approaching storms at dawn
bonita beach, florida
february 26, 2006

"the grand show is eternal. it is always sunrise somewhere; the dew is never dried all at once; a shower is forever falling; vapor is ever rising. eternal sunrise, eternal dawn and gloaming, on sea and continents and islands, each in its turn, as the round earth rolls. "
     --john muir

the beach is quiet before sunrise, even on a sunday ripe for walkers in the last hour of clear weather before an approaching front brings rain.

soft cyan in the pre-dawn sky fell down against the front line as it began to glow. i watched the early twinges of color bloom from the dock in the dark. a few minutes later i was on the beach, freshening wind in my hair, fascinated by colors that would fade as quickly as they flushed.

weather patterns collide. the drama is mesmerizing.

nikon d100, nikkor 24-120vr @ 24mm, 1/15, f/18

take off
barefoot beach, florida
february 23, 2006

"i have no special talents. i am only passionately curious."
     --albert einstein

it was a day of glorious light.

i watched it through the doorway of my office. i watched it toy with the leaves and petals in my garden, playing tag with the afternoon sea breeze. it sent wisps of temptation through the open door that curled around my willpower in a fierce hold. i finally succumbed at 17:30 and flew to the beach. it was apparently affecting everyone - the beach near the boardwalk was crowded with bodies and the smell of cigarette smoke and sun tan lotion. it is high season in florida.

near the pass, pelicans fished the nearshore trench as the sun sank. the air was heavy with salt and palpable humidity and the last bit of perfect light. as i turned back, colors flushed brilliance and slowly died. it always moves me deep inside, in that place where the thrilling things live...this ending of the day.

light inspires everything.

nikon d100, nikkor 24-120vr @ 85mm, 1/80, f/20

nesting
estero bay, florida
february 19, 2006

"photography to the amateur is recreation, to the professional it is work, and hard work too, no matter how pleasurable it may be."
     --edward weston

i launched the green kayak at daybreak, as the sun's ascent was spreading early tule fog over the water. it has been far too long since i've felt those first wonderful, deep strokes through the water. i'd fallen asleep last night, thinking of birds in the mangroves and quiet water. i was not disappointed.

tiny blue herons and a lone juvenile night heron were lining the edges of the auger hole as I following the last remnants of the falling tide down its corkscrew channel. just enough current to make paddling easy and focusing challenging. three-quarters of the way to the bay, in a tangle of mangrove legs, i heard a loud splash. expecting a bird or mullet, i turned away from the night heron's sleepy-model stance just in time to see a four-foot manatee - just a baby - swim past in the shallow water. surely a sign of a wonderful day.

and so it was. i spent nearly an hour paddling laps around my favorite rookery island, listening to the racket of hatchlings, fighting the small chop and the strong sun. hundreds of birds filled this tiny mangrove key: pelicans, cormorants, egrets, three kinds of herons, a kingfisher and one lone vulture. the hierarchy up the branches seemed to follow the same order, pelicans on the bottom, herons atop building grandiose nests with branches that their mates would present to them with dramatic wing flapping. I was riveted by their dances of sharing and mating - and had to consciously remember to press the shutter. it was something beautiful to watch.

and then i was off, further north, past the shallows where i found the sea turtle skeleton a few years ago, and up to new pass, where the frenzy of mid-morning power boaters and jet skis was overwhelming. i followed one flock of black skimmers around, pathetic competition for their aerial sprinting. and then back south away from the furor of sunday boaters, into the afternoon sun. music as i paddled. dolphins followed me home, feeding in the shallows.

this fine day.

nikon d100, nikkor 80-400vr, 1/400, f/13 and a whole lot of boat maneuvering

red hibiscus
my front door, florida
february 18, 2006

"color is like cooking. the cook puts in more or less salt, that's the difference! "
     --josef albers

red.

red is a color at the lowest frequencies of light discernible by the human eye. red light has a wavelength range of roughly 630-760 nm. lower frequencies are called infrared, or far red. infrared radiation is used for healing purposes due to its warming and pleasant effect.

red is supposedly the first color percieved by man. brain-injured persons suffering from temporary color-blindness start to perceive red before they are able to discern any other colors.

the general effect of red is stimulating and appetizing. mere perception of red color enhances the human metabolism by 13 %. it is the favorite color of children.

red is an additive primary color, complementary to cyan. it was once considered to be a subtractive primary color, and is still sometimes described as such in non-scientific literature; however, the colors cyan, magenta and yellow are now known to be closer to the true subtractive primary colors detected by the eye, and are used in modern color printing.

red is an emotional color; it is the color of love, the color of anger, the color of blood. red is a color sure to attract attention. red signs warn of danger, red lights signal you to stop. it is a color with a voice. it speaks of exotic flamboyance, royalty, crusades, magic and deep fervor.

and it is the color of attraction: red flowers attract bees, butterflies and wandering photographers, enchanted by its bold brilliance.

nikon d100, nikkor 60mm micro, 1/160, f/10, sb800 flash

standing my ground
barefoot beach, florida
february 17, 2006

"i never lived with balance
though i’ve always liked the notion
i feel an endless hunger
for energy and motion"
     --bruce cockburn, "open"  from  you've never seen everything

birds on the beach at sunset: gulls, terns, sanderlings, willets, pelicans...and one lone black skimmer. they mingle in apricot air fringed with cyan reflections.

other beachwalkers pass them without a glance tonight. they don't see the lone skimmer standing outnumbered at the edge of the group, head tucked into wings, keeping a watchful eye on the rest of the group. they don't notice the willets who blend into miniscule dunes just off the waterline. and they completely miss the dance of the two birds in this photograph who vie for tiny mollusks as the waves retreat.

i walk along, glad for eyes wide open.

nikon d100, nikkor 80-400 vr @ 210mm, 1/200, f/9

royal down
february 14, 2006
barefoot beach, florida

"a man's work is nothing but this slow trek to rediscover, through the detours of art, those two or three great and simple images in whose presence his heart first opened."
     --albert camus

a royal tern resting its beak in the small bit of warmth found in the late day sun along the beach. valentine's day 2006 will likely become the record for coldest temperatures in several years. looking west - out across the gulf of mexico at sunset. pink, orange, red in the sky after sunset. nature delivers its own valentine.

so what of this day of love and big red hearts and too much chocolate? a little tradition and trivia:

some people used to believe that if a woman saw a robin flying overhead on valentine's day, it meant she would marry a sailor. if she saw a sparrow, she would marry a poor man and be very happy. if she saw a goldfinch, she would marry a millionaire. (if she saw a tern, she'd go home and write about what other birds might bring her.)

in the middle ages, young men and women drew names from a bowl to see who their valentines would be. they would wear these names on their sleeves for one week. to wear your heart on your sleeve now means that it is easy for other people to know how you are feeling.

in wales wooden love spoons were carved and given as gifts on february 14th. hearts, keys and keyholes were favourite decorations on the spoons. the decoration meant, "you unlock my heart!"

the heart is the most common symbol of romantic love. ancient cultures believed the human soul lived in the heart. others thought it to be the source of emotion and intelligence. some believed the heart embodied a man's truth, strength and nobility. the heart may be associated with love because the ancient greeks believed it was the target of eros, known as cupid to the romans. Anyone shot in the heart by one of cupid's arrows would fall hopelessly in love. because the heart is so closely linked to love, it's red colour is thought to be the most romantic.

in the 17th century, a hopeful maiden ate a hard-boiled egg and pinned five bay leaves to her pillow before going to sleep on valentine's eve. it was believed this would make her dream of her future husband.

the world record for most people kissing at the same time and same place (building) was set in sarnia, ontario on valentine's day in 1999. the number of people was around 1600+.

15% of u.s. women send themselves flowers on valentine's day.

85% of all valentines are purchased by women.

"te amo"

nikon d100, nikkor 80-400 vr @ 400mm, 1/500, f/7.1

perserve your memories
february 7, 2006
barefoot beach, florida

"time it was, and what a time it was, it was
a time of innocence
a time of confidences
long ago, it must be
i have a photograph
preserve your memories
they're all that's left you."
     --simon and garfunkel, "bookends"

just daring shorebirds and my own two feet forty-five minutes after sundown on the beach. tiny sanderlings never stop moving, chasing waves off the beach only to be chased back in. the larger shorebirds are more like me: they stand and watch the colors change on the western horizon and seem just as pleased.

i recently read an article about seabirds and coastal shorebirds who actually have runny noses.

because of their feeding habits, these birds have to cope with some severe environmental health hazards. large doses of salt from the sea water they absorb while feeding should be poisonous, leading to dehydration and kidney problems. but it isn't.

the excess salt is disposed of by special salt-processing glands in the head, which then discharge a highly concentrated salt solution into the nostrils. from there, it drips back into the sea, which gives them a runny, salty nose.

an amazing example of adaptation, these heady little internal desalinization plants which allow them to extract fresh water from the sea water.

i think about all of this as i wander back up the beach in the growing darkness. adaptations. the mysteries of nature. colors and light. memories preserved.

nikon d100, nikkor 24-120 vr @ 48mm, 1/3, f/18

storms blow by
february 4, 2006
bonita shores, florida

"clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky."
     --rabindranath tagore

february arrived on stormy wings. angry red bands dominated the radar and swept across the sw florida peninsula in relentless waves. rains fell ten inches deep in some nearby areas.

late afternoon brought clearing skies and falling temperatures. as the skies opened to the west, i wandered to the dock in my fleece jacket, shivering in bare feet, waiting for the sunset to illuminate the last streaks of clouds overhead. i was not disappointed.

it was over in mere minutes. the sun literally fell into the western horizon with a splash that lit the sky with brief but intense flames.

it is always breathtaking, light like this. it is always a struggle to stay focused on taking the photograph in the midst of such saturated drama. and it never fails to remind me of the northern lights i would watch on sub-zero nights in alaska.

storms always bring sweet light when they depart.

nikon d100, nikkor 24-120 vr @ 24mm, 1/3, f/18