Nice At Dusk Too

I tend to come to Great Meadows in the morning.  I guess, I like the quiet and watching the day awake.   Enticed by the photographic birds at our home feeder, frolicking in the afternoon light, I headed to GMNWR to see what was going on.  Amy was pleased to give me a pass to go shoot, since she wouldn't have to cook dinner.  Little did she know I planning on chasing beaver.

Since this was a last minute idea, I arrived a bit late.  I quickly hustled out towards the beaver lodge.  About half way there, I realized I left my camera bag in the car, but I did have the camera!  Tough decision - head back, but probably miss all the light before the sun starts to set, or make do with what I had.  So with only my 70-300mm lens, I pressed on.  What I was really going to miss was my flash.

The day had warmed up nicely.  Several people were walking or skiing, but I liked this person sitting on the observation deck, in quiet contemplation.  Unfortunately, I still had to press on.  The water level in the river has started to rise.  There were some Mergansers swimming in the river, visible through the trees.  I stopped for a moment, near a clearing hopping they would float by.  It was not to be.  Stepping in what I thought was deep snow, I started to feel water come in over the top of my boot.  I had to get moving, before I got too cold & had to head back to the car.


Slowly approaching the beaver lodge, he saw me, before I saw him.  With a quick tail slap, he sounded the alarm and two beavers disappeared under water.  Knowing that they were there, gave me the patience to get into position and quietly wait.  After about 15 minutes the beaver, started to come out.  He would occasionally see me an either move on, or slap his tail.

For about 45 minutes, I watched the beaver swim to and fro.  When he disappeared, several bluebirds came by to entertain me.  During this whole time there was a Mourning Dove chorus serenading me form the far bank of the river.





Photographing the beaver was challenging photographically.  The beaver would remain near the lodge briefly, which would allow you to get clear shots...but the scene was dark.  This is where I would miss the flash left in the car.  When the beaver swam across the river, to sit and eat on the ice, the light was beautiful; unfortunately, the undergrowth was tangled.  You could only try to find a hole in the branches to shoot through to the other side.  Later in the year, there would be dry ground you could stand on, but now it was soft ice & deep frigid water.









When the "good light" disappeared, it was time to begin the trek back to the car.  Most everyone has already left, the refuge was getting quiet and peaceful.  Approaching the boat ramp, I recognized the call of an old friend that we haven't see for a while.  Yes, the Red-winged Blackbirds have started to arrive.  I bet they are wondering what is the story with all this snow and ice.  They were too far away to see, but the call was unmistakable.







The reflection of the setting sun in the ice on the impoundment persuaded me that I should also be visiting Great Meadows at dusk...at least until the cattails grow up and block the view.

Flat Light

Yesterday, I learned that it is difficult to take good photographs and help others take good photographs at the same time.  I volunteered to help Cherrie Corey with her Photo Foray, to help some of the newer photographers.  It was fun to share some of the lessons that others taught me.  I know the questions I asked them, help me think about my own photographs.

The most recent snow storm had just stopped, but the sky was still dark and foreboding.  That didn't stop some people, who were out cross country skiing or snow shoeing.  This family that bundled up their young children and took them along for the ride caught my eye.

Since the light was pretty flat, I focused more on photos with high contrast between the snow & the subjects.  I had challenged myself by only bringing two lenses that I have used much recently - my 100mm macro lens and my wide angle lens.

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Today's walk reinforced the value of coming back to the same place frequently.  Two days ago, the river was mainly frozen over; today it appeared navigable.  One of the beaver lodge's had been totally surrounded by ice; today there were signs of recent construction work on the lodge since the snow stopped.  Unfortunately, we were all looking towards some bluebirds feeding, when the beaver surfaced, saw us, and gave a loud tail slap, before diving under water to get away.

Even with the flat light, there were points of beauty to enjoy.  These ranged from the snow delicately balancing on plants, to the different colors of ice.






Just as we were packing up to leave, the clouds started to part ever so slightly to give a glimpse of the sunset.  It was like a promise that there would be more interesting days for photography in the future.

Looking More Closely

My life since the last post has been a whirlwind.  My wife, Amy, is a candidate for Town Clerk in Burlington (see AmyForClerk.com).  Someone took out nomination papers to run against her 1/2 hour before the deadline last week.  That spun us up into action - there were people to call, websites to build, mailings to send and strategies to implement to meet the challenge.  Thankfully, the deadline for that person to return their signatures has passed, without them being returned, so life has returned to "normal".

It was incredibly quiet this morning at Great Meadows.  The temperature at sunrise was a balmy 10F.  Despite the lack of wind, that seemed to scare away all the people, and most of the animals.  The lack of wind blowing through the trees and reeds combined with the lack of birds singing made for an eerie silence.  The silence broken only by the sound of snow crunching beneath my feet.

The extreme quiet was the perfect antidote to my crazy week.  The camera felt strange in my hands.  I wasn't sure what I wanted to shoot.   Stopping at the bridge over the outlet between the upper and lower impoundments, I stopped to photograph the interplay between ice and water.  







After a while I started to notice the hoar frost on the plants & surfaces surrounding the water.  Today, I seemed to be drawn to details.





Continuing on, I was enticed to photograph the lotus seed pods embedded in the snow.  One was inverted looking like a witches hat, resting on a bed of white.





Then I started noticing the trees are starting to bud, a sign that spring was soon coming.  One tree had a wonderful reddish brown bark on the new growth.  Like that moment in the Wizard of Oz, I could start to feel the monochromatic world of winter starting to thaw.  Down by the boat ramp, one tree was full of red buds.







The temperature started to rise.  Walking in the sun, on the west side of the impoundments, I rapidly started to bask in its warmth.  Funny how back in November, mid-thirties seemed so cold; after months of winter, it now seems so warm.  Down by the holt, the Concord River has started to thaw.  I wonder how long it will be before there will be geese back swimming.  Soon the coyotes easy passage up, down and across the river will  be no more.



Groups of Black-capped Chickadees and Tufted Titmice flew from branch to branch in the upper reaches of the trees.  On the far side of the lower impoundment, I saw a flock of 6 Blue Jays, flying into the woods squawking the whole time, sort of like an avian Hells Angels gang invading the still of the Timber Trail.

Back near the parking lot, the squirrels were quite active.  Many territory disputes were in progress as they chased each other leaping from tree to tree..  I'm not entirely sure, but there may have even been romance in the air.  I'll have to read more about the mating habits of squirrels, but I think I may have accidentally captured an intimate moment, and the resulting post coital bliss....or it may have just been some good clean squirrel play.