nature – Page 2 – Mary Rice's blog

September 22, 2018

Zane at 8

Last weekend we were treated to a return visit from our niece Robyn, her husband Thad, & their sons Zane (8) and Sam (4). They previously had come in April to run the 1/2 marathon and during the race, Don had taken the boys fishing. Before this visit, Robyn had texted that Zane and Sam wanted to go fishing again with Uncle Don.

So on Saturday morning, when Robyn and Thad left for a few hours to attend a teacher’s conference, Don and I (and Betsy who was home from Florence-weary South Carolina), headed to our neighborhood lake with fishing poles, crickets, and a cooler.

Now for those of you who think summer ends when school starts, think again. Today is actually the last official day of summer, and rest assured, it was a very summery day last Saturday morning in Nashville. Think sunny, humid, and 90+ degrees.

Unfortunately, early attempts at finding a fishing spot in the shade where the fish were biting failed. Exit Betsy.

“The boys” and Don were on a serious mission though and kept trying. Here you see them, a little fatigued but still determined, halfway around the lake.

No luck.

So they had no choice but to try the dam, which as you might tell from the image below, was in full sun and blazing hot.

You gotta love Uncle Don’s Huck Finn style hat and brim.

Wait, did I just say bream?

I did!

As soon as Zane could cast his line, he was reeling in the bream, one right after the other. He told us his goal was to catch eight. He didn’t say why but it was clear he wasn’t leaving, no matter what, until he had caught eight.

But wait. What about ‘lil bro Sam? Well, about the time we got to the hot dam (I’ve always wanted to use that term in the proper context) I sensed Sam had about had it, so we found a picnic table under some shade trees about 20 yards away for a different kind of fish experience.

Well, it seems Sam loves to snack (“graze”) and after two juice boxes, 1/2 bag of goldfish and a bottle of water, things were starting to look up. Sam, in fact, was smiling up at me from under the table. So I grabbed my camera but didn’t like shooting through the table so I asked him if he could come back up. He then assumed this pose:

Okay, I have to admit, I really love this photograph.

Sam and I continued to talk. I asked,

“So what was the favorite thing you did this summer?”

He answered, “swimming.”

I asked, “Do you know how to swim yet?”

He answered, “no, but Zane is teaching me.”

I said, “That’s nice. Zane is a great big brother, isn’t he?”

Sam nodded enthusiastically in agreement.

We went on to talk about Pokemon, Daniel the Tiger, and Paw Patrol.

Soon we heard Zane yell excitedly “I did it! I did it! I caught eight fish!” Sam and I went over to congratulate him.

Okay! Mission accomplished. Time to head home.

As we were walking back home, Don said he started comparing the day’s fishing to the fishing in April. When home, Don whispered to me, “Last spring, Sam caught 7 and Zane 3.”

I smiled.

DSCF1030w6 — Bragging rights: Zane & fish #8

That little smile? Priceless.

Thanks for following my blog and sharing in one of our sweet end of summer memories.

August 29, 2018

Don’s AMAZING farm photographs

Every time Don goes out to the farm he comes back with stories of things he saw or did that day. Sometimes, similar to an eight year old boy coming home with a prized turtle found in a creek, he brings home souvenirs such as deer skulls, nests, or snake skins. Recently his prized possessions have been photographs.

The common thread in Don’s images is a “wow” effect. I think if his current farmer gig were to ever end, he could perhaps get a job with Ripley’s Believe It or Not. See if you don’t agree.

So we’ll start with two of the images he got from his game or trail camera this week.

Animal #1

That’s a bobcat. In daylight. I’d be happier knowing its home was the San Diego Zoo.

Animals #2 & 3

are just deer; HOWEVER, that buck is kind of big and the interaction between the two is pretty sweet.

So now some of Don’s cell phone photos …

Scene #1

That’s grass Don’s been mowing – the kind you probably have in your yard except about five feet taller.

Animal #4

That’s about a 5-6 foot snake. So you know how this blog is named “photographs in need of explanation?” Here’s what you need to know about this snake. It fell out of Don’s four wheeler from the dash onto his legs when putting the key in the ignition. Can you even imagine? You’re in your vehicle and a snake like that falls on your legs? I get creeped out even thinking about it.

Animals #5

This is a bee swarm. I actually saw this also. It was about ten yards away from some bee hives. It’s a little hard to tell from this photo, but the swarm is about 1 1/2 feet long and 3-4 inches deep. There were several bees flying in and out when we were there. Fortunately, neither of us got stung.

So that’s the buzz for this week’s post of Don’s AMAZING farm photos. We’ve learned they make great cocktail party conversation.

Thanks for following my blog and thanks, Don, for sharing your photographs this week.

August 7, 2018August 7, 2018

in an Oregon state of mind

Don and I spent some time in Oregon in June. Neither of us had been there before. Here are some quick take aways:

it has an incredibly diverse landscape;
it seems like everyone has a dog and takes the dog(s) with them everywhere they go;
Road signs say “Speed 60” instead of “Speed Limit 60.” Why no limits in Oregon?
They don’t let you pump your own gas and gas stations often close at dusk;
Seafood, beer, wine, fish hatcheries, logging, and Les Schwab Tire Dealerships seem to dominate the landscape (btw Les Schwab did a great job patching two flat tires for us);
Oregon appeals to a lot of outdoor enthusiasts and photographers (ask Don about breakfast with the professional windsurfers sometime); and, be sure to remember this last one …
the Oregonians we met and spent time with clearly love Oregon and appreciate what they’ve got.

So what photograph(s) do I share?

Well, at this point, only two.

So because Oregon is such a dog loving state, we’ll start with “Fetch.”

“Fetch” was taken in Joseph, Oregon, in the heart of what is called Oregon’s “Little Switzerland.” The mountains in Joseph look a lot like the Grand Tetons in Wyoming. I was sitting on a boat dock when a woman nearby started throwing a ball in the lake for her yellow Lab to retrieve. I went over and started talking with her and then made friends with Kona. Good times.

This second image was taken on the Oregon coast, I think near Newport.

I like the whimsical nature of this image. Often I look up at the clouds and think about the shapes they make. The boulders in the background of this image also invite you to imagine. Is that a dragon back there? Or maybe a clone of the Loch Ness monster?

It’s never been a goal of mine to visit all 50 states but when I took a silly Facebook quiz many years ago I realized I had then been to 40+ states and so started considering it. This trip made Oregon my 48th state to visit. What’s left? North Dakota and Hawaii. Will I visit those states? I don’t know.

Sure, I like to travel, but in recent years I’ve come to realize that while it’s fun to visit new places, lasting contentment does not come from travel; it comes from appreciating wherever you presently are.

A couple nights after coming home from Oregon I did a photography session with newborn twins. As I looked around at the location the parents had chosen, it occurred to me, particularly in that golden hour of light, that the setting was as beautiful as any I had encountered in Oregon, and I was so lucky to be there, in that place, with that family, in that moment.

That state of contentment where you appreciate where you currently are – it’s the only state you really must visit.

Thanks for following my blog and joining me as I remember our time in Oregon and think like an Oregonian.

July 10, 2018July 10, 2018

Loose in the Palouse

I’m back to the blog after a ~~little~~ long road trip. This post is about how we started that road trip, after flying into Portland, Oregon, and then driving six hours across the state.

So … there’s a little patch of heaven in the southeastern corner of the state of Washington called the Palouse. Sometimes called “America’s Little Tuscany,” its pastoral rolling hills of wheat are vast and serene. It’s been on my bucket list of places to visit and photograph for years. Don and I went last month.

Before reaching the iconic fertile hills of the Palouse, we stopped in Palouse Falls State Park, a geological 180 from what I had come a long way to photograph. It has never been on my bucket list of places to visit or photograph, and we almost turned back several times before arriving.

Seriously, we had all sorts of reasons not to go — it was out of the way, we’d be late checking into our hotel, the park had closed recently due to security concerns after someone fell to their death when part of a cliff collapsed, and there were rattlesnake warnings all over the place — but I think …

it was worth it. Pretty awesome, right?

The next day was the day I’d been anxiously anticipating. Armed with maps and apps, we drove to the top of Steptoe Butte State Park, probably the most popular photography destination in the region. Here’s my photograph of what I understand to be one of the more beautiful scenic overlooks of rolling hills in America:

Fair to say, June 9, 2018, will not go down as the day I captured the beautiful expanse of the rolling hillsides of the Palouse.

Undaunted by the weather, I went ahead and made a few photographs that day:

Okay, but not what I had come to capture.

Towards the end of the day, when we were near Oakland, Washington, the sky opened up for a short while.

That wet red barn on the rolling hillside is the closest I came to what many people view as an iconic Palouse scene. Still, it’s not the abstract photography I wanted from miles and miles of overlapping hills reaching into the horizon.

What is beautiful? Is it a red barn against a green hillside? Abstracts made from hills filled with light and shadows? A waterfall into a deep canyon?

In an interview with Krista Tippett and published on http://www.onbeing.org, cellist Yo Yo Ma described beauty in this way:

It could be music. It could be a poem. It could be an event … [o]ften, in nature. But, when that encapsulated form is received, there’s a moment of reception and cognition of the thing that is, in some ways, startling … We are part of nature and we observe nature, but we’re part of the human realm, and there’s that moment, when essentially there’s a transfer of life. [I]t’s the human cognition of that vastness, the awe and the wonder, something that’s, in a way, bigger than yourself.

The Palouse is beautiful – all of it – but on this trip, the part where we felt that transfer of life into a world way bigger than ourselves, more than anywhere else, was the part we almost missed … Palouse Falls State Park. And you know what? At this point in my life, I really like that an old dry canyon with water and energy and life flowing in and through it, can on any one particular day be more beautiful than fertile fields many miles away.

Sometimes a little fog helps you see things a little more clearly.

Thanks for following my blog.

Stay tuned for the next post which will likely feature some aspect of our 2,000 mile jaunt through Oregon, where we saw whales, sea lions, elk, deer, marmots, eagles, dogs, more dogs, one cat, lots of fish, but no ducks. And they call themselves the Oregon Ducks? I’m not kidding, no ducks. Not one.

March 20, 2018March 20, 2018

To Spring

Well despite the Nor’easter, today is the first day of spring! In Nashville, we had some snow on March 12th and snow is possible again tonight, but in the interim, we’ve had several nice days, enough to share some images of Nashville’s early spring blooms. Photos were taken at Nashville’s Cheekwood Botanical Gardens.

reflections of a dad taking his family’s photographs

We’re due spring showers for most of the next ten days, but after that? I think more spring flowers.

“We loiter in winter while it is already spring.” — Henry David Thoreau

Happy spring!

December 31, 2017

RIP 2017

We did something a little different this year for Christmas. We spent Christmas at Scott’s new home in Tampa and just had a blast. We all needed a little break and the warm weather was a welcome change.

wall art in St. Pete courtesy of J&Signs

Florida palm trees

Santa Claus in Busch Gardens

In looking through the images I took in Tampa, I think there’s enough in the group to pay homage to 2017.

So here we go using Florida’s Christmas photographs to tell the tale of 2017…

_23A4923 — Busch Gardens Tampa roller coaster

I’m starting with the roller coaster photograph because that’s generally how I view 2017 – a wild ride. The year was filled with lots of ups and downs, twists and turns, and some thrills. Enough said.

orangutan at Busch Gardens in Tampa, Florida

How do I feel about 2017? Well, despite all the blessings in my life for which I am grateful, when it comes to thinking about many of the major news events of 2017, the country’s current political schism, and all who have been affected by loss or hardship as a result of one of the many 2017 natural disasters or mass killings (and the list goes on), I think I am a kindred spirit with the orangutan pictured above.

Certainly there were reasons to celebrate during 2017, like the Nashville Predators making it into the Stanley Cup Playoffs and the very cool total eclipse of the sun this summer. A special highlight for me was a photography trip to Italy. You just cannot stand in the middle of Florence and not be inspired by Renaissance masters such as Michelangelo.

So while in Tampa one afternoon during our Christmas break, I ventured to nearby St. Petersburg to tour the Salvador Dali Museum to view the work of another inspiring artist. Dali’s work is, well, surreal. The cool architecture of the building was just icing on the cake.

_23A4598 — spiral staircase in Salvador Dali Museum, St. Petersburg, Florida

I suggest you visit the Dali Museum if ever in the Tampa/St. Pete area. It contains the largest collection of Dali’s work in the United States and is well worth the visit.

Before leaving the Museum I stopped in the gift store. Hiding in one of its corners was a colorful Christmas tree which looked a lot like a children’s art project. I picked up my camera and took this in-camera abstract. I’ve always liked abstract photography and experimented with it a lot of it in 2017.

So what’s a fitting way to bid farewell to 2017? I think a quiet sunset photograph over the Gulf of Mexico, the same Gulf of Mexico that just a few months ago played host to Hurricanes Irma and Harvey.

sunsetgulf — sunset at Honeymoon Beach near Clearwater, Florida

Times do change and it’s time now to put 2017 to rest.

I hope 2018 brings peace, goodwill, good times, and well-being to all.

Happy New Year!

October 2, 2017October 3, 2017

a little cloud therapy

Oh, America. We’re living in some challenging times.

Last night, Las Vegas experienced the deadliest mass shooting in American history. Puerto Rico, hit by two hurricanes in 10 days, is in critical need. East Texas and Florida are still recovering from devastation wrought by Hurricane Irma. Unpredictable and inexperienced world leaders control nuclear weapons. Cyber security has become an oxymoron. Tempers are flaring, divisions are widening, racial tensions are rising, and statements seem to have replaced respect when it comes to observing the national anthem and receiving a gift of Dr. Seuss books.

So what’s a fitting blog post from a photographer? I’m not really sure, but I think we — all of us — need to pause, take a few deep breaths and begin the process of healing. Look for those things that unite instead of divide or incite us.

Perhaps today’s topic should simply be clouds. Innocent, fleeting, ethereal clouds. Clouds which force us to look up and be hopeful. Clouds which rekindle our childlike curiosity and wonder. Clouds which have inspired artists for centuries and recently me when attending “Thin Air,” Catherine Erb’s exhibit of clouds at the David Lusk Gallery in Nashville.

So here we go, with a little cloud therapy.

Remember as a child looking up at the sky and imagining the various white puffy cumulus clouds to be a whale or a duck or something else familiar to you? And as you grew a little older, you started discovering the rich colorful palettes of a sunrise or sunset? What about all those other times in between when you just happened to look up and notice a quiet or bold beautiful patch of clouds in the sky? How did that make you feel?

Recently I’ve been reading the poetry of Pulitzer Prize winning poet Mary Oliver. From her collection of poems titled Evidence (Beacon Press 2009), in a poem titled “To Begin With, the Sweet Grass,” she writes:

… I have become a child of the clouds, and of hope. I have become the friend of the enemy, whoever that is. I have become older and, cherishing what I have learned, I have become younger …

And from her poem titled “It Was Early:”

Sometimes I need only to stand wherever I am to be blessed.

I love that line.

Now consider this sentiment from Charles M. Schulz, the creator of the Peanuts comic strip, who introduced us to Snoopy and Lucy and Charlie Brown:

Aren’t the clouds beautiful? I could lie here all day, and watch them drift by.

Me too.

But I can’t, and chances are you can’t, but we can perhaps now, just for a little while.

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Feel a little better?

I think when we look up and see eye-catching or beautiful clouds in the sky, we should make the most of that moment. After all, the sky will never have looked quite that way in the past nor will it ever look quite that way in the future. It’s the present — both “the now” and a gift — which we then hold. And I think wherever we stand (or whatever we stand for), we should consider that moment not only a gift, but as Mary Oliver says, a blessing.

Thanks for blessing me with your presence today. I’m looking forward to a busy but beautiful month of pleasing fall color.

September 13, 2017September 14, 2017

when that inner voice might just be a “Godwink”

Let’s be clear. I am neither a bird watcher nor a bird photographer but …

In December 2015 I went with the American Nature Photography Workshops to Bosque Del Apache National Wildlife Refuge in New Mexico to photograph the annual winter migration of sandhill cranes, snow geese, and other water fowl.

I got some nice photographs from the workshop

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yet my general takeaway was that this kind of bird photography, at least with the equipment I brought, is kind of difficult. Aside from the technical challenges of shooting flying birds very far away in low light, it’s not like you can say, “hey birds, would you mind separating a bit more in your flight so you don’t overlap with one another?” You just have to take what you get and hope for the best.

I stayed in the area an extra day after the workshop ended and returned to Bosque the next afternoon to photograph a cool tree we had driven by. That tree just happened to be close to a bird viewing platform.

Our workshop leaders had done an excellent job in scouting the birds’ favorite places and behaviors before we arrived. It’s just that the birds didn’t always cooperate. I remember standing in the dark one very early morning waiting to capture the epic lift off and landing at sunrise. We knew exactly when and where the takeoff should occur and we were ready, but I don’t know … we saw a lot of birds flying far in the distance in front of us, but the whole thing just didn’t really materialize, at least not in my camera.

So on my extra day, I photographed the cool tree and then drove to the viewing platform we had never visited and that’s when everything became a little more memorable.

I could hear the birds in the distance and as they got closer and louder I began seeing their approach. It wasn’t long before I realized OMG – this is the lift off and landing our leaders had wanted us to see – and they are landing – swarms of them – directly in front of me. It was like nothing I’ve ever seen or likely will ever see again. Think 1,000+ birds – many of them 5′ tall and with a 4-6′ wingspan in diameter – all swarming down to the water directly in front of you. It was loud, chaotic, and lasted for maybe 15-20 minutes or so. I didn’t really feel I was in harm’s way as the viewing platform was pretty well protected, but I did feel a little bit like I had crossed the set of Alfred Hitchcock’s The Birds into Steven Spielberg’s Jurassic Park.

With the low light and all the flurry of the backlit birds flying in I decided to take some video – that way I also would be able to record the cacophony of loud bird sounds. I also just stood for minutes at a time and marveled.

As the sun began to set and the birds began to settle in for the evening, I started photographing again. You can maybe get a sense of the serenity that replaced the previous chaos by looking at the top photo above. Really, the quiet beauty and serenity before me then was just as or maybe more powerful than the chaotic, frenzied landings that had preceded it. The whole thing was just extraordinary.

So in these past two weeks we’ve seen Harvey flood Houston and eastern Texas, an earthquake destroy parts of Mexico, wildfires spread through the Pacific Northwest, and Hurricane Irma level the Florida Keys, flood many other areas, and leave millions without power. Against this backdrop, we learned that Equifax has been hacked leaving millions of Americans a good bit more vulnerable and, on a personal note, the hard drive on my computer crashed. In a big way. With unrecoverable data.

Not the best of times.

You know what though? Some inner voice or perhaps a “Godwink” (defined by Squire Rushnell as a “a message of reassurance from God” www.whengodwinks.com) kept pulling me back last week to the serene sunset photo of the sandhill cranes above. So I’d see some heart-wrenching pictures from Harvey and then for some reason, maybe later that day, I’d find myself pulling up the sandhill cranes photograph and feeling a little better. It brought anxious me back down a notch or two.

After viewing the photo from time to time for a few days, I think the larger message of the Bosque sandhill cranes experience finally sunk in. The sunset photo wasn’t just to calm me, it was to help me understand the bigger picture of these past two weeks, that being:

there will always be natural forces much bigger than any of us;
despite our best efforts, we cannot control them or even accurately predict what will happen;
there are patterns of behavior in nature — sandhill crane migrations and hurricane seasons – that will come and go;
accept this fact and stop worrying – God is in control;
there is typically a beautiful moment that follows chaos and uncertainty — a gorgeous sunset or people coming together to help others in need; and
God is always there to guide and comfort us, maybe even sending a “Godwink” along the way.

I’m glad I had the opportunity to go to Bosque Del Apache. Thanks for letting me share this bit of self-reflection with you.

August 26, 2017

Happy 101st birthday to the National Park Service!

It’s possible Don and I are National Park Service (NPS) junkies. We’ve spent a lot of time visiting national parks.

I used to think it was Don’s endearing Clark Griswold-ish dad qualities that landed us summer after summer in a national park. For example … after Scott’s college graduation in 2015, do you know what we did? A 4,320 mile road trip to visit six national parks. Not kidding. With a teenager and a Millennial in the car. I still remember the kids and me trying to persuade Don before leaving that maybe you’ve planned too much this time, dear. But Don persisted, and we did it, and we loved it. Since then I’ve taken several trips on my own (you can draw your own conclusions on that), and now I’ve grown to realize it’s not just Don who loves the parks. We both do.

So let’s take a look at a sampling of park offerings.

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These photographs were taken in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park in Tennessee. The Smokies are the most visited national park. Last fall wildfires swept through and claimed 14 lives and more than 26 square miles. The good news? The sites you see above were not affected and the park is still thriving. This is a great place to take your family.

Next …

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These photographs were taken at White Sands National Monument in New Mexico. The NPS website describes White Sands as “like no place on earth.” I went with a photography group. The temperatures can be extreme and it’s easy to get lost. You can take your family, but if you’re going for photography, expect to hike pretty far in. People and animals leave footprints and trails everywhere.

If I had more time and/or a quicker system to retrieve archived photographs, I’d show you Arlington Cemetery or Ellis Island or the Martin Luther King, Jr. Memorial to make the point that the NPS not only oversees parks with great natural beauty, but also man-made sites that honor and preserve America’s cultural heritage. You want to experience something so moving you’ll never forget? Visit Arlington Cemetery on a day when a horse-drawn carriage brings in a fallen soldier to rest. Oh the power of quiet, respect, dignity, and grace …

Well, with the NPS celebrating its 101st birthday this week, it’s a good time to review some quick fun facts:

Did you know there’s a national park in every state?
and if you’re aged 62 or over, the cost of the lifetime senior pass increases from $10 to $80 tomorrow?
and 4th graders receive free admittance?
and so do current members of the military and their dependents?

So many opportunities!

I hope you can visit one of the parks this year. I’ll be the first to admit that food and lodging can sometimes be challenging, but it’s only a temporary challenge. The memories you come home with will last a lifetime.

For more information, please visit https://www.nps.gov.

August 19, 2017

Will Photography Eclipse Your One Time Viewing Experience?

There’s a great line in the movie The Secret Life of Walter Mitty when Mitty (played by Ben Stiller) has caught up with Sean O’Connell, acting the part of a highly regarded Life Magazine photographer who finally has a clean shot of the elusive leopard he’s been chasing. Although the “ghost cat” is in full view and O’Connell is “camera ready,” he fails to take its picture. Mitty sees the leopard and O’Connell’s inaction and finally turns to him and asks impatiently, “When are you going to take it?” O’Connell answers calmly, “Sometimes I don’t. If I like a moment, for me, personally, I don’t like to have the distraction of the camera.”

So Nashville is on the arc of the eclipse and it seems everyone under the sun (no pun intended) is flocking here to view the eclipse on Monday. Along with that has come inflated prices on airfare and hotel rooms, a healthy supply of eclipse T-shirts, a shrinking supply of the special ISO marked viewing glasses, and hundreds of tutorials on how to safely view and photograph the eclipse.

But just as O’Connell’s character chose not to photograph his prized “ghost cat,” I’m not planning to photograph the eclipse. I mean – it’s only going to happen once in my lifetime. Do I want “the distraction of the camera” (and in this case also the tripod, cable release and flashlight) or should I instead “sit back and experience the moment?” I think the latter.

I learned the “experience the moment” lesson the hard way several years ago when my daughter was taking dance. When she joined her studio’s competitive dance team, I photographed her performances regularly. Then one day, her dance teacher met me in the back dressing room after a competition had ended and with tremendous excitement exuding from every part of her being she asked, “did you see her jump, did you see that split jump?” I looked blankly back at her and couldn’t honestly answer. Apparently I hadn’t, at least not as she had, because I was too busy shooting. So I looked back through my images to see if I had captured it. I had, but I also then realized that in getting the photograph, I had missed the much more meaningful proud parent moment – you know, the kind that takes your breath away as you watch it unfold. And while I could always look back at my photograph, I could never get that moment back again.

I continued to take dance photographs after that competition, but more and more I came to rely on a friend to take the pictures. Hers were great, there was no need for us both to be shooting the exact same thing at the same time, and it allowed me to enjoy the thrill of my daughter dancing and then share that excitement with her right after the performance, much as her teacher had done with me that day.

This eclipse on Monday … is it more important to you to photograph it and own a version of one of the many duplicative photographs we’ll see posted all over social media in the days following or are you willing to pause and let the moment take your breath away?

You know, you can make a decent facsimile of the eclipse in Photoshop like I did above in only a couple of minutes … and if the actual eclipse doesn’t look exactly like it does above, I bet I can tweak my facsimile pretty quickly to make it mirror the photographs.

This past week was a little stormy so the thought of a calm day with a wondrous view in the sky will be a refreshing and welcome change. Here’s hoping for clear skies on Monday, for those of us viewing the eclipse and for everyone in the world really.