbornly chill. Frequently windy.

Rain, spit snow, more rain.

 


Did I mention sodden?



Only the baby lupine are happy. Exuberant, even. They’re of Superior stock.



As am I, save twice more removed.


Thursday, February 15, 2024

Wednesday, January 10, 2024

Cycle of Life


Or in this case, the fungus among us.

 


Typical to autumn, what light manages to reach the forest floor ranges from stark…

 


…to downright dingy.

 


Not infrequently at the same time, in a single frame.

 


That’s a once supremely daunting photographic challenge digital capture today renders all but moot. We do indeed live in an age of imaging wonder.

 


Though otherwise productive, this past season the real challenge proved to be finding suitable fungi to shoot. I'm guessing drought took its toll.

 


Right at the end, after a long spate of coolish temps and adequate rainfall, the fungal season turned propitious.

 


All the land-looking it took to finally find some was a happy bonus.

 


In any event, autumn’s splendor is retreated now and the oak savanna is grey.

 


Winter’s crept in.

 


Tallgrass bows beneath its weight.

 



Tuesday, December 12, 2023

Shining Light on the Prairie - Autumn, later

 


Considerably later, as it turns out.




With spates of unseasonable warmth and adequate moisture well into November, early autumn richness proved resilient.



What might’ve been cold hard work searching brown barrens for splashes of living color, wasn’t that.



As ever, the season’s luxurious long light bore sublime gifts.



It was such a lengthy autumn that even fungi finally cooperated, in the end being fresh out of excuses.



Inevitably, the real world did turn. That’s about as dependable a thing as we have.



Some folk equate autumn with dying. But on prairie sprinkled with oak savanna, even the most pallid light reveals a promise of renewal.



Next stop, winter solstice. After which daylight creeps steadily back into winter's world and old promise is given new life come spring.

Depend on it.




Thursday, November 16, 2023

Shining Light on the Prairie - Autumn, earlier

 


Weeks of premature chill and periodic rain followed by a spate of highly unusual warm, dry weather rendered this year’s autumnal prairie rich.

Will those conditions be seen as ass backwards for long? Perhaps not. We’ll see.

 


But especially given its miserable beginnings, this fall showed real well for itself.

 


I’d mentioned how when I bought the Linhof I considered shooting botanicals, then opted instead for architectural work.

Never expected to come back ‘round to the lives of plants and their great diversity of inhabitors, but here we are.

 


Undoubtedly, my current botanical work benefits from all those years considering the organic geometry of wilderness slowly eating failed construct.

 


The real world creating and later recycling is pretty much all the same thing, whether coming or going. Doesn’t much matter whether earth made it, or we did.

Either way, chaos can seem readily apparent.

 


A worthy subject, chaos. Especially when you look closer and find that what seems chaotic isn’t, exactly.

 


As the season progressed, light life and diverse opportunity continually presented.

 


As I write this, it's a full 16 degrees above 'normal' outside. South winds howl. The sky is suspicious grey. Tomorrow it'll all crash, they say.

But not yet today.