Looks like the toad I photographed on the garden wall is back again this year. Check out the throat markings. It’s about the same size and color as well.
What do you think?
Or how to get over beaver dams in your kayak without going swimming!
Sometimes my inner slacker tries to get the upper hand.
A while back in August I decided to rack up the kayak and put it in the water. Even that much I had to talk myself into since the rack wasn’t even on the car, much less the boat. But strap it up I did and headed off to a man-made lake I’d paddled before but with limited success. Limited because it was my first season as a paddler and I didn’t know how to deal with beaver dams. Last year it totally bummed me out because my favorite paddling is river paddling. I like the hemmed in quality of the banks and vegetation; never knowing what you’ll find around the next bend. This section of the lake is really a narrow stream and marsh, so it was wonderfully windy. The tranquility is like no other I’ve experienced. Birds, frogs, turtles and yeah, the occasional beaver or muskrat. I love it all. Sure, the open part of the lake has its appeal, but not like the back channel. So what to do about beaver dams?
On this 2nd trip to the lake, I knew one was there, but didn’t do any planning or research as to how to tackle them. I don’t know why, I just didn’t. And then when I got there the wind kicked up considerably and so I almost didn’t even get the boat down. I almost decided that it was too windy and I hate paddling in the wind. But I’d driven almost an hour and it was just plain stupid to give up. Plus I remembered how sheltered it can be on a narrow channel below the shrubline. In the water I went. Still no plan as to how to get past the first dam, knowing full well it was a really short paddle unless I could figure out a way to do it and not either dump myself or my camera bag into the drink. It’s a drybag, but still.
So there it is. The one that got me. I could hear it laughing. So I sat there a while studying it and thinking. I probed the water depth with the paddle and found it to be about mid thigh. That’s if the bottom was solid. No way to tell. I tried paddling very fast and hard to see if I could build up enough momentum to clear and ended up wedging the boat in the breach. It was when I did that that I figured out how to get over. The water on the immediate other side is very shallow and sandy. All I needed to do was to get the kayak through the low part enough so that I could get my feet planted on the other side, well on the top of the dam itself actually. Then I could stand up (oh how it pays to do squats!) and use my hands to guide the boat between my feet. Step forward, slide boat, step, slide then sit back down and paddle. It worked. On my first try I didn’t walk the boat far enough from the breach and I was practically floated back down over the dam, but managed to stop myself in time. Woo hoo! I was on the other side of the dam. I did a little victory lap. Take that, rodents!
I felt so great after that I didn’t even mind when it started to gently rain.
After several bends I had to thread my way carefully though shallow water and pickerel weed to find yet another dam. Luckily this one had another water-level breach. That’s the key. The boat has to be able to get across the structure somewhere and it has to be low enough for me to get my feet onto it and be able to stand. Anything above the waterline wouldn’t be possible. Not with this technique. I had just barely enough room to make a running start at the breach, so to speak. Wedged the kayak, secured the paddle under the deck bungee, got my feet onto the top of the dam itself, raised myself to standing while gripping the sides of the boat and gave it a pull. Step, slide, step, slide, step, slide – this time a little further so I wouldn’t drift downstream too far. Back in the boat and paddling upstream. Not too shabby.
Upstream from this one there was a lot more evidence of the beaver population; lots of prints on the banks and little tunnels and openings in the bushes where they’d come and go. It was cool, but I didn’t see one. Bummer. I wanted to rub it in a little. Luckily I didn’t because they had the last word.
Curses, foiled again!
Then I found that going downstream over the dams was really fun, so I got a bit of my own back.
See you next year beavers!
More from the yard. Everything was shot with the legacy OM 90mm f2 macro except for the amanita.
My husband is used to it by now. If I see something, I can’t sit still until I shoot it. Sometimes just a new idea about how to shoot something will obsess me until I do it. Or the light will change and something will lure me off my chair. Our hanging out on the deck time is often punctuated by me coming and going with the camera. Just the other day though, we had a visitor –
I decided to leave the manual 90mm macro on just to see if I could work with it and a moving subject. It was challenging, but not impossible. The detail at this ISO (1000) is pretty amazing. Some of the softness is grass extremely close to the lens and out of focus. I just wasn’t able to get a lot of that out of the way for fear of scaring it. Never before have I had such an easy time with a garter snake. It was aware of me, but not frightened. I didn’t shoot it the whole time, but just watched it move and investigate a small section of my yard.
Some of our visitors join us right on the deck, like this little shieldbug –
Isn’t he great? The colors just knock me out. Check out his little pink legs! You know you’re a photographer when a bug lands on the deck and you run in for the camera. Another shieldbug came by yesterday, but it was too active to shoot – it crawled all over the place then flew off, crashed into the house, bounced off and landed in the lawn. Who knew bugs could be so entertaining? This earlier one posed for me quite happily though. When I was a kid we called them stinkbugs.
Then there was this mayfly that came by in June –
I love the detail in this shot. All the different structures and formations. I learned that mayflies do not have mouth parts and thus do not eat. The adults exist only to breed. And to serve as models for fly fishermen. The golden mayfly is the largest of the species and from head to the base of the body (not including that long whippy tail) it’s about 1 and 1/4 inches. It stayed on the screen door for more than 24 hours before I decided to send it on its way. I mean, no other mayflies were hanging out so it needed to find where the party was.
The mushroom population is a little thin this year, but this beauty is gracing us with its presence now. I’m no expert, but I think it might be an amanita farinosa.
This next shot is a couple weeks old. It’s a very common weed, but like many plants we call weeds, it can be very beautiful (especially after it rains, which was when I took this image). This one always catches my attention because the yellow is so very pale and soft. Not like garden loosestrife, St. John’s Wort, Butter-n-eggs and some other yellow flowers.
But nature isn’t all wonderful all the time. It’s rough out there for some. When I first spied this tiny bird’s egg by my walk, I was delighted. I love finding signs of new life and activity. Then I turned over one section and found the yolk still intact. Instant sadness.
It is all part of a much larger cycle though and within a few hours all traces of the yolk were gone. Ants found it and made short work of it. Some of those ants will feed a bird or two or other creatures that birds eat.
What kind of egg is it? I thought it would be pretty easy to ID, but lots of little birds make tiny speckly eggs. My best guess is titmouse. It’s about the size of my thumbnail – a little larger than a dime.
Yesterday I found something very cool in the yard, but I haven’t photographed it yet, so you’ll have to wait for the surprise.
By now, you’ve probably figured out I’m not a wildlife photographer, but will take the opportunity when it presents itself. I got a few of those lately so I wanted to put together a critter collection post. Spring certainly is springing and everyone seems to be out and about, even this guy –
I haven’t come across one so early in the season before. Because it was chilly (50s) it was way less wiggly than newts usually are.
Along another trail I nearly trod on this beauty sunning itself. I can’t believe it stayed and let me photograph it with my 12-35mm which is pretty short in terms of focal length. Basically I’m right up in the snake’s face. After indulging me a few seconds, it slithered away.
There’s a small pond at the Garden in the Woods and the bullfrogs are basically in charge –
I have a big picture window in the front of my house and big glass door in the back. Unfortunately these confuse our feathered friends and they sometimes crash into them. So far no bird has killed itself, but a few have been stunned enough to be vulnerable for a few minutes. I always go outside to check on them whenever I hear one hit. This gorgeous little yellow-bellied flycatcher is the latest casualty. I only went to get the camera after I saw enough improvement to know it would be ok. Again it’s shot with my short little zoom and so I had to get right up on him. A few minutes after this he was on his way, flying through the trees and away.
Last but not least is another fleet-flyer, a newly-emerged dragonfly. This one was still sheltering in some grass while its exoskeleton and wings firmed up enough for it to head for the skies. I deliberately angled and cropped to get a more unusual view of this favorite subject. The sheer perfection of its wings is amazing. Wonders of nature for sure.
So that’s my wildlife experience so far this year. I’m sure there will be more, but this seems like a good start!
It’s raining now and probably will for most of the week. That means more mushrooms, but it’s not like we have a shortage now.
All were shot with the OM 90mm. I don’t know what I’d do without that lens.
and you should know that by now. Here’s a group of tiny things that have found themselves in front of my lens.
oh and something a little different, from Ryan and Wood Distillery, based in Gloucester, MA.
Haven’t been shooting so much as last year, but I am going to California in September and so hope for some good things from that trip.
I’d been meaning to get back here since the first time I explored this little swatch of conservation land. It contains the middle branch of the Piscataquog river and has some interesting aspects to it like a pond and some defunct bridges. Unfortunately the light wasn’t overly cooperative and when the sun came out I had to pack it in. While it lasted though, I got some decent images and I think they show why this river is so special.
For this first one I had to dodge poison ivy, a pretty regular thing in these parts. The bank is high and steep and I liked the vantage point. At the very back of the shot, the river takes an abrupt turn, just like the one in the very front of the shot. A zig-zag. It’s pretty great. The ferns in the foreground (and some of the rest of the greenery) are royal fern and I just had to use them to frame the shot.
If you stayed at this position, you could have watched me take this next shot. It’s looking back this way from just in front of that bend down there. I loved the juxtaposition of the dead tree and the live, bendy tree and so I got in the river to frame them together. The ferns on the banks are a combination of royal and what looked like cinnamon fern, although I didn’t really look closely for the cinnamon-y spore stalks. Might have been interrupted fern which is of a similar height and leaf structure.
A neat feature of this property is the old mill pond that is now semi-dammed by beavers instead of humans. The trail actually includes the beaver dam and you have to walk along it. The pond helps to create a slightly different habitat for local color.
Not all of the trail around the pond is so accommodating, but there are some helpful walkways and bridges. The light wasn’t good enough to shoot the pond itself, but it was terrific for adding much needed depth to the woodland trail. Just back beyond those dark trees, I scared a deer half to death. Sorry deer!
If this entices you to get out into the woods – go! And if you’re in southern NH, you can get a map of this bit of the world here – Middle Branch map. When you get there, be kind, be responsible, pick up other people’s trash (and don’t leave any yourself) and enjoy reconnecting with nature.
Another one that isn’t so much elusive, as limited in photographic potential.
It’s limited in a few ways. First it lives in bogs and fens which are relatively rare habitats made rarer by man’s manic need to fill in wetlands and build subdivisions on them. If you live in Indiana, Ohio, Tennessee or Illinois the flower is endangered or threatened and you may never see one there unless you are very lucky. Second limiting factor is that a lot of bogs are just plain inaccessible without stilts. The peat and heath matting is very deep, totally soaked and difficult to travel through. Luckily Ponemah bog has a decent walkway that passes right by some of these beauties and with some creative positioning (and knee pain) I could shoot them.
A bit more research turned up the fact that they are carnivorous. No wonder they do well in bogs which are notoriously too low in nutrient levels for most plants. I also photographed a couple other carnivorous plants the other day, but I’ll save those for later. Horned bladderwort doesn’t use sticky traps or funnels of death to catch its prey. This little flower uses its leaves which have been specially adapted with bladders that suck tiny organisms up into them to be digested. The leaves are spindly and are almost always under ground, leaving only the stem and flowers on the surface.
The shape of the flowers is pretty interesting and they seem to be a favorite of the local spiders. All these images were shot with the OM 90mm macro. Because of the boardwalk, photographic compositions are limited, but with some contortions and gentle bending out of the way of distracting elements, I got a few that are pretty good. The backlit and sunlit shots just didn’t work well since the backgrounds also tended to be lit up and the flowers got lost in them. The pink of the orchids in the last bog series stood out much more because of the color contrast.
In the next few days I’ll also put up some shots of the bog itself at dawn. This last trip I spent some time shooting landscapes and slices of landscapes that really depict the fullness and richness of the ecosystem. I even saw wet little fox footprints on part of the walkway, so there’s a lot of life there that goes unseen.
The day of my epic face-plant yielded another present that I would have definitely missed had I gone home. All three of you that read this thing know that I had (have) a mini-project (obsession) going with Indian pipe flowers. I don’t know what it is about these luminous beauties, but I am so drawn to them. So when I was walking by the Piscataquog I found the biggest, most densely-populated swath of them I’ve ever seen. Seriously. There were so many little groups it was like a game of twister for me to not step on any while crouching under hemlock branches trying for microscapes. It was worth it though because not only was the light lickable, but the flowers were almost all pink! Pink! I don’t think in all of the time I’ve been photographing these have I seen really pink ones. So great.
So is the title Nancy Drew-ish or Sherlock Holmsian? Either way, it was an incident to be sure. I decided to head up to Loverens Mill Cedar Swamp Preserve on Tuesday. I was after some solitude and afternoon light. Little did I know that they were logging the surrounding forest. But, being the trooper that I am I went past the gouged up road that had to be carved through the woods and eventually got to the trail proper. It wasn’t exactly peaceful though. I couldn’t hear chainsaws so I think that part of the excision was over, but the big transporter rig was moving through and was startlingly close. Basically it’s a huge truck with a claw that picks up the dead trees and hauls them to the pick up area where the road trucks will use similar claws to load them and then take them to a mill somewhere. Funny that the lumber mill the site is named for is no longer in operation; they could have just left them stacked where they were if it was.
Anyway, after a while of trying to get into the groove in the swamp itself, I decided to call it quits. Between the constant auditory barrage of the truck and the fact that the boardwalk was damaged, spongy and underwater partway along, I didn’t have a lot of peace or exploration opportunities. I considered doing the loop that goes down by the river, but was just too disappointed by the disruption of the logging. I couldn’t have had worse timing though and when I got back to the area where the trees were stacked, the guy with the hauler was there unloading. I didn’t want to risk a tree slipping and crushing me, so I stayed safely out of the guy’s work area for a time while he did his thing. Danger is not my middle name. Neither is stupidity.
Clumsy apparently is though because when he moved the truck to another section of the pile, I decided to run for it. If the terrain had been better I think I would have been ok, but it was loose soil topped with huge rocks to form a rudimentary road bed. Unstable as hell. I was halfway down when a rock seemed to buck me off and I went down hard. My elbow caught the brunt of the impact, but I also got nailed with a poiny rock just in front of my left kidney. By this time the guy in the truck saw me and made as if to get out, but I sprang up, grabbed the stuff that I dropped and gave him a wave, feeling utterly humiliated as I limped off back to my car.
A survey of the damage revealed that the iPod and the camera were ok and still functioning. The lens cap popped off the 12-60mm, but no other damage was visible. I fired off a shot or two and sighed with relief. Another big sigh when the iPod still played and that my Bose earbuds were still in one piece. But was I? I bent to unlace my boots and wondered what that red spatter was. Blood apparently. My blood. From my gashed up elbow. Nice. And there were some abrasions and what would turn out to be spectacular bruises, especially the one on my side. The damage seems to be superficial though; no blood in my urine (oh TMI right?) I guess love handles are useful for something.
So after changing into sandals, getting my breath back and making sure my gear and I were ok, I headed out. An hour later I arrived in New Boston and felt pretty good despite some wicked stinging in my elbow. I decided to stop and have a stroll by the Piscataquog. Now, I’m going to go off message here for a bit and relate something that amazed me. Yeah, yeah, pictures are coming, hang on a sec. See, I’ve switched to an ancestral diet as of June 2. Often called paleo, my specific eating outline is primal which includes dairy and wine. Basically I’ve eliminated grain and processed food from my diet. The upshot is that the day of The Incident at the Cedar Swamp I still felt great after a few hours in the woods and the fall. Great enough to continue on to another preserve and walk some more. I know for a FACT that I would have given up and gone home a month ago. I’d done it before. Mostly it’s the intense carb cycle of sugar high and the eventual crash and that now I don’t subject my body to that anymore. Now I have a constant energy stream that keeps my mental, emotional and physical systems running more optimally. I didn’t feel drained, depleted, tired or exhausted in any way. After a handful of pistachios around 3:30, I stayed out for another 2 hours. Unheard of in me pre-primal life.
Ok. Now you get pics. Thanks for reading so far. I’m usually no so wordy, huh?
Here’s one shot I would have missed if I’d called it quits and not walked by the Piscataquog. The light was nice and the wind was calm so it just took some effort managing the background for this one. I wonder how many other things I missed because of my carb-crashes.