The Ice Man Goeth
Other than a few lonely banks of snow in dark places, we've swiftly transitioned into Spring. In only a few weeks the snow went from thick and crusty to patchy to puddles. No flowers or new foliage yet, but there's that smell in the air of growing things waiting impatiently to burst forth. Everything is kind of dry and yellow and dusty, and we haven't even had our usual Spring flood.
Given these conditions, it's been an interesting photography challenge. However, with my new macro lens, I've had some fun getting closeups, and exploring the very small. I really love the metallic sheen on this seed pod in the early evening light:
The strengthening sun also melts the snow in odd ways, hollowing out snow underneath the crust, and leaving long plateaus of thin ice hovering over the grasses below:
As I was getting pictures of the first pussy-willows near a pond:
...a small fly perched itself on the end of a broken twig. I can only assume it was sipping sap from the end of the twig, but it gave me a lot of time to get close and set up the shot. The fly is no bigger than your pinky fingernail:
I've also lucked out with wildlife, at least from an "I actually saw some" point of view. No prize winning pictures yet, but I've never seen otters in the wild before, and one day near a river I was treated to four of them swimming up and down the river, coming up on the snowbanks opposite me, and harassing a goose.
The river still had a good crust of snow near the banks, which made for some great ice formations:
But the ice was thinning in calmer water, to the point of being practically transparent:
Near the river, the swampy sections were still frozen thick, and the grasses made a nice screen for me to shoot through:
This let me see the otters without disturbing them too much. They knew I was there, but after I'd been there quietly for an hour they began to ignore me. I really can't wait for my new long telephoto, but in the meantime:
When I first arrive at my perch among the reeds it was fascinating how all the crows and geese made a ruckus. But after I'd sat there quietly for a time they moved on or quieted down, and I was able to watch normal pre-Spring-frozen-marsh life carry on. I can't really quantify all the interactions between the various animals, but it's quite an intricate community.
A goose had laid claim to a small patch of snow. After it got bored with me, it settled into its spot and even slept. But every half hour or so the otters would return up or down stream and get a little too close for the goose's comfort:
Part of me was hoping for something dramatic, but the goose was alert, and the otters didn't push it.
After a while I left, feeling the need to walk. I need to work on my patience, because I always feel like "the action" is somewhere else, and if I'm not moving I'm not seeing it. That day was a good lesson, because just sitting let me see a lot. But still, legs are made for walking, and so I lucked upon a grouse. It kept moving out of a clear line of sight, until I recalled my "fawn" experience (described in one of my earlier blog entries) and decided to talk to it, and just scratch. I'm here to say, scratching seems to be the one thing every animal can relate to. The grouse relaxed, and didn't work so hard to get every twig between itself and my lens:
Again, wishing for that new long lens, but this didn't turn out too badly.
That day ended quite spectacularly, with an amazing sunset, a wonderful capper to a fantastic day. I've become leery of trying to take sunset pictures, but I couldn't resist:
As the days warmed and the snow got patchier, and the textures of the old yellow grasses were revealed, I found myself thinking more in black and white. The colours were somewhat drab, but the contrast was high. I really like the shades in the different densities of ice:
The snow here looks lonely now:
Grasses, poplars, and snow have some great texture:
And honestly it's not too bad in colour, if you get close:
And finally, I kind of lucked into this shot, as the setting sun suddenly breached a gap in the tree line and provided some great shadows:
In the last week, the snow has pretty much disappeared. We went from this:
...to this in a matter of weeks:
Now that the snow is gone, the forest floor is damp, but clear. Mosses are taking advantage of the moisture around the bases of the poplars. There's no foliage yet though, so the late evening sun still falls through the trees:
The above was taken with my other new lens, a 50-135 f2.8. It produces amazingly sharp images, and I'm really happy with it and have been eager to test it out. I went off the main trail and, following the deer trails and my "hunches", I came across a small herd of deer. Much scratching ensued, the universal signal of "don't panic, we're all cool here". They didn't bolt immediately, even letting me find better vantage points. They blend into the background so well, black and white does it best:
And so the season turns. I confess to missing winter already, and I'm not looking forward to ticks and mosquitoes, but I'm sure there will be some fantastic photographic opportunities ahead.
Cheers!
