CalArti

The winter of 2009/10 is still quite young, and no one knows what it holds. But at this early date there is one thing I can say for sure – when it comes to snow crystal photos, it won’t be the worst winter ever.

I don’t feel like digging into my records to figure out which season exactly was the worst. I first started photographing snow crystals in 1997, and the first few years I worked on it were a real challenge – especially shooting very unforgiving color slide film. But there was one year when, even with digital cameras and a refined and predictable technique, I only managed two good shots. It’s just a question of what nature tosses your way, and if you are there to receive it.

That is part of the deal with nature photography, at least as I practice it. You take what the earth gives you. Sometimes it is generous; often not. And when not, you just get up and go back out, faithful that things will change. Whether it’s hunting for snow crystals, visiting a pine barrens, hoping to find wildflowers or dragonflies – sometimes nature is bountiful, sometimes not. And often you come home with nothing to show for the effort.

Some days I wish that it all could be easy. Maybe I could fly to places where the subjects I want to photogrpah are right there waiting. I’m sure dragonflies are on the wing somewhere. Snow crystals fall in perfection someplace else. Sometimes I feel that I lack dedication, and if I was really serious I would not just shoot photos in my little corner of the world, but rather would go where the subjects are, and really produce. It could be easy… and rewarding.

But if I have learned anything from observing nature, it is that the easy is the most unnatural. And if I have learned anything from art, it is that the product is a distraction and it is the process that is the most compelling. So while bleak winter days can be unrewarding; while a whole winter can pass and yield just two snow crystal photos; while there are days I return empty handed, again; and nights dark with doubt – ultimately it is part of the dance, part of the process, part of creation. No matter what, it’s a blessing and not to be denied just because there is nothing to show for it.

Yeah – I know – try explaining that to folks who ask “But what did you do today?” So I am happy to record in my journal – “2009/10 is not the worst winter ever wrt snow crystals.”

And so here we go – two more shots from Sunday night, embedded in this post. The session was not quite as productive as I had hoped, but there is at least another shot in the works and what the heck – did I mention that this is not the worst year ever when it comes to snow crystals?

Saturday, November 28.

Winter gave a slight feint earlier this week. It grew cold on thanksgiving and that night a bit of snow fell – enough to linger for a few hours the next morning on rooftops, cars, and piles of leaves. But it was gone soon and here we are, the next day over, and it’s back to 50 degrees.

I was impressed to see dragonflies lingering-on last weekend – will they still be around now? Do the Autumn Meadowhawks stay until it is too cold to hang on any longer, or are their days numbered by some other measure? It seems that if all the other dragonfly species come and go based on the unknown logic that whirls behind the natural world, then someday the autumn meadowhawks will also just disappear for the season, even if it never gets cold at all.

They probably will – though it will get soon cold so who can tell which from what. But after last week’s successful hunt I ventured back out to the Allegan Game Area today, specifically to the Swan Creek Levee, to see if any Meadowhawks remain. It’s almost the end of firearm deer season (it only lasts two weeks) and the woods were already less crowded, though the road back to the levee was dotted with parked vehicles and occasional parties of hunters.

At 1 PM the thermometer in my car registered 49 F. (An hour later it rose to 52, and then dropped for the rest of the day.) The November sun hung low in the sky as we pulled into the parking area. I figure that the levee area is pretty safe during hunting season – the game preserve is to the north, Swan Creek is to the west, and the area due east of the levee is often flooded (it more or less is now.) There were no dragonflies in the parking lot and none in the field next to it. I made my way down to the levee, with the low hanging southern sun glaring in my eyes. A short way past the dam a dragonfly rose up before me. A few minutes later, two more rose up and then flew out over the water…

And that was it. Three individual dragonflies, but still - three.

I wandered to the end of the levee, and walked back with the sun to my back. One skittish Meadowhawk flit form rock to rock, sometimes landing on the gravel trail. The image above is the one shot I managed to get of it before it too flew out over Swan Creek. I’m guessing, that’s it for this year.

A couple of hunters wandered down to the levee while I was shooting, rifles in hand. Lookin at their orange jumpers and jackets, I felt a bit underdressed in my greeen shirt and blue jeans, with only a faded hunter-orange stocking hat on my head. Time to head home.

On the way back I drove by the field I affectionately call the Old Farmstead to see if the logging had begun. As I mentioned in an earlier post, several of the pines had day-glo ribbons tied to them, and logging activity had begun in the field directly to the south.

Sadly, the logging has started in earnest. The small parking area that I would slip into is chewed up into a rutty, muddy mess. I’m not sure why they bothered to mow the field because it looks like the trees are being cut down and then dragged across the fields. The very sandy soil has given up the plants that clung to it, and now a good portion of the field is just a torn up sandy mess. I’ve seen similar tracts in the other fields around Allegan – swaths were there are just ruts, open sandy soil, and few plants growing. I never knew where they came from – but now I do.

Oh well – they seem to only be taking pines at this time. Hopefully the large oaks will be spared. I can’t criticize the cutting of trees in a place where they were grown to be cut, but it’s sad to see a place that I enjoyed visiting being treated so roughly. I should have spent more time at other places, so to have something to fall back on.

Next summer’s reports will be from new locales…

Update:

Stylurus over at the Urban Dragon Hunter’s blog logged a new late-date for Michigan Odonates this year - December 1st. You can read his post here - be sure to read the comments since that is where he updates on his sightings.

Several weeks ago I was wandering around eBay, looking for bargains in 120 roll film. I didn’t find any, but the search led me to look at cameras, and of course that led to trouble…

A particular type of camera really caught my fancy – antique (or classic) folding medium format rangefinders. A couple of years ago a friend gave me an old Kodak Retina-A folding rangefinder, and I really fell in love with it. The only interesting shot that I’ve managed to take with it is this one from Chicago’s Millennium Park:

The idea of packing a medium format camera that, once folded up, was only a little larger than the Retina A was just too compelling. Thanks to the Retina A I’m accustomed to zone focusing, so even working with that constraint is acceptable.

After a few weeks of searching and researching, a great camera came along on eBay – an Agfa Isolette III.

The specimen I bought looked like a beauty. The bellows looked to be pristine (turns out they aren’t) and the lens and camera overall looked very clean (which they are.) The lens focusing mechanism works perfectly.

Shortly after the Isolette arrived, I hightailed it the graveyard across the way to see how it worked. The graveyard is my honored testing ground for new cameras and lenses – the square stones give a good sense of how rectilinear the lens may be, and the rolling hills and trees give abundant opportunity to test a lens under different circumstances.

A roll of Agfa APX 400 was used for this test. The first frame was sacrificed to test the bellows – I just advanced the film, opened up the camera, and held it out in the sunlight for a while. After that I just wandered around a bit, and shot whatever seemed interesting.

Getting home, I souped the APX 400 in Rodinal 1:50. Pulling the film out of the tank, I was disappointed to see that the first frame was not blank I hoped. Despite appearances, the bellows is indeed fraught with pinhole leaks. I later examined the bellows in a dark closet with a very bright flashlight, and confirmed this myself – the leaks are pinholes, but definitely there.

Despite the light leaks, the images I took were not ruined. In fact, the ones where the film was quickly advanced shoe very little impact from the pinhole leaks. Studying these shots reveals a very sharp and contrasty 6 x 6 cm negative – which works for me.

So, the camera will have to go off to get re-bellowed. But when it’s refurbished it will be a great addition to my digital camera bag. I’ve tried carrying TLR’s with me, but they take up too much space in the camera bag. The folding rangefinder and a couple of rolls of film will fit comfortably into my digital camera bag, and it will be great to be able to switch over to MF film at any time.

Here’s one shot from the cemetery – yah, I played around with the curves to give it a bit of a solarized feel:

The day after Christmas finds me in an almost bare storefront. The 2007 Signature Gallery has come to an end, and my fellow co-op members have been diligent in moving their work out. Now it’s my turn as I start packing up the bins of matted prints and taking down the framed photos on the wall.

One of the best things about my end of year participation in both Signature and the Art Etc Art Fair is the great injection of feedback and input from people who stop, look, and (sometimes) buy prints. A few reflections on this year…

There were a lot of requests for and comments about B&W photography – I think more than in past years. Maybe it’s a backlash against the omnipresent digital color work out there. Maybe it’s just the luck of the draw with regards to the people I chatted with. Either way, it gets me more fired up to get out and shoot some B&W film. Heck, I may even go back and look at the several hundred B&W exposures I shot last summer and fall, but so far have done nothing with…

I was also happy to see Imperfect Symmetry, my snow flake book, doing well in the gallery and at Art Etc. Between the two several dozen copies of the book were bought, and it was particularly heartening to see folks who bought it coming back to get additional copies to give as gifts. I guess there is something about a book that makes you want to hold it in your hands before it seems to be compelling.

Apparently, lots of people like dragonflies and other insects! As usual, I probably over did it on the dragonfly prints, but I was happy to see the number that went out the door.

So that’s it for another year – time to get busy working on some new images!

It was ten years ago today that I first put up a photo website. Not the current domain – that wouldn’t come for another five years – but rather I used the 5 megabytes of space provided by my old webhost, netlink. The old website was www.net-link.net/~cassino – it’s long gone, but some editions of it can sometimes be found on the Internet Wayback machine.

I first picked up a camera in July, 1997, so putting up a photo website three months later was probably a bit premature. But one photo from that original site still lingers in the current site – the bee shown here. This shot was taken in October, 1997, as I pulled up the bedding plants after the first frost. The shot was taken on print film with a Pentax Pz-70, Takumar-F 70-200 zoom, and close up diopter. It would no way meet current standards or sharpness and clarity, but bees have forever since been a favorite subject, and the composition is still pleasing to my eye.

A lot has changed on the internet in ten years. This site has grown, but has not changed all that much. It’s still basic HTML - the original site was hand coded in Windows Notepad. It was later prepped in MS FrontPage and currently with Namo Webeditor. But the essential design has remained the same. The image stream is a change towards less-edited, more chronological presentation of work. In large part that’s for my own convenience – I use the website to organize my stuff, and wanted to see it more from a chronological . seasonal perspective than subject oriented. The blog is new, of course, and someday Calarti will probably take over the whole site.

Since I can’t thing of much to say about this anniversary, I consulted the Oracles – in my case the I Ching and Morgan’s Tarot. (I wonder is the spirits of these oracles hang out together in oracle world. It probably is a small world and you gotta take the neighbors your get…)

For years now, I ask only one question – “Where to now?” All the other stuff is best left unsaid, to avoid confusion.

The I Ching returned the 48th Hexagram – The Well. All lines young. Interesting figure, and it’s uncommon to have no lines changing. But considering all the lines in the figure, I realized that most describe a well that does not work, and only two describe one that is really functional. So the old book is pointing out what could be, but also noting what is. I should figure out how to get a fish to swim across the screen here…

Morgan was more to the point, as I pulled up the BOO! Card. No fear – lets have some surprises…

So much for anniversaries – I’ll think of something better to say ten years from now.

I’ve been continuing to work on elemental studies – an ongoing meta project that consists of developing graphic representations of the four elements of the ancients.

It’s a hit or miss project. Each image starts with an actual photograph – or several photos – and then undergoes extensive digital manipulation. Last week I managed to get one good ‘seed’ photo for alchemical Fire – a bit of fungus burning out of the side of a tree in the forest. After some work on that, I took a shot at Air – for this using a photo of a swiggle of light falling on the kitchen cabinets.

I’m happy with the way Fire turned out, and it can join water as being more or less finalized.. Air is interesting, but not there yet. I’m still miles away from earth. But what else is new?

Air, along with a larger copy of Fire, can be found in the Image Stream.

A few days ago I commented on observing a black and red spider, overcoming a grasshopper many times its size. Based on the size and shape of the spider, I wondered if it was a Black Widow – but I dismissed that idea because it had yellow bands in addition to red markings, and also because the red markings did not form the hourglass shape that we associate with Black Widows.

A week later I again encountered one of these shiny black spiders – this time with a dead cicada in its web. I decided it was time to identify this species.

When I turned to my field guides and attempted to identify this spider, I got a bit of a surprise. While it’s not a Black Widow, it turns out that the Black Widow has a northern cousin – know as the Northern Black Spider or Northern Black Widow Spider. In fact – there are several varieties of widow spiders, apparently with similar degrees of toxicity. On the plus side – most of the material I’ve read indicates that deaths from these spiders are very rare. Some sources put the odds of fatality at only 1%.

Bugguide.net has a nice collection of photos of the northern widow.

(For the scientifically minded – The Southern Black Widow (the only black widow I was aware of until recently) is Latrodectus mactan. The Northern Black Spider is Latrodectus various.) This site, from the US army – has a rundown of all North American widow species - http:chppm-www.apgea.army.mil/ento/FACTS/WidowSpiderJTF-Mar2006.pdf)

It was interesting to actually observe these spiders in action. I had always wondered why these spiders had such intensely strong venom, and figured that it was just an example of randomness in evolution. After all – a spider simply has to have venom strong enough to kill prey. There is no downside to having venom far more powerful than the minimum needed, so if a species happened to evolve with super-potent venom, there would be no evolutionary pressure to move towards a weaker poison. The species would continue with venom stronger than needed, simply because it works.

While one can’t draw a conclusion from just two observations – I now look at things differently. Both of these spiders were subduing relatively enormous prey. Their webs were disorganized strands of silk in the grass, but were also quite strong. Strong enough to hold a large grasshopper and cicada long enough for the potent venom to take hold.

So maybe the great toxicity of these spiders’ venom is part and parcel of a much more complicated – and very specific – survival strategy. Grab large prey and subdue it fast. It would be interesting to survey a population of these spiders in the wild, and see if they rely on large prey vs. smaller insects for food.

At any rate – I’m now pretty convinced that these spiders are common in some parts of the Allegan Forest. My two sightings were a week apart, but also several miles apart – the first one was in the site I call the coreopsis field, which is a clearing off 46th street, just about 1 mile north of 118th avenue. The second sighting was in the old farmstead, off 48th street and about a mile south of 115th avenue.

Now that I know what the webs look like – I’m quite certain that I’ve seen several in the past few months. I can think of at least two occasions where I’ve seen large insects – once a butterfly and the other a grasshopper – trapped in similar webs in the field off 48th street.

Since I first observed these spiders while lying on the ground, shooting low perching dragon flies, their presence in the fields is a little bit of a concern. While these spiders only bite as a last resort – I can easily see myself laying a bare arm on top of one while lining up a shot of a dragonfly, bee, or butterfly.

I guess I should be worried – but then the odds of getting into a car accident while driving from Kalamazoo to Allegan are probably greater than the odds of being bitten by a Northern Black Widow – and certainly higher than the odds of being fatally bitten.

At least now I know what to watch for, and if abdominal cramps and other symptoms settle in after a day’s shooting, I’ll know to get to the doctor as opposed to just waiting it out. And here again – the Allegan Forest has produced another interesting subject, and getting some good, clear shots of these spiders (unlike the ones shown here) will be a future project.

Link: http://www.markcassino.com/galleries/stream/stream08.htm

The Skink and I made eye contact simultaneously. We contemplated each other for a split second, and it spooked and ran down behind the rock on which it had been sunning itself. But it was a soft spook – a second later a curious head popped back up from behind the rock, and I took this as a cue to step back.

I was standing on the gravel trail that borders Swan Creek, in the Allegan Forest, near the small dam where the creek dumps into the Kalamazoo River. The trail is just a levee - 30 feet of dry earth separating the creek on one side from a marsh on the other. You’d think it would be a great hunting ground for dragonflies, and for a few short weeks in the spring it is. But it doesn’t offer enough food for the winged predators, and so as the season advances they move on to the nearby fields and hills.

Nonetheless, this trail is a regular stop in my visits to the Allegan Forest. It’s a pain to work it – it’s a popular party spot and broken glass is mingled in with the rough gravel dumped onto the levee – combined with an abundance of poison ivy – makes it a tough place to get down to eye level with low perching insects. But still I return – did I mention that the creek is breathtakingly beautiful here, and it’s the only spot I’ve ever seen otters in the wild?

Five minutes. When you spook a target, wait 5 minutes out of sight and then return. I stood on the trail leaning against the monopod, waiting for the clock to tick out.

When the time was up I returned to search for the skink. There it was, close to the spot where I first saw it, and it was fighting a mighty battle with a cricket almost a quarter of its size. The lizard had pulled most of the cricket’s legs off, but was till having a hard time keeping it under control. It was intent on a huge meal, so I slipped in and started photographing.

The lizard was young - the bright bands and blue tail will fade as it gets older. Or so I read in books. Truth be told, I’ve never seen a skink that didn’t have a blue tail. But while folks in southern climates may be used to seeing lizards - the skink is one of the few wild lizards found in Michigan.

At first, I was cautious. The stakes were higher – not only did I not want to lose the lizard, but I also did not want to cost it a meal. So I set up about a yard away and shot through the vegetation that was growing between the subject and the camera.

Slowly, I moved closer and lower, Any competent wildlife shot is taken at eye level with the subject. I worked the front of the lens through the vegetation, and even folded back a few of the leaves that were the most in the way. It was all stealth and slow motion – 5, 10, 15 minutes passed – and every so often I got a little closer, with a little better angle on the subject.

The lizard slipped behind a plant leaf, and delivered the coup de grace to the cricket. I knew that I had not gotten the shot, and disappointment teased at the corners of my mind – until the Skink returned. It moved slowly. Maybe it was sated by this enormous meal. Maybe it was having trouble breathing with a huge cricket pressing against its lungs. In any case, it gave me the chance to get the portrait I wanted.

I left the blue tailed skink, laying on a rock, basking in the sun. For all I know a bird could of have slipped out of the sky and gobbled it up the moment I was over the next hill. But for me, successfully photographing a subject, and leaving it unawares of the whole event, is the epitome of wildlife photography.

I’ve wanted to get an acceptable photo of a skink ever since I first saw them in the Allegan Forest three years ago. It’s not like there’s a shortage of photos of these lizards – they are much more abundant in other parts of the country (cold Michigan is at the northern edge of their range) and they are kept in captivity and can be placed in any number of poses and faux settings for photographs. But observing skinks in the wild I realized that this was one goal that would never be achieved by active pursuit – but rather could only be obtained by waiting for, or attaining, the right time and place.

With all photography – it’s not about bagging a trophy, getting control of some “thing”, or adding something to your collection. But rather – it is about the process. About walking the same ground over and over again, about being in the moment and seeing what it holds. I have trod this ground for only a few years – I hope to tread it many more, to get some slight understanding of that place.

Progressive photos of the skink shoot can be found in the Image Stream.

The seasonal road narrowed into a small two track, and that ultimately petered out. I had decided to explore new areas of the Allegan Forest, and this looked like as good a place as any to step out of the car and take a look around.

When the loggers cut the trees down, they pull the stumps out by the roots. The DNR stacks these rooty stumps up to make barriers – mostly for cars but you can’t walk or climb over them either. So when I got out of the car I walked around to the end of the barrier, and turning around I saw two large dog food bags.

At first I thought that someone had just dumped some garbage here – but then I noted that one of the bags was carefully taped shut with duct tape. The other bag looked like it had never been opened, but the seam at the end of the bag had come apart, and it looked like animals had ripped it up, getting at the food.

I gave the taped shut bag a squeeze, and felt the intact kibble still in it. I stood there, momentarily perplexed, and then an idea stole upon me. “Look for the bones….”

Turning – I saw it. The dug out grave. Dog bones laying in the sand, torn loose from the plastic in which they were carefully wrapped. The grave – maybe a foot or so deep – wasn’t enough to keep out the coyotes, foxes, or raccoons…

I can only guess at the grief of the dog owner. He had a good stock of food on hand, so no doubt expected the dog to live a good while longer. And in leaving the bags of food behind, he was committing an ancient and uniquely human act. For as long as we have walked the earth, humans have left burial offerings – part sacrifice to the unknown, part gift to the departed, to aid them in their journey forward. Whether its building a pyramid full of luxuries, or just leaving a couple of bags of dog food with a deceased pet – it’s a tradition as old as our species.

First there is a mountain then there is no mountain then there is…

Back from Grandfather Mountain. Michigan gives us a cold reception, with ‘see your breath’ temperatures and misty drizzly rain.

The Grandfather Mountain Nature Photography weekend was a great event. This was my first visit to the mountain, and I presented on macro photography techniques. I spent a lot of time tweaking, re-tweaking, and revising my presentation, and so spent a lot less time socializing and shooting. In the end the presentation seemed to go over fairly well, so I’m glad I spent that extra effort to get it just right.

The highlight of the weekend was meeting many of the folks from the Pentax Discussions Mailing List, the ultimate online forum for Pentax and K Mount related topics (and most everything else under the sun.) It’s great to put a face with the names of people you’ve ‘talked’ with, in some cases for years.

The Nature Photography weekend itself was an excellent event. Don Nelson and his Team kept things running like clockwork. Grandfather Mountain itself is a majestic location and incredibly rich environment for nature photography.

Tony Sweet made an excellent presentation showcasing his new work and giving a hint at the vision that drives his photography. Tony’s work is as new and fresh as it comes – a real inspiration to get out of the box and try new things. The most memorable quote from the weekend came from his presentation – something like “I went there with the intent of not take one ‘regular’ photo…” Great stuff.

Don McGowan presented on interpretive landscape shots, and treated the audience to many classic images. Gregory Georges brought everyone up to speed on the latest in Photoshop, Lightroom, and other tools, and Dick Ginkowski gave an excellent overview on how photographers can travel smart. Dick presented a slide show of outstanding images taken from just about every corner of the continent – demonstrating that his travel tips are based on his experience on the ground (and in the air.)

It all went way too fast and before I knew it Pam and I were on the road working our way north. We made it to Monroe, OH on Sunday, and then back to Kalamazoo late Monday.

I’m a perfectionist and probably spent too much time hunched over the laptop, working on the presentation. I had left with high hopes of shooting tons of photos on the mountain, but at the end of the day Pam and I only managed to get out on a couple of hikes. I took a lot of alternative gear – the Vivitar panoramic toy camera, the Holga, and the Kinoflex Pinhole – all of whice saw virtually no use. Well, maybe next year…

The few images I did manage to get are in the Image Stream.