Mark Cassino Photography - Mark's Blog

A Treefrog encountered in a field in the Allegan Forest:

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.

Here is the full sequence of photos of the Skink -

Monday was the first day of the rest of my life. Yes – really. Or at least another new chapter. Unlike most Mondays for the past year, when I’ve roared down the highway and headed into a day job, this Monday brought not obligations, save the prime directive to seek out and explore new images. Yes – the day job has wound down – I always has a little time built into the schedule for photography – but now the days are wide open, to be used as best as I can…

So I spent the day searching out new areas for different photo projects, and then late in the afternoon wound up at the old farmstead in the Allegan Forest . The weather has been wet for a while now, and I was delighted to see a resurgence of dragonflies in the fields. They were almost exclusively Ruby Meadowhawks, but a few White Faced Meadowhawks made the scene, and green darners lumbered in the air above.

Overall, it was a very productive day – 18 dragonfly photos made the cut (and the standard keeps getting higher) and one shot of a huge robberfly was also interesting. That was on top of the 4 rolls of 120 film shot in the 6x7. (Another goal for this sojurn is to re-learn how to see in black and white, and get back into film development.)

Most of the ruby meadowhawks were shot by the seasonal marsh I’ve mentioned before. On this day I ventured back into the marsh, walking on a mat of dried vegetation that held me up over the muck below. Whenever I dropped to my knees to get a shot of one of the ruby meadowhawks, I came up with knees soaking wet with clear water.

I wanted to see the heart of the marsh. I visited it last summer, when things were actually much drier. It’s a small, deep, mucky reserve – the only place where cattails and Lilly pads grow, though last summer those were all dried up and dormant by the end of July.

Back in the heart of the marsh there was a small pool of water. It was really just muck, but in places an inch or two of water floated up above the muck. The ground was pitted with deer hoof prints. There are many small sources of water (in addition to the big sources of water) in the Allegan Forest. I suppose this small area within the marsh is a resource for deer who don’t want to trek to one of the larger water sources.

I was tempted to trek through the shoulder high grasses in the marsh – but instead decided to retrace my steps. Along the way I saw mating red faced meadowhawks (photographed, not presented.) I also saw a couple of female blue elfins, but no males.qq The male ruby meadowhawks must be feeling pretty frustrated. Back up by the parking area I spotted one or two female ruby meadowhawks, but only a couple compared to dozens and dozens of males. Well, maybe the ladies were retiring and had withdrawn to some secluded place…

More Photos: 

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.

Last week I wrote at the apex of a drought that has been gripping southwestern Michigan. This week the situation is greatly improved. Over the last week Kalamazoo saw close to 2 inches of rain – cutting by a third our shortage for the season.

Along with the rain came hot temperatures and high humidity. On Friday I again headed out to the Allegan Forest – the dragonflies who had been laying low were again out in abundance, as were spicebush, red spotted purples, and tiger swallowtails.

I spent most of the day out at the old farmstead off 48th street. The marsh at the south end is not wet with standing water – but it is back to being mucky and no doubt wet-water wet in the center. The red dragons are out in great abundance. I saw a couple of blue dashers (got no shots of them) and a small, as yet unidentified subject that looked a lot like a half sized immature Halloween pennant. But the pennants are fading as summer marches on. The red dragons – premature when they first appeared – are better suited to the season with each passing day.

More photos from the day:

The drought has been continuing in southwest Michigan – though last night’s half inch of rain was a small relief. This past week temperatures in the mid 90’s F have only served to make the drought more acute.

On Friday I visited the Allegan Forest, looking for mid season dragonflies and opportunities for some landscape photographs. It must have been the oppressive heat, or perhaps the dusty dry soil, but there was nary a dragonfly or other insect to be found. For the first time in months I didn’t both with insect repellant, and not even a mosquito was to be found.

I decided to concentrate on shooting some digital infrared work. I’m seriously considering getting a dedicated digital IR camera – which unfortunately would mean moving away from using a Pentax since no one seems to do digital conversions of Pentax gear. But for now, I’ve been happy to work with the *ist-D and Hoya RM 90 filter.

Only one acceptable image came of the day’s IR shooting. This was shot at the edge of a restored section of Oak Savanna, right about where the deer can be seen in this shot from last summer. The image has been manipulated a bit more in Photoshop than I usually do, but the effect of increasing detail in some areas, while losing it in others, is interesting. Of course – the hot dry wind that made some branches wave during the 8 second exposure also had something to do the blurred areas of the shot.

This image was taken north of the Kalamazoo River. While there I took a few shots of one of the only large tree standing oak trees I’ve ever found in this so-called forest. Those shots were a disappointment – a plain tree, so what?

After working the areas north of the river for a while, I headed over to some familiar fields south of the river. I took the Allegan Dam Road, driving over the dam that backs up the river to make Lake Allegan. This turned out to be a scouting trip – it had been some time since I last drove along the dam – and I looked without luck for some promising areas in which to shoot.

After several visits to familiar haunts, coming up empty with regards to insect shots, I wandered down to the Ottawa Marsh. After all, if dry weather was the problem, than what better place than a marsh to find some moisture.

I saw quite a few bluet damselflies as I hiked down the dirt drive towards the board launch and the entry way to the marsh. Back in the marsh itself the effects of the drought were not as profound as in other areas. Of course – I was walking through areas that are probably knee deep muck during normal years - so that fact that the soil was still moist and vegetation as flourishing should be taken with some measure.

A ways in the marsh, following the river bank, I encountered an area of several acres thick with iron weed and joe-pye weed, all ranging from 4 to 6 feet in height. I wasn’t travelling light – I brought both the insect setup and the digital IR setup (complete with tripod) but I ditched the camera and tripod in a dense thicket, and wandered off into the iron weed.

Red spotted purples, spicebush butterflies, and more than a few giant swallowtails (lovely insects) were attached to the ironweed. It was difficult to get shots with a clean background - literally standing in flowering weeds as tall as me – but I managed a few good captures of giant swallowtails – to be included in a future insect photography update.

Wandering into a patch of vegetation that is pretty much growing over your head is usually not a great idea. Once you are ten feet into the patch, only your own trail leads you back out. But between the handy GPS system and noting a few large trees along the river, it was pretty simple to bee-line right out of the weeds once I was done shooting.

And from there it was a quick hop home.

Yesterday  I went to the Allegan Forest with my friend Bill in hopes of finding a few Karner Blues. I knew it was late in the year, but hoped that they might still be out and about.

Unfortunately, the Karners were gone. In fact, for the first few hours there was very little activity at all on the Oak Savannah – even though the day was warm. It wasn’t until 9:30 or 10:00 A.M. before there was any notable activity from dragonflies or any other insects.

Nonetheless, it was a good day. I forget how huge the Allegan Game Area is – 80 square miles, 50,000 acres. We hit many of my favorite places, but there were just as many that we did not visit. I felt fortunate to live close to such a great wild area – though at best it is semi-wild, considering the litter (mostly in the form of spent ammunition) and criss-crossing roads.

I am also getting concerned about the clear-cutting of huge portions of the forest. As a state, Michigan is in deep financial waters – with an unemployment rate is the worst in the entire nation and plummeting tax revenues. It raises the question of whether the clear-cutting is simply a tool to raise money, through timber sales.

Hmmm…. So where was I?

Oh yes – so while the Karners were gone, by late morning the dragonflies were out in abundance. We hit one of the areas that was clear cut a couple of years ago, and found a very cooperative Halloween Pennant . This was a male subject, resplendent in his orange and black coloring, from which the Halloween moniker comes.

I’ve shot uncounted immature Halloween pennants, but the mature males – with the orange and black colors – seem to be less common than expected. So I was glad to have the chance to get a few shots of them in this session.

While shooting the Halloween pennant, a blue tailed skink made a dramatic appearance. It ran between Bill and I for several minutes – trying to climb up our pant legs and then darting off into the scrubby vegetation.

The skink was a real treat – I know that folks who live n southern climes see lizards all the time, but up here in frozen Michigan, lizards are a rare treat. The Allegan Forest is the only place where I’ve seen skinks in the wild. We’re at the far northern end of their native range, and it’s great to see that they are surviving and apparently thriving in the state game area – even if this specimen was too fast for us to get a clear photograph of it.

At the end of the day we headed over to the abandoned farm off 48th street – the subject of many past posts. It’s been dry in west Michigan – not yet at drought conditions thanks to the wet winter and spring, but dry still. Allegan has been luckier than some other areas of west Michigan. In the last few weeks it has rained there a few times, and the swamp at the end of the old farmstead that I like to visit has held its own – not gaining in moisture, but not losing either. The cracked, dry mud is thankfully gone – replaced with moist soil.

But there the red dragons still reign – the red meadowhawks, the white faced meadowhawks. The pink, shrubby plant that filled the marsh last year is reduced to the edges of the most moist areas – testimony that the marsh survives, at least for this year.

So we snapped a few red dragons, and by mid afternoon called it a day. The ticks were outrageous – I found on my jeans or shirt while walking around or driving, and when I got home I found yet another and a ninth dug in just above the line of my socks. Nasty creatures those wood ticks!

My days of employment are again coming to an end. Soon I will be free to roam the savannah, more or less at will. But these next few weeks are encumbered – I hope to steal off at least once next week to get a head start on August 2007 photographs.

I’m pleased to announce that after much hard work, effort, and toil, my first monograph – Imperfect Symmetry – is now officially published. Copies can be ordered from www.lulu.com/cassino.

I wanted to share some reactions from the literary community on this momentous event – but there were none. So, I can only offer the endorsments I’ve gotten thus far:

Seriously - www.lulu.com/cassino.