Lens Envy

Posted by dkrashb on January 19, 2014

A female bald eagle sitting on her VW-sized nest

Seeing double–double-crested cormorants, that is

A cormorant so close to the water that his wingtip nearly brushes the surface

A juvenile Bald Eagle

A low-flying cormorant

A small flock of Sandhill Cranes circles the area

A Belted Kingfisher turning an abandoned Osprey nest into a convenient fishing perch

3 Sandhill Cranes

One of the many swirling formations of Sandhill Cranes

Trees that appear to have had the soil eroded from their base over the years

Soaring the blue skies

Cormorants hanging out on a convenient perch

Once again, I have celebrated a birthday. I question the wisdom of having 4 annual milestones occur within a month of each other. Nothing like reminding yourself you’re getting older every time you turn around.

First there was our wedding anniversary on the 21st, rapidly followed by Christmas Day, which also happens to be my older brother’s birthday (and he turned 50 this year), New Year’s immediately follows, and then there is my sister-in-law’s birthday, my friends and neighbors’ birthdays, and finally my own.

All of this serves to make me rather reflective at this time of year. Sensing I might be getting into a bit of a funk, I decided to celebrate my birthday (a few days late) by taking a Blue Moon Cruises Eco Tour of the Hiwassee Nature Preserve.

Last year, we went to the Sandhill Crane festival in the same preserve. However, during the festival, you have to take a bus into the refuge and there is only one area you can view birds from. On the plus side, there are volunteers from the ornithological society who setup scopes and point out really great birds. For this reason, last year we saw a Whooping Crane (albeit as a white dot amongst the grayer Sandhill Cranes).

I thought the Blue Moon Cruise might yield some better photographs since we would theoretically get much closer to the birds.

Armed with two cameras and my two longest lenses, after we boarded, I got out my gear and started getting everything setup. Across from me was a man with a case containing a 600mm lens. It’s hard not to stare at a 600mm lens. Much like a breast-obsessed man trying to keep his eyes on a well-endowed woman’s face, I found myself struggling to just look away. Lens envy–something Freud never wrote about.

In truth, I don’t think I could lug a 600mm lens around for long. I tell myself that since I am unlikely to ever decide it’s worth it to spend $13,000 on a lens; it makes me feel like I’m not missing out on anything other than a sore back and tired arms. If you have never seen a 600mm lens in person, it’s about the size of a bullhorn, but longer. Much longer.

I did what I could with my 70-200mm and 100-400mm lenses. The cruise did get us closer to the birds, but not quite close enough that a 600mm lens wouldn’t have come in handy. I am still working my way through the 1500+ images I ended up with during that 3.5 hour tour, but I did grab a few to share today.

I think we saw about 20 Bald Eagles, mostly juveniles.

It’s bound to be a good day when you see 20 Bald Eagles. Although I was slightly disappointed we didn’t see any Whooping Cranes this year, the cruise itself was wonderful.

A New Year

Posted by dkrashb on January 6, 2014

Here we are. A new year. Another marker of the passage of time. So, taking stock of some of my 2013 high/low lights:

I experienced complete and utter presence in the moment repeatedly while learning how to handle birds of prey. I also began to understand how much more I have to learn.

I sat silently with my husband on a cliff in South Cumberland State Park and listened to the wind blowing through the pine trees, experiencing the simple joy of knowing that the wind, the trees, the rocks, my husband, and I were all connected in that moment.

I listened to a troubled friend with an open heart and felt their pain with empathy and without judgment. More frequently, I fell back to my old habit of listening, judging, and trying to fix.

I spent an afternoon visiting with my bestie that was so relaxing, we both fell asleep and napped. There was a time in my life when I would have thought that was a bad thing, but sleep is the ultimate vulnerability. To be with someone and feel so calm and so at ease that I can sleep in her presence now seems like an amazing gift.

I stopped in places I had never seen while on a road trip with Tisen. I paused in my constant push to get somewhere faster to stop and see what was a few miles from the highway, discovering bison, quiet fishing lakes, and a historical village.

I took a walk through a historic plaza in the middle of Madrid on a sunny day in February and feasted on local fare at a tiny restaurant with 6 tables, served with the warmth of family by the couple who owned the place. I experienced food made with love and hospitality.

I deepened my knowledge and appreciation of photography, pushing myself to a place where I feel comfortable that I know what I don’t know and I know what I want to work on next. What I appreciate the most is that it truly is all about the journey–there’s a new discovery every time I look through the lens.

I lost sight of some of the things that are of the greatest importance to my health and well-being. I injured my back in the spring and stopped rowing and riding, only to re-injure my back when I started again weeks later. I haven’t been on my bike in months. Eating has become something that happens when someone hands me food or I’m so hungry I feel nauseous. I not eating well and I am not eating enough. I also stopped finding time to meditate. All of this has added up to sleepless nights, frenetic energy, anxiety, and physical discomfort.

So, I guess I know what my goals for 2014 are: more moments fully experienced. Less time trying to do more. More time recharging myself. I guess that means it’s time to stop writing and go to bed.

Brain Fog

Posted by dkrashb on December 22, 2013

Observation ramp reflected in the wetland

A couple disappearing into the fog

Bridge above fog and below

Market St Bridge looking faint through the fog

With only my 70-200mm lens with me, I tried going vertical to get wide enough to get clouds and water

A B&W version of the scene across the river (fog)

Christmas tree on a cloud

A white-throated sparrow was a much easier subject than the belted-kingfisher

He was accommodating enough that I like 2 shots of him

One last bright spot leftover from fall

A carolina wren refused to come down lower for a better view of him

Ah, Saturday. A day to get things done that I want to do instead of things I have to do. But there seems to have been a problem with that plan.

It all started when I made the mistake of logging on to my work computer. I did this for the purpose of changing my password because it was about to expire and I didn’t want to be locked out. The problem started in that I had to open my inbox. One should never open one’s inbox when one only wants to work for 5 minutes. 2 ½ hours later, I realized I was still in my PJs, my dog hadn’t been out yet, and most of the morning was gone.

After taking care of Tisen, I spent some time trying to get my head around my latest volunteer gig–I’m now the photo contest chair for the local photography club. I had no idea how complicated it is to organize a photography contest. The good news is that it’s fun and I’m getting to know more people.

I’m not exactly sure how it happened, but another couple of hours disappeared between testing FileZilla and realizing it was time to take the dog out again. I decided I was not going to appear for a second time in the park in my PJs and headed for the shower.

. . . .

At the end of our walk, Tisen and I passed a chattering Belted Kingfisher hunting for fish over the wetland.

Now, I know it’s a long shot, but I figured something had to go right today, so maybe it would be getting a shot of the kingfisher? My trusty iPhone is worthless when it comes to bird photography. I rushed the last 100 yards of Tisen’s walk to get home and get my DSLR. 5 minutes later, the elevator reached the ground floor at the exact moment I realized the battery in my camera was dead.

Back up. Back down. Low and behold! The kingfisher was still hunting over the wetland! I crept down the long slope to the water, not looking at the bird. Carefully, I raised my camera to focus on the bird. The moment my lens pointed his way, he went chattering off to another section of the wetland, on the far side of a barrier that blocked my view of him.

I tried to move to the other side of the barrier, but as I was climbing over the rock wall, he reappeared, fish in his mouth, and flew off to enjoy his meal where he was never to be seen again.

This is when I discovered it is possible to do landscape photography with a 70-200mm lens and no tripod. It’s kind of funny, really. I think I started out doing landscape photography with the “wrong” lens and no tripod. Today, it felt like a brand new epiphany. As I searched for a subject, I discovered fog rising off the river. Now that was fun.

Knowledge and Knowing

Posted by dkrashb on November 10, 2013

Dear friends–both human and raptor

I am living and breathing photography and raptors in the most surreal way this week. In the moments I haven’t been doing my day job, I have been preparing for a workshop I’m giving on Sunday to raise money for an organization I volunteer for. We’re calling it: Raptography, a Personal Encounter with Birds of Prey and Photography Workshop.

My partner in this workshop, Dale, the bird expert extraordinaire from Wings to Soar, came up with the name as a joke, but I really liked it. It sums up the workshop well–assuming you know that the family name for birds of prey is Raptors.

Preparing for a workshop involves taking my material, running through it, reorganizing it, supplementing it, researching participants’ cameras to figure out what features and settings will apply for them, and practicing what I want to say to see if I can actually get it all in in the allotted time.

While this is all fun for me, the surreal aspect comes in that I am preparing to teach by reading, writing, creating charts, and finding example images to use. One would think the way to prepare for teaching photography and bird handling would be to do photography and bird handling.

This leads me to think about the balance of learning something in your head and knowing it in your body. For example, if you asked me to show you which button I use to focus, I’d have to hold my camera up and start focusing, then look at which button my thumb is pressing (I use a different button to focus from the shutter button) to tell you. I know this in my body, but I’ve forgotten it in my head because once I knew it in my thumb, I no longer needed to be able to recall that information verbally.

However, in order to teach someone else how to use that same button for focus, I suddenly have to be able to verbalize what my thumb has learned to do instinctively. The process of breaking down what you know in your body into an organizational structure that can be verbalized and explained to others is fascinating to me. For one, it forces me to actually know what choices I make and then articulate why I’m making them. In the process, I’ve discovered some things I wanted to do differently from what I was actually doing.

I have often pondered the old insult, “those who can’t do teach.” I have wondered if perhaps this is a truer version: “those who are spending their time figuring out what they are doing to the extent that they can explain it to someone else are spending less time actually doing it.”

In spending less time doing something, the end result is having less knowing-in -your-body and more knowledge in your head compared to someone who just does it. The question is: how much of each do you need to be really good at what you do?

Volunteering

Posted by dkrashb on October 6, 2013

Right now, a group of us at the Chattanooga Audubon Society are planning a Halloween haunt called “Acres of Darkness.” For 4 nights, a ¼ mile trail will be haunted with all kinds of terrors to raise money for the organization.

Last year I did some shooting at the event, but I wasn’t involved in planning it. This year, the planning committee asked me if I would help after we completed the Birdathon event in April. How could I resist?

I love Halloween. You can try out an alter-ego, eat endless amounts of candy, and experience whatever level of terror you’re comfortable with. It’s just fun.

Saturday morning, I went out to setup one of the stations on the haunted trail. I realized several things about myself. First, although I have worked on things from setting up campsites to roofing to changing the oil in my car to repairing garbage disposals, I have never done them alone.

When we decided to each take a station and be responsible for setting it up, I experienced sudden panic. I realized these are the kinds of jobs where, if pointed in the right direction, I can be helpful, but I’m not adept at deciding what needs to be done.

It was a strange sensation. Most things I do, I am perfectly able and willing to decide how to go about doing them. I am not shy about telling other people what to do, either. Yet, when faced with the simple problem of how to hang some tarps and other props, I found myself at a loss.

Fortunately for me, a far more experienced person was there when I arrived who was willing to help me. I walked out to the site ahead of him, having been told that everything we needed was already at the site. There was one, long, yellow nylon rope, two large tarps, and a length of misting hose.

This is when I (re)discovered a second thing about myself: I really only know how to tie one knot. That’s the knot I use to tie my shoes. I learned it from a book of knots my nephew got when he was about 10. It prevents your shoelaces from untying, but you can still pull out the knot with one pull. It’s a great knot for shoes; not so great for tarp hanging.

In spite of my years in the Camp Fire Girls, even a basic square knot comes out a tangled mess. This made me feel especially grateful for the Eagle Scout and long-time Scout Master who was helping me. I would still be there trying to tie up that tarp if he hadn’t been there.

While I was there, I did a little shooting of a River Rescue volunteer crew picking up trash in the creek that runs through Audubon Acres. I got to wade through the creek, see a Belted Kingfisher, and hear a Red-shouldered Hawk. Great start to a Saturday morning!

Final Curtain

Posted by dkrashb on July 28, 2013

Elvi and Bo

One final post with guest photographer Patrick Murray (aka, my husband).

This will be the last post from the Raptor Experience with my husband’s aunt and uncle. It was a great experience. They came on a visit from Germany and the birds helped bridge any language gaps (at least for me–my husband speaks German just fine–it’s his first language).

Horst and Dante

Bo and Dante, the Harris’s Hawks, got to spend a little time learning German. They normally don’t participate in raptor educational programs these days, although one of them may be making a debut soon, but during the raptor experience, they get to spend a little time visiting with participants. Bo and Dante normally sit out on perches in the yard. One of the first questions people ask is “what about coyotes?” Bo and Dante don’t sit out on their perches unattended. If no caretaker is going to be close at hand, they go back into their enclosures where they are safe. But, they enjoy hanging out under the canopy of trees and are quite content. They are also content to sit on a glove and look beautiful.

Elvi, Cayce, and me assisting

Harris’s Hawks are not found in the majority of the US. Texas is the most likely place to find them, although they are also seen in New Mexico, Arizona, the most Southern part of Southern California, Louisiana, and, occasionally, Oklahoma and Nevada. To see two in Tennessee is quite a treat–they truly are beautiful birds. They’re also quite intelligent hunters. They hunt in a cooperative fashion in small groups. This has made them a favorite among falconers and they work very well with hunting dogs.

Elvi and I confer while Cayce heads off the other direction

I have never seen a Harris’s Hawk in the wild, although they are not considered endangered or rare. The just have limited territory in the US and I haven’t been where they are. Just as I wouldn’t expect to see an Anna’s Hummingbird in Columbus, Ohio, it would be silly to think I’m going to spot a Harris’s Hawk in Chattanooga. Sometime I’m going to make a trip back to Harris’s Hawk territory when I have time to go birding.

Cayce flies up to Horst’s glove

As usual, in spite of the charm of the owls or the flying of the Red-tailed hawk, Cayce stole the show. She refused to fly from glove to glove. Instead she hopped along the ground, only flying up to a glove for a treat. She’s a funny girl. I wore my boots just in case she decided to try to bite my legs. She chased me briefly, snapping at my calves. I was happy I had my boots on. I don’t know exactly what makes Cayce so universally lovable. Maybe it’s just the surprise of getting to know a vulture and discovering that they’re so cool? What ever the reason, Horst and Elvi appeared to enjoy Cayce’s antics just as much as if we were all speaking the same language.

Cayce lands on Horst’s glove

Cayce waiting for us to get our act together so she can hop onto Elvi’s glove

Loaned Camera

Posted by dkrashb on July 27, 2013

There I am, sharp as a tack back by the car

Another post with guest photographer Patrick Murray. I particularly like these images. Why, you ask? Well, I like the fact that while my husband had an incredible Red-tailed hawk flying right at him, he was focusing on me in the background. 🙂

But, for the budding photographer, there are several lessons here. First, there is the “someone just handed me their camera and asked me to take pictures with it” lesson. Had I planned better, I would have taken my husband’s camera, with which he is slightly more familiar. Or, I would have at least turned off the back-button focusing setting on my camera, which was something my husband wasn’t used to (I am a huge fan of using back-button focusing instead of pressing the shutter button ½ way to find focus, but that’s another subject).

Yep, it’s me again in focus in the background

I did think to put my camera in Aperture Priority mode (where you pick the aperture and ISO and let the camera pick the shutter speed) and set the aperture for what I thought would be a pretty good depth of field for someone who might not always focus exactly where I wanted him to. However, I failed to change the focus point selection to a single focus point, which probably would have made it a little easier on my husband.

But then, he might have focused on the birds instead of me and I wouldn’t have gotten quite the same kick out of it. 🙂

I’m not really in focus in this one, but I have to laugh at me peeping around the corner!

I also set the camera in single-shooting mode when we started the raptor experience for my husband’s aunt and uncle. This was appropriate because they were holding owls on their gloves who can’t fly. These owls don’t move fast enough to justify continuous shooting mode.

But, this created a problem when we switched to flying the birds–he was getting finger cramps trying to press the shutter button fast enough. Being in single-shot focusing mode also didn’t help. Of course, since he wasn’t remembering to use the back button to focus anyway, using the continuous focusing mode wouldn’t really have helped in this case. I guess that takes us to point 1.

Oh yes, there I am again

I forgot I was enumerating the lessons, so let’s review. If you’re handing your camera off to a novice and expecting them to do all the shooting of an up-close and person raptor experience:

Turn off back-button focusing if you normally use it
Set the focus point selection to a single focus point
Use an aperture setting that provides an appropriate depth of field (like f/8ish)
Select a high enough ISO setting that the shutter speeds won’t get too slow for the action shots
If the birds are perching, use single shooting mode
If the birds are flying, turn on high speed continuous shooting and continuous focusing
Try to stay out of the background
Be prepared to do a lot of editing.

Of course, if you’re not assisting in the raptor experience, you can take the photos yourself.

I just like this one–Elvi looks so happy

Speaking Owl

Posted by dkrashb on July 26, 2013

Artie looking very happy on Horst’s glove

Note: my husband is once again the guest photographer for all photos of the Raptor Experience, including in yesterday’s post.

One of the great pleasures in life is sharing something you love with someone who enjoys the experience. Think about it. While on the one hand, we might respect that everyone has different tastes, there is something in human nature that causes us to gravitate towards people who appreciate the same things we appreciate. And introducing someone to something that’s a personal favorite makes for a particularly enjoyable experience. It’s like discovering a new food that makes you want to groan when you put it in your mouth and finding out that someone else has the exact same reaction–it’s something in common, creating a tiny bond.

Elvi speaks owl fluently

I think that’s why I enjoy volunteering for Wings to Soar so much. There aren’t many people who don’t enjoy getting up close to birds of prey. There are a few. I recently met someone who is terrified of birds–probably not a great idea to introduce her to the raptors. But most people are pretty fascinated by getting to see a creature up close that they normally only get to see soaring overhead or perched high above.

Me assisting in the background in my Cayce-protecting boots

It’s interesting how this interest crosses cultures and language. I may not be bilingual, but I’m pretty sure the owls are. They seem to recognize their admirers in any language.

Artie, the Barred Owl, hopped on Horst and Elvi’s gloves and immediately settled down and looked content. he wasn’t the least concerned about what language they spoke–as far as he was concerned, they spoke owl.

Theo hopping over to Horst’s glove

Theo, the Barn Owl, however, might have been a little too settled–he was content to ride over to Elvi and Horst when we were hoping he would fly. He sat on the perch and stared, occasionally acting like he was going to fly, but then waited patiently for Dale to come over and put him on her glove. Dale walked Theo closer to Elvi and Horst in turn, trying to get Theo to a distance from which he would fly. Theo looked longingly at the tasty piece of mouse on the destination glove, but he wouldn’t fly to it. When Dale put her glove next to Horst or Elvi’s glove, he happily hopped over to their glove and munched contentedly. He seemed perfectly happy; he just didn’t feel like flying.

Theo happy to join Elvi

Theo is a human imprint–he was raised by humans and doesn’t really understand he’s an owl. I sometimes wonder if his reluctance to fly is because he identifies so much with humans, he starts to think it’s unnecessary. But, then there are days when Theo doesn’t seem to want to sit on a glove at all. He baits and baits and can’t seem to stay still. I don’t know if it was the calming influence of Horst and Elvi, but I think he would have sat all day.

The 3-gloved approach

Speaking German

Posted by dkrashb on July 25, 2013

My husband with his aunt and uncle (this was a test shot when I was setting up my camera for my husband)

It’s been a pretty crazy week. Last Wednesday, I left for a solo road trip to Columbus, Ohio. I spent a few days up North and then met up with my husband’s family to pick up his aunt and uncle, who are visiting from Germany. I brought them home with me to Chattanooga on Sunday.

As a typical American who speaks only 1 language with anything close to fluency, driving for 7+ hours with two people who speak little English introduced some interesting challenges. We attempted to address the challenges with technology. I downloaded the Google translator app on my iPad and handed it to Pat’s aunt so she could speak into the iPad and translate what she wanted to say into English. The app will even read the translation out loud, which is perfect when you’re driving.

Horst takes a turn holding Buddy

There were a few glitches, however. Elvi, Pat’s aunt, had trouble getting it to hear her properly. At one point, I heard her mutter, “Transfestite . . . transvestite . . . oh! Transvestite!” I looked over at her, smiling, and she said (in much better English than google managed), “Something I never said!” I was just impressed she knew the word.

Horst meets Gilbert–they had no trouble communicating

I learned that, in Germany, people are not allowed to talk on their cell phones while operating a vehicle. Elvi was rather shocked when she saw a man driving by in what seems to be the common posture of 20-something American men: slouched low in the seat, elbow propped on the window sill, cell phone held tight against his ear. As he sped past me at something well over 75 mph, I wondered if it was physically possible for him to see out of his windshield, let alone his side windows or rearview mirrors.

I also learned that in Germany, passengers can drink alcohol while someone who is not drinking is driving. I thought about this for a while. Study after study has shown that people who are on a cell phone can’t drive. Some studies suggest cell-phone-talkers exhibit worse response times and greater levels of distraction while driving than people who have a blood alcohol level that barely exceeds the legal limit.

Elvi and Buddy bonding

I did not even try to explain why we Americans (except in a handful of states) think it’s our god-given right to talk on the phone while we drive, yet think it’s just plain criminal to let a passenger enjoy a beer as they ride down the road. I picked up my cell phone and called my husband instead.

We made it to Chattanooga with what may have been a world record for the fewest words spoken during a 7 hour car ride ever. I spent most of the journey trying to remember all the German words I once knew (not that there were a lot). It wouldn’t have helped much–even if I could remember them, I wouldn’t have been able to pronounce them in a recognizable form.

I think Gilbert developed a crush on Elvi

Bridge and Heron

Posted by dkrashb on July 5, 2013

Not nearly as exciting as when the bridge was fully open

About a week or so ago, I was out walking both Tisen and Twiggy when I missed a once-a-year shot. Walking Tisen and Twiggy together gets a little tricky at times. Twiggy likes to lead. Not just Tisen, but me, too. She likes to decide where we’re going and when we’re going there. When we disagree with where she wants to go, her claws extend much like a cat’s, except that she possesses some superpower that allows her to drive them into concrete. She then leans with her body at what is often a 45 degree angle against her harness and demands that everyone goes the direction she wants to go.

Tisen is somewhat oblivious to her demands. If he catches a scent in the opposite direction, he goes towards it without regard for me, Twiggy, or the fact that he’s got a collar pulling against his neck. I sometimes worry that he would strangle himself before he would realize he was the one causing it.

The gap is no longer even visible

When Twiggy goes one way and Tisen goes another, the human who happens to be in the middle ends up doing what could be called the “Scarecrow,” but with very straight arms. On days when both dogs are particularly adamant about the direction they want to go, it’s more like being on a medieval rack.

I have been working with the dogs to try to prevent this problem. I’ve gotten Tisen to return to me when I make a certain sound and Twiggy to understand that we’re going to turn when I want to turn unless there’s something particularly tempting in the direction she’s determined to go.

But on this particular morning, as we made our way through the park, I suddenly got a view of the Market Street bridge and realized it was fully open. It’s a rare type of draw bridge that’s opened and closed by a counter-weight system. I don’t recall what it’s called, but it’s pretty cool. It’s opened about once a year for inspection, but this was the first time I’d ever seen it fully open.

Shooting with my iPhone doesn’t allow for close-ups, but you can see the Heron just right of 12 o’clock at the top of the tree

Unfortunately, as I wrestled my iPhone out of my pocket and juggled it and two leashes to get my password entered, Twiggy spotted another dog in a different direction. At the same time, Tisen spotted the same dog and decided he wanted to stay bolted to the spot he was currently standing on.

I cajoled and whistled and made my “come to me” noise to no avail. Finally, the other dog moved far enough away that Twiggy and Tisen would listen to me again. I got them down the path to where I could get a decent shot (although not all the way to my destination) just in time to catch the last few feet of the bridge closing.

I was not a happy dog walker. When I turned, a Great Blue Heron was perched at the very top of a nearby tree. I’m certain he was laughing at me.

Look carefully–you can see the heron laughing at me

nomadicmainstream

Combining living on the road with a mainstream lifestyle

Category Archives: Birding