Mark Cassino Photography - Mark's Blog

Yesterday brought a fine and glorious late spring afternoon – with sunny skies and temperatures in the mid 80’s. It was memorial day, and though I was tied up getting ready for a trip, I slipped away from travel preparations for a few hours to visit the McLIndon Trails – a site that I have concluded in the premier local hotspot for dragonflies.

It must be the grassy fields- this one time farm was converted to an amphibious vehicle proving grounds by the Ingersoll-Rand Corporation in WWII. It is now a community park and well field – with grassy fields (no native prairie here) and abundant ponds, wetlands, and the larger adjacent Campbell Lake.

As with last summer, the McLindon trails seems to be ramping up for more interesting dragonfly shots. This trip – the third for me of the season, produced some adequate results, but nothing outstanding. As with snow crystals or other seasonal work – it takes time to get back into the goose and in practive for shooting another season of insect shots. But the Dot Tailed White Face is a less than common find, and the Calico Meadowhawk is one of  the first of the perching dragons – like the Pennants, Meadohaws, and Dashers - of the season. Hopefully, they are signs of more good subjects to come.

The couple hours spend at McLIndon were rewarding in other ways as well. While it did not produce photographs, I observed several darners dancing up and down in flight – the seady up and down, curved swoop and climb – really made me understand the origins of the Darner moniker.

And the real surprise of the day – a Monarch butterfly ! Flying purposefully through the park. I don’t recall seeing one so early in the season, and I can only hope this is a sign of more monarchs to come.

 Spangled Skimmer:

In late May the insect photography season gets back into gear, and warm weather brings out the first opportunities for serious insect photography. I set aside most of the day Friday for what I hoped would be one of the first serious insect photography sessions of the summer. Unfortunately, the warm and dry weather of the prior week gave way as a cold front came through, an Thursday night brought a steady rain that continued into the next morning, along with markedly cooler temperatures.

The rain let up as I neared the Allegan forest, and as I headed out into the fields the skies were clearing.

My goal was to find and photograph some of the 17 year cicada that are set to emerge this summer. I had seen the cicada brook in Washington DC a few years ago, and hoped to see a similar show here in Michigan this summer.

I did not have any luck with the cicadas – perhaps they have not yet emerged, though in some fields there was a continuous drone of cricket like chirping that may have been the cicadas. Hopefully the next few weeks will bring a chance to actually see these insects. The fairly cool temperatures and gusty breezes made the day less productive than I hoped. There were lots of damselflies along swan creek, and I spotted one completely unknown insect flitting along the edge of the creek (which is actually a pretty wide lake at that point.) It was flying though a large patch of poison ivy, but I till managed to get a few shots of it (and thankfully avoided exposure to the poison ivy!)

The best shots of the day cam from along Swan Creek. Afterwards I visited several areas near the Kalamazoo River, and then back to the favorite field off 48th street. A Plains Clubtail was a new find for me, but aside from it there were few other active insects – though the spicebush and tiger swallowtails are just starting to emerge, and I spotted my first mature male white tail and mature 12 spotteed skimmers of the year.

The lupine was flourishing and seemed to be everywhere in the woods – which should make for a good brood of Karner Blues. The wild strawberries were also in bloom, and feral irises poke up at some locations. In a few weeks the coreopsis should be out in force, and the insects should be more abundant.

At last the winter seems to be truly behind us (here in the last week of May.) The waters in the local streams and ponds have finally warmed to the point were dragonflies and damselflies are out in force again, even though the trees are still not quite at the point of having their full foliage, and the plants of the field are sill stunted and short.

No matter – the spring wildflowers have come and gone, and now it’s time to move onto shooting insects. From my perspective, it’s that simple.

The K10D s one new thing this year. Pentax seems to release their new cameras in the last fall – just in time for holiday shoppers but too late for insect photographers (at least in the northern part of the northern hemisphere.) So using the K10D for insect shots is a bit of a new thing this season.

Well – just a _bit_ of a new thing. The camera is very much like my old mainstay, the *ist-d, in terms of fit and feel. Acclimating to it for insect photography has been a complete non-event – though I really appreciate the greatly enhance speed and responsiveness of the new camera. Plus, the 10 megapixel sensor does seem to squeeze out more detail in the insect close-ups.

I visited the McLInden Trails both Friday and Saturday. It’s sort of my refuge of last resort – when I have little time available but want to get out, the McLInden Trails or the Kalamazoo Nature Center are the two places I head to. They are both close and offer quick access to natural areas, where it’s possible to get some good shots.

At McLindon the dragonflies are still fairly scarce _ I managed to get one shot of a ground hugging species that I have yet to identify. Several immature common whitetails were also in the park.

The damselflies were out in greater force, and of course the ever present American Coppers were jealously guarding their territories.

Between the two trips, and maybe four hours of shooting, I only managed to get four presentable shots. Nice shots, but nothing great. But hopefully a harbinger of a good insect photography season yet to come.

As a photographer, I often go out and seek photographs. When I do this I usually have an idea of what I want in mind, and the surprise comes in how the pre-determined theme is ultimately realized.

It’s great when something unexpected creeps into the picture. And it’s even better when something completely unexpected appears, at a completely unexpected time and place.

For me, this usually happens around the house. The old familiar environment still harbors a wealth of surprises, and new things pop un in places and times least expected. That’s why I added the “Around the House” category to the blog here – just a chance to share the expected and sometimes surprising image that trips through the most familiar of places.

Today’s image is a simple one - a small jigsaw puzzle, a wand with a plastic carnation on it, and golden light from a late burning lamp.

I have nothing to say about the photo, other than it was a surprise.

Spring has arrived in force here in west Michigan, and these last several days have brought balmy weather and the re-emergence of insects. On Friday I went out to the Allegan Forest, hoping to see some early season butterflies and other insects.

It was a nice trip – I spent several hours in the coreopsis field off 46th street (though no coreopsis are there yet.) But the early spring foliage and riot of dogwood blooms in the forest was a sight to behold. Standing on the trail near Swan Creek, I heard the staccato calls of sand hill cranes, and a pair swooped down from the hill side and gracefully glided along the levee on which the trail runs, then veered off to fly over Swan Creek, landing on the far side. It was sight I’ll remember forever.

The insects were out in force – OK, mostly mosquitoes and black flies, but still they were out. The open field were full of small blue butterflies – mostly Spring Azure, but also a few Hairstreaks. The American Coppers were already out in force – I realized that one of the last insect shots I took last year was of an American Copper. These little butterflies really do stick around for the full season.

I was also pleased to see odonata for the first time this year – several damselflies along the path near Swan Creek, a few large green darners (probably migrants from the south) and a handful of medium sized brown dragonflies – which I never saw clearly, but were perhaps immature common whitetails.

The first insect shoot of the year is always a challenge. After several months without picking up the insect photography rig, late spring always finds me in a bit of re-learning mode. Holding the camera steady, tracking and stalking, re-learning the quick fine tuning of camera focus, monopod settings, and camera settings, is always an exercise.

This year I’m working with a new camera – the Pentax K10D – but it so similar to the *ist-D that I had been using, that there is virtually no new learning curve for this sort of work. However – I really delight in the huge increase in file save speed, shake reduction, and in body flash compensation.

This trip produces a handful of acceptable shots – nothing really first rate, though the bar gets higher every year. But, it’s a good start – and hopefully some new shots will be coming along shortly.

It’s been a strange year for wildflower photography here in west Michigan. Unlike last year – with its regular progression of botanical species – this year has been unruly, with fits and starts, warm spells and cold snaps.

On Friday, May 4, I headed out for what will probably be the last wildflower shoot of the season. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to spend as much time with the wildflowers this year. The hepatica is the species that has really caught my imagination, and I wish I had been able to spend more days out shooting these lovely little flowers. The other species – the spring beauty, anemone, trillium, and even the blood root and wild marigolds – seem to lack the diversity of color and form that the hepatica have. I’ll stop short of saying “shoot one and you’ve shot them all” – but to some extent that is the case.

So here’s a recap of this spring. We had a long, drawn out, cold winter (that only really got cold in mid January) with a blast of unnaturally warm weather in late March and early April. The wildlfowers burst onto the scene with abandon. Then came a prolonged cold snap – and my shots of frozen blood root and hepatica. That lasted several weeks, and really slowed the pace at which the flowers were emerging.

After the cold spell, weather patterns became more or less normal for the area. The hepatica, bloodroot, and most of the anemone were more or less wiped out in the areas where I usually shoot – but the trillium and other flowers finally emerged in force, though with only a few weeks to bloom as the forest canopy darkened the sky above.

And so on this last trip I shot trillium, jack in the pulpit, and a few stragglers of the other species. I spent 6 hours in the woods – mostly crawling around, setting up shots, moving on a short distance. I encountered one other person in that time – truly a healing time of solitude.

And a moment to savor, for sure. Because as I shot away I slowly became aware of the presence of an invader in the woods – garlic mustard. I first noticed a clump of it while setting up a shot of a trillium – and I dutifully pulled the offending weed up the roots and stuffed it in a pocket to safely remove it. But as I looked around my eye suddenly became attuned to it – and I realized that there was a garlic mustard sprig every few yards. Just one or two plants – standing a food foot taller than the native plants – preparing to spread their tens of thousands of seeds.

How long will it be before the woods is nothing but garlic mustard? Two years? Five years? I doubt that much can be done to stop it, and given its speed and tenacity, it will probably wipe out the native wildflowers in the next few years.

“Detecting endings” seems to be a common theme in these posts. I didn’t plan that – but as I spent the day among the trillium I realized that this may well be the last time I’m treated to such a sight. I figured that these ancient plants would well outlast me – but with the surprise that only an ending can deliver, that doesn’t seem to be the case.

So what do World Pinhole Photography Day and Arbor Day have in common?

Nothing, actually. But on Friday (Arbor Day) I read about World Pinhole Photography on the internet in the morning. I didn’t pay a lot of attention, and missed the fact that the announcement clearly said Sunday was the day. So I headed out, pinhole camera in hand, to get some shots of the Allegan Forest.

I was surprised to show up at one of my familiar haunts, and find a good chunk of the forest clear cut. I suppose the management is trying to restore more oak savanna, and with 50,000 acres of forest and field the tract of land that was cleared was not hugely significant, but I still found the site of the fallen trees, stacked up in the muck, to be compelling.

And so I made them the subject of the pinhole shots. Not realizing that it was Arbor Day (I discovered that later) there was a certain irony to the site of the stacked tree trunks and clear cut land.

Well, it was good practice for the actual pinhole photography day (a couple of shots to be posted soon). And I’ll have to explore a few more of those 50,000 acres, since these clear cut tracks look pretty crappy for years to follow.

A couple of weeks ago I wrote about experiments with multiple exposures with the Holga toy camera. I’ve been continuing with these experiments – “time and motion studies” – with mixed results.

My goal with these shots has been to utilize the Holga’s multiple exposure capacity to create a single image that captures an extended period of time. I’m not interested in putting together a few recognizable images, juxtaposed on top of each other. Rather, I’m interested in putting together lots of exposures (25, 50, maybe 100) with few if any individually discernable images being present. The idea is to build up an image through the successive exposure of the film to varying (and weak) light sources – so that the resulting exposure on the film is not representative of any specific image, but rather is the cumulative effect of many exposures. A “layered exposure.”

Ultimately the photograph is a temporal composition – the combined effects of light and time, as opposed to light and place.

Well – that’s the theory at least. I’ve encountered a few challenges in terms of pulling it off, but the process is still new.

The first challenge is finding the right window of ambient light to work with. Without using a neutral density filter, multiple exposures outside on a sunny day will very quickly block up even the slowest film. As a result, I’ve confined this project to twilight hours – snapping away in the mysterious gloom that separates day from night. (I suppose this project could be taken indoors – the multiple exposures would be much easier to manage in a dimly lit building or interior. But that would be limiting – it would be too tempting (or even unavoidable) to take shots of the same place.)

I tried for a few more shots in this genre last week, and the results are something of a mixed bag. “Rotary”, above, is a series of mad snaps taken while whirling around a rotary, shortly after sunset. The result is interesting, and I like the dynamic, but it really is a composite of several individual shots of streetlights, and not a layered-exposure, since so many areas of the frame are dark.