The Ant In The Bloom

The Ant In The Bloom
(Common Purslane)
July 2010

"If ants are such busy workers, how come they find time to go to all the picnics?"
--Marie Dressler

Weed, super fuel vegetable, medicinal plant, soil enhancer or pretty bloom? Purslane (also called pigweed or little hogweed) is a succulent in the Portulaca family that wears many hats.

It's history dates back to the 7th Century BC. Pliny the Elder, a Roman author, naturalist, and natural philosopher, as well as naval and army commander of the early Roman Empire, and personal friend of the emperor Vespasian, considered it to have such healing powers that he advised wearing it to ward off all evils.

Though often considered an invasive weed in North America, purslane is an edible plant and has more omega-3 fatty acids than any other vegetable. It's also rich in antioxidants. As a spreading ground cover, it provides moisture and nutrition for soil. Factor in that it's very easy to grow and its blooms are lushly beautiful, and I can't imagine why I don't see it grown more in my area.

In my yard, my purslane is in large pots that line the patio. Dripping magentas, oranges, and yellows, it cascades down over the sides of the pots in waterfalls of saturated and succulent color. On this morning, I couldn't resist visiting the microcosm of life tucked in the petals of its blooms.

Macro photography is often filled with unexpected treasures. It really requires only a few elements, so if you are inclined, grab your camera and try - even with a little compact camera will do it (all of which have macro settings!). Just be sure you mount your camera on a tripod. Getting in close means you have to hold very still and that means a tripod is essential.

Before you start snapping, take some time to explore your landscape. Look for little creatures climbing the valleys and ridges of blooms, watch how the light reflects off the lips of petals and lose yourself in the anatomy of a plant.

And don't forget to let the creative side of your brain lead the way. Imagine. Play. Think less about the camera and more about what you "see". Just "be".

After all, and as they say, it's probably why we're called human-beings rather than human-doings.

Nikon D2x, Nikkor 60mm micro lens, a lazy morning

In A Lightning Instant

Storms Over The Everglades
Big Cypress, Florida

"The creative act lasts but a brief moment, a lightning instant of give-and-take, just long enough for you to level the camera and to trap the fleeting prey in your little box. "
--Henri Cartier-Bresson

Summer has arrived, and with it comes the birthing season of storms. The Everglades, that vast ocean of amazing vistas, becomes the maternity ward for our afternoon storms.

I love to drive out into its deceptive emptiness late in the day when the evaporative tension builds into oppressive heat and air so full of water it rolls down your face in rivers. Swamp lilies push up through the wet muck in wild flotillas, dotting everything in view with bold splashes of white. Then the wind kicks up in step with the bloom - the boom! - of black clouds. And there it is - that first cacophony of thunder rolling over the sawgrass, echoing off distant hammocks.

You can feel the fury, that huge rush of fury from across the swamp, standing miles away trying to capture your first exposure of lightning. It's exhilarating beyond description; so many senses triggering at once, there's barely time to squeeze the shutter.

Some nights don't need photographs to imprint the magic.

Nikon D2x, Nikkor 18-200 VR, wild skies and two willing compadres/storm chasers

Treasures Found

Snowy Egret
Wiggins Pass, Florida

You only get one sunrise and one sunset a day, and you only get so many days on the planet. A good photographer does the math and doesn't waste either.
- Galen Rowell

In the early hours of this day, while the air is warm and damp and quiet, I gently ease the yellow and white kayak into the water off the end of the dock, then slide it up to the step-off where I slip in, fasten the spray skirt around me, adjust the waterproof camera box one last time, and release the paddle from it's bungie.

The first forward stroke always feels like dipping my paddle into clouds, and this morning is no different. It is the confluence of grace and smooth water and floating and happiness. It is my time - this early hour - and I'm headed off to find treasures.

And I do. The 5 mile paddle to Wiggins Pass is quiet and solitary, save for the birds - egrets, herons, ibises - that line the channels through the mangroves like a gauntlet. The bait fish of summer are in, and they swarm like locusts just under the surface of this warm, green-blue water. The sun climbs above the trees and everything becomes sweeter as light paints this new day in dazzlingly saturated color. I get to the Pass and even ordinarily cantankerous snowy egrets pose happily against a canvas of breathtaking cyan.

Today is irresistibly beautiful. The Gulf of Mexico stretches out before me in pristine turquoise calm as far as I can see. I make my photos. I bless the birds, and I bless the winds and currents that keep the oil away.

Today is a gift, and that, my friends, is the treasure found.

Nikon D2x, Nikkor 80-400mm VR, one twitchy snowy egret, infinity beyond.

Morning in the Garden

Gulf Fritillary on Jatropha Integerrima
June 2010

"How does one become a butterfly?” she asked. ”You must want to fly so much that you are willing to give up being a caterpillar.”
--Trina Paulus

I spent the holiday weekend doing two of my favorite things: paddling and gardening. The jatropha and firebush are flush with the color of fire in my yard. This morning, before I'd even finished my coffee, I wandered among my shoulder-high blooming shrubs chasing butterflies. What a way to start the day!

Zebra Longwings, Sulphurs and these two Gulf Fritillaries fluttered between the bushes, lighting long enough for a shot or two, then taking off to the next blossom. It was dizzying to watch them, much less let alone photograph them. I kept moving from spot to spot, intent on the pursuit. Bees joined the swarm as the sunlight warmed the air, their legs laden with pollen. Around and around we went, butterflies, bees, human and an ancient old cat, doing circles around the garden.

The Longwings and Sulphurs proved most elusive. Such is the way of it, I suppose. I've many shots of Gulf Fritillaries in my collection; the others, not so much. And I wanted them! Oh, how I wanted them, but it was not to be. My cat and I eventually gave up the chase and headed indoors to cooler air.

After all...tomorrow is another day.

Nikon D2x, 80-400mm VR, pretty early morning light

Fly High, Free Bird

Florida Bald Eagle
Wiggins Pass, Florida

Great Blue Heron
Estero Bay, Florida

Great White Egret
Big Cypress National Preserve, Florida

Royal Tern
Wiggins Pass, Florida

Black Skimmer
Wiggins Pass, Florida

"And this bird you'll never change...Won't you fly high, free bird."
-- Lynyrd Skynyrd - Freebird

“You cannot prevent the birds of sorrow from flying over your head, but you can prevent them from building nests in your hair.”
Chinese Proverb

Nikon D2x, Nikkor 80-400VR, three cups of practice panning, one tablespoon of good light, two pinches of patience, ten cups of luck.

A Season For All Things

Black Swallowtail Butterfly & Wild Iris
Audubon Corkscrew Swamp Sanctuary
April 2010

"Nature gives to every time and season some beauties of its own; and from morning to night, as from the cradle to the grave, it is but a succession of changes so gentle and easy that we can scarcely mark their progress."
--Charles Dickens

I love the way seasons and weather have a private dance they do; forever changing, always interesting, unpredictable and new. Much like our own lives, change is often the only constant.

It was an unusually wet and cold winter and spring where I live. I marveled at the high water levels at Corkscrew Swamp recently. This is usually fire season in Florida, and the swamp is often dry and brittle. Not this year. I watched a fawn, new spots glowing like soft dots on its amber back, splash through knee-deep water and pass under the boardwalk, nibbling new leaves just an arm's length away.

And then, a few curves of the boardwalk later, wild irises blooming with great abandon! This black swallowtail flitted along their deep blue/purple blooms in the dappled sunlight, finally lighting long enough for a few shots. What a pose! What a gift.

Black swallowtail butterflies seem a perfect match for irises. Those blue tail spots are a sweet complement to the sky hues of the wild irises. And yet, this butterfly much perfers dill and fennel and tops of carrots. As a caterpillar, it has a defense gland right behind its head, called an "osmeterium". The caterpillar ingests oils from carrots, dill, parsley and fennel, and then emits a strong odor through the osmeterium which repels predators.

Male adult butterflies have a broader swath of yellow than females, so I suspect this is a male. Gorgeous and graceful, it seems Oklahoma loves them as much as I do, having made them the state butterfly in 1996.

Back in Florida, Corkscrew Swamp is a critical nesting habitat to wood storks, the only stork in North America. Because of this year's high water, not a single mated pair have nested there this season. Wading birds were largely absent this spring and on my walk, finding food in other areas with less water. I'd hoped to show them off to a friend visiting from Alaska, but all we saw was one little blue heron, wading through thick aquatic plants in Lettuce Lake.

And yet, high water brings other gifts: fawns and butterflies and irises - and even ghost orchids blooming in March, a very rare event, indeed! Even when what you wish for is not what you get, there is often something lovely and amazing in its place, if we just turn around and look.

Turn, turn, turn. For everything, there is a season.

Nikon D2x, Nikkor 80-400VR

Spring Crush

Least Terns
Wiggins Pass, Florida
April 2010

"It's spring fever. That is what the name of it is. And when you've got it, you want - oh, you don't quite know what it is you do want, but it just fairly makes your heart ache, you want it so!"
~Mark Twain

I cannot tell a lie: I am infatuated with least terns.

Each spring, these completely comical and beautiful little aviators congregate along beaches here to mate, nest and raise their young. I've been eagerly awaiting their arrival this year. Nothing like the heady rush of a spring crush to break the winter blahs. One set of (snow)birds departs and another arrives.

So just how do I love them? I'll count the ways.

I love their aerodynamic skill. They sail effortlessly through the air at break-neck speeds, then plunge head-first into the water to spear fish. It's amazing to watch. And as I've mentioned in previous blogs, they're mighty bombardiers. Mated pairs swoop down with pinpoint precision and let fly payloads of acidic excrement into the eyes of any creature who threatens their nests.

And it probably goes without saying, but their hip bandito plumage is tres cool.

But for me, it's their quirky personalities coupled with their tiny squeaks I love the most. Most small shorebirds "peep" (which is why they're called the all-encompassing descriptive, "Peeps"). But not these guys. They have cheerfully chirpy squeaks that make you smile wide and happy.

Ah, spring. The sun is warm. The air is sweet. The water is clear and turquoise. And the cutest tiny terns in the world are mating out my back door.

Life is grand and love is in the air.

Nikon D2x, Nikkor 80-400mm VR, a rising tide and quiet morning in the kayak