blue night
april 23, 2006
barefoot beach, florida

"this whole damn world can fall apart
you'll be ok, follow your heart
you're in harms way i'm right behind...
don't let go... you've got the music in you."
     --new radicals, "you get what you give" from maybe you've been brainwashed too

there are days i feel as though i'm just beginning to learn photography instead of having held a camera in my hands nearly my entire life. i have to remind myself that photography is the art of light and this very expensive box of electronic do-dads in my hand is just that - electronic do-dads.

still, it's a whole new ball game. the sensor is radically different, and thus "sees" what i see in a very new way. the focusing system is quite different. thom hogan comments that what you *think* you are focusing on may well not be the focal point at all. yikes.

so i am reading, reading, reading. i wake up knowing i will face another day of "sponge-ness", soaking up everything i can cram into spare moments. i have to catch myself at times and get up (!), get out, and actually apply this stuff. shooting is the real learning time.

tonight, new radicals turned up loud at sunset, staring west out beyond beautiful light falling away across the water to the west, i discovered that i can change focus points. little red squares illuminated in the viewfinder as i moved them from top to bottom, side to side. i suppose this ability has been around for a few models. where have i been?

focus. isn't that just grand.

everything old is new again.

nikon d2x, nikkor 12-24 dx @ 12mm, 30 seconds, f/10

early morning on the sandbar
april 22, 2006
wiggins pass, florida

"crazy as I may make my way through this world
it’s for no one but me to say what direction I shall turn...
i am the captain of this ship."
     --dave matthews, "captain" from busted stuff

i started out the day rolling the kayak over on the dock just before dawn. first light was beginning to blush at the eastern end of the canal and the calm air had that pre-dawn hush i love so much. the dock lights reflected off the water and cast eerie shadows. as i finished rolling it over, a very large mangrove rat darted from the bow to the spot just behind my seat were my life vest is stowed.

i'm not sure which of us was more startled. i'd probably have won, had someone had a camera to capture the expression on my face. i was not expecting an inhabitant in the boat - especially not this one.

with some urging (read: roll the boat back over and pound on the bottom of it), my illegal boat tenant finally dropped out of the boat, darted across my bare feet, and disappeared into tangle of shrubs just up from the dock.

eesh.

despite a dubious launch, it was a maiden voyage for the d2x. shooting was strange. this camera is much, *much* larger than the d100 and the old faithful pelican box cannot contain it with a lens on it. i've purchased and returned several new pelican boxes - while they fit the camera, they don't fit the kayak. today, i improvised, stowing the camera with the body cap in the pelican box and attaching a lens only when i needed to shoot. an ok bandaid fix, but this will never work as a long term solution.

and such is the way of it. you buy one new piece of equipment and a domino effect transpires. new pelican boxes, and if they don't work, you begin thinking about new kayaks. new tripods. new glass.

a step up sure can include a lot of extra baggage.

nikon d2x, nikkor 80-400 vr @ 400mm, 1/640, f/7.1

red sun falls behind lover's key
april 21, 2006
new pass, florida

"one should really use the camera as though tomorrow you'd be stricken blind."
     --dorothea lange

nikon d2x, nikkor 80-400 vr @ 400mm, 1/8, f/14

magenta water lily
april 20, 2006
my garden, florida

"i take photographs, and that's a journal - it's what i see in a given period of time. it's a document of where my eyes have come to rest."
     --joni mitchell

the plot of land i call home is alive with color. magenta and purple water lilies blooming in the water garden and the first shoots of the lotus that was dormant last summer. a giant blood red amaryllis behind the water garden. creamy white gardenias, jasmine and siberian irises, purple society garlic, pink and magenta geraniums and my beloved blue sky vine. one need only walk out my door to be surrounded by beauty beyond measure.

and so i do. it brings a smile and a need to add this day to my visual journal. color. light. fragrance. a camera. ambition.

every ingredient is assembled.

nikon d2x, nikkor 60 micro @ 60mm, 1/320, f/13

purple water lily
april 18, 2006
my garden, florida

"the urge to create, the urge to photograph, comes in part from the deep desire to live with more integrity, to live more in peace with the world, and possibly to help others to do the same."
     --wynn bullock

"if you are not willing to see more than is visible, you won't see anything."
     --ruth bernhard

nikon d2x, nikkor 60 micro @ 60mm, 1/30, f/18

gardenia
april 18, 2006
my garden, florida

"at my age, flowers scare me."
     --george burns

i have a gardenia bush outside my office door at the edge of the water garden. it has lived in nearly as many places as i have. i took it from my father's home after he was gone and the house was sold. it has survived a great deal including my own winter neglect, and still, it blooms each spring with absolute magnificance.

i have tried to photograph one bloom each year, a humble chronicle of such unexpected beauty. lined up, these photographs are a timeline of evolving cameras, skills, styles and memories.

today, i decide it is a good homework assignment for my photography students: find something in your life and photograph it at the same time each year. watch how it all evolves...skills, styles, colors, visions. no one ever quits learning. ever.

right this instant, this bloom fills the room i sit in with a fragrance that seems a rich reward for the few hours i spend tending it. pure creamy white joy floats in the air.

nikon d2x, nikkor 60 micro @ 60mm, 1/80, f/4

sunrise & tule fog over farmland
april 15, 2006
state road 82, florida

moonset behind citrus groves
april 15, 2006
state road 82, florida

sunrise ballerinas
april 15, 2006
state road 82, florida

""see how willingly nature poses herself upon photographer's plates. no earthly chemicals are so sensitive as those of the human soul. all that is required is exposure, and purity of material. the pure in heart shall see god!'""
     --john muir

a trip at sunrise to another coast, driving the long way down back roads, a full moon setting behind me in the reflected glow of daybreak ahead of me. at times, fog so thick it was hard to drive; around other bends in the road, ethereal tule fog wrapped itself around tree trunks and bathed pastures and citrus orchards in soft chiffon.

it is good to get away, see new scenery, and yell your own internal "stop!" at each and every instance of good light. and surely, it's pure joy to stop each and every time, chasing light eastbound, all the way into day.

nikon d2x, nikkor 24-120 vr, hanging over barbed wire fences, sharing the views with half-awake bovines.

dune sunflower
april 14, 2006
my garden, florida

"someone was sitting in front of a sunflower, watching the sunflower, a cup of sun, and so i tried it too. it was wonderful; i felt the whole universe in the sunflower."
     --shunryu suzuki

morning ushers in such joy in my garden. it is quiet and full of tentative light. i visit my flowers and shrubs, welcoming each into today.

this morning, i watched the full moon sink into the gulf of mexico at the end of my canal at sunrise. alone on the beach well after dark last night, i watched it rise. it is a gift, watching it complete its circular journey in harmony with the sun.

rising and falling. circular patterns. loops of energy and movement. time passing by, dressed in glorious light.

nikon d2x, nikkor 60 micro @ 60mm, 1/640, f/8

eighty past
april 13, 2006
barefoot beach, florida

"it is light that reveals, light that obscures, light that communicates. it is light I "listen" to. the light late in the day has a distinct quality, as it fades toward the darkness of evening. after sunset there is a gentle leaving of the light, the air begins to still, and a quiet descends.  i see magic in the quiet light of dusk. i feel quiet, yet intense energy in the natural elements of our habitat. a sense of magic prevails. a sense of mystery. it is a time for contemplation, for listening - a time for making photographs."
     --john sexton

nikon d2x, nikkor 12-24 dx @ 12mm, 13 seconds, f/22

society garlic in early morning light
april 13, 2006
my garden, florida

"if a day goes by without my doing something related to photography, it's as though i've neglected something essential to my existence, as though I had forgotten to wake up."
     --richard avedon

one of the many things i cherish is the ability and opportunity to have a garden just beyond my work and living space. often neglected this time of year for sheer lack of time, i spent nearly the entire weekend trimming, planting, coaxing, and encouraging the many blooming varieties that live there.

each area of green space is a zone of some kind of idea i had at some random moment. as these zones have matured, weathering hurricanes, drought and my own neglect, i have tried to include fewer exotics and more florida native blooms. the exceptions are my roses and waterlilies. the new additions are dune sunflowers and bahama cassias.

one other such zone is the border of diverse flowers that line my back patio, primarily planted as a butterfly garden. this society garlic bloom, while not technically a true florida native (it's native to south africa), is a hardy florida perennial with delicate purple edible blooms topping long, slender green stalks.

it brings me such delight to watch it float in the early morning easterly winds, teasing the light that promises to illuminate it.

resistence is futile.  some photographs simply must be made.

nikon d2x, nikkor 80-400 vr @ 270mm, 1/250, f/5.6

orange
april 11, 2006
barefoot beach, florida

"there are infinite shadings of light and shadows and colors... it's an extraordinarily subtle language. figuring out how to speak that language is a lifetime job."
     --conrad hall

nikon d2x, nikkor 80-400 vr @ 270mm, 1/40, f/18

ripples in the sand
april 10, 2006
barefoot beach, florida

"see everything; overlook a great deal; correct a little."
     --pope john xxiii

nikon d2x, nikkor 12-24mm dx, 1/100, f/18

dendrobium orchid
april 7, 2006
my garden, florida

"nothing in science can account for the way people feel about orchids. orchids seem to drive people crazy. those who love them love them madly. orchids arouse passion more than romance. they are the sexiest flowers on earth. "
     --susan orlean, "the orchid thief"

i have a large hanging shelf of orchids fastened to the underside of my grapefruit tree. they're a motley bunch, in various stages of abject neglect and breathtaking beauty. some i have purchased, some have been gifts, some rescued from other, more neglectful places, and a few are temporary boarders.

darwin thought orchids are the most perfect, highly evolved life form on earth. he believed they have perfect "adaptive and fertilization contrivances". and indeed, it is more through neglect than attention that they thrive.

my white dendrobiums are languishing with wildly delicate white blooms in this early morning's sweet light. i wander out to visit them just as the sun crests the foliage fence that faces east.

strongly backlit, i'm drawn to their mystery like the insects that pollinate them.

nikon d2x, nikkor 60mm micro, 1/125, f/13, tripod, manual focus

ring of fire
april 6, 2006
new pass, florida

"i took to photography like a duck to water. i never wanted to do anything else. excitement about the subject is the voltage which pushes me over the mountain of drudgery necessary to produce the final photograph. "
     --bernice abbott

i took a student on a field trip today. we'd progressed through a few weeks of learning the basics of his nikon d200, manual exposure, focus strategies, white balance tactics, and now it was time to explore and experiment. i loaned him my 80-400 vr and we headed out to new pass. i know of an osprey nest there - and in fact, cut my own long lens teeth on that very nest.

he was pleased indeed. great weather, blue skies, willing birds and sharp photographs. a good day's lesson. his excitement at taking another step forward makes my day shine.

i returned to the bridge tonight. its rare to find an elevated vista in florida, so for that, its a favorite spot of mine. the late afternoon sky gave a hint of drama to come.

i wasn't disappointed.

nikon d2x, nikkor 12-24 dx @ 12mm, 1/15, f/20, iso320

winking
april 5, 2006
my office, florida

"all along the lee shore,
shells lie scattered in the sand
winking up like shining eyes at me, from the sea.
and here is one like sunrise, older than you know.
it's still lying there where some careless wave
forgot it long ago..."
     --david crosby, from "lee shore" (crosby and nash)

these shells, collected on the lee shore i walk so many evenings, sit at the base of my monitor. they remind me, when work keeps me indoors, of soft sand, good light and the smell of the ocean.

photographed in a tiny cluster, handheld, with indirect side light from the desk lamp at night.

nikon d2x, nikkor 60mm micro, 1/10, f/7.1

a new beginning
tiny white star jasmine
april 5, 2006
my garden, florida

"the secret to a rich life is to have more beginnings than endings."
     --dave weinbaum

i sat out on the seawall near the dock this afternoon, inhaling the sweet smell of fresh star jasmine blooms, and shot one of the first images from my new, very large, very over-the-top camera. it's a dicey deal, separating from the old one that your hands know so well. there are new controls, there are new ways of seeing, there are different mechanisms and a personality - a very big luminous personality - to learn.

so just minutes out of the box, i say a little hello and hold it gently in my tentative hands. i sit and look through it, wondering how my art - my vision - will change with it attached to me. it is a warm beginning, full of hope and promise.

a new photograph is born.

nikon d2x, nikkor 60mm micro, 1/640, f/6.3

nautilus shells revisited
april 4, 2006
my office, florida

"to be a photographer, one must photograph. no amount of book learning, no checklist of seminars attended, can substitute for the simple act of making pictures. only the journey matters.."
     --henry callahan

apparently, april 4, 2006 is my day for spiral vision. i started the day with the rose (below) and am ending it with a different treatment of a nautilus shell i photographed years ago using a much different lighting technique.

i find it interesting how a physical need can collide with a vision, then be fused with opportunity - and a photograph can emerge. between tedious "life chores" tonight, i was suddenly overcome with the "need" to photograph something. i happened, at that moment, to be passing by a large display of shells i have near a window overlooking my canal. the nautilus rested there, among others i have collected along the way. i picked it up, held it, and immediately "saw" the lighting, the compositions, everything.

with the 60 micro on my overworked d100, i set up the compositions in the office, fiddled briefly with the lighting, rested my elbows on the old wooden desk, manually adjusted focus, and captured nine images, each with different f/stops and white balances.

exactly three minutes of post-processing labor later, i am happy.

sometimes, an image just takes hold of something deep inside,  and speaks in a voice you cannot ignore.

and that, to me, is real photography. never ignore the need.

nikon d100, nikkor 60mm micro, 1/30, f/4

red rose
april 4, 2006
my garden, florida

"there came a time when the risk to remain tight in the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom."
     --anais nin

morning bloomed quietly in my garden today. i wandered in the grass and across the davit pad to the seawall, dew clinging to my bare toes. the first hint of light spread across the eastern sky at the end of my canal slowly as tiny puffs of condensation flew overhead, streaming in from the gulf. star jasmine perfume hung in the air just behind the huge palm next to the dock.

delicious.

my roses are blooming again. dark blood red folds in the first light of day. i wish i were miniature, able to slide down velvet petals and wrap myself in all that red.

the day begins dreaming of tomorrow. the last of the captured.

nikon d100, nikkor 60mm micro, 1/80, f/4

watching the sun set
april 3, 2006
barefoot beach, florida

"to take photographs is to hold one's breath when all faculties converge in the face of fleeing reality. it is at that moment that mastering an image becomes a great physical and intellectual joy."
     --henri cartier-bresson

nikon d100, nikkor 24-120 vr @ 58mm, 1/20, f/18

red mangroves
april 1, 2006

"there are no other everglades in the world. they are, they have always been, one of the unique regions of the earth; remote, never wholly known. nothing anywhere else is like them."
     --marjory s. douglas

different people recharge - refuel - themselves in different ways. after many months of working hard and too little time in my kayak, i accepted an invitation to paddle in the everglades this weekend.

and it was an exquisite time, full of adventure, new water trails, alligators, new conversations, good and challenging light, new scenery and peace and quiet. unlike my usual local trails, we were alone, never once seeing another soul. i saw a boat once - briefly - far in the distance on the other side of fakahatchee bay, but that was it for humans or gasoline engines.

today, on our way back, navigating by gps and ingenious toilet paper eco trail markers through tight mangrove tunnels full of mystery, huge alligator waves, too many spiders, blow-down from hurricane wilma, and laughter and quiet in all the right spots, i was reminded again of galen rowell's comments about difficult light.

as we paddled along, i was asked, "what is the hardest thing you've ever tried to photograph?"

"easy answer." i said. "this kind of light right now. this dappled light in this mangrove tunnel. it is a scene i so very much want to capture - it is so uniquely beautiful! - but there are just too many stops of light for a camera. it is the hardest thing...walking - paddling - away from something you so very much want to bring home."

some photographs are just best left to the brain's cmos. galen would agree, knowing that for every one that cannot be, others are just waiting to take its place.

nikon d100, nikkor 12-24 dx @ 12mm, 1/30, f/16, circular polarizer