Serenity in a salt marsh, Parker River National Wildlife Refuge

"What good is a salt marsh?" asks the sign at the long pull-off area next to the salt pannes in Parker River National Wildlife Refuge. I love this sign with its catchy title, and it shares important natural features of these awesome ecosystems. For me, the essence of a salt marsh goes even further. There's something about this ecosystem that just pulls me in -- far enough that I studied them for my Ph.D.! The sights, the smells, just the feel of a breeze flowing over them, it's all unmatched for me. Photographically, I haven't made that many images that attempt to capture some of that magic. I'm usually distracted looking for wildlife, like this snowy egret, rather than focusing on all of the interesting details that abound.

On my drive out of the refuge as the sun was dropping fast toward the horizon, I pulled off the road to watch this delightful snowy egret hunting in the shallow water. Its feathers were drenched in the warm glow of the falling light, and it emphatically leapt from panne to panne as it searched for a meal. I followed it with my lens, having to roll the car forward a few times to keep up with its exuberance. Egrets are a marvel to watch as they hunt, darting this way and that, shading the water, and seemingly dancing their way through the process. I was happy to observe its show near the road, and after a few minutes, it flew further back into the marsh. The golden light was caressing the salt grass and casting low shadows, and everything fell into place when the egret landed and set off a wave of small ripples, leaving me with one of my favorite photos from 2017.

So what good is a salt marsh? The list of benefits is long, but at the top for me is the warm feeling that overcomes my consciousness when I'm able to soak in a scene like this.

Sprint and stop, Piping Plover at Sandy Point State Reservation

As I mentioned in my favorite photos of 2017 post, this very friendly piping plover gave me a lot of great looks as it sprinted across the sand and then stopped on a dime. It's an interesting behavior -- I'm not sure if it's related to finding prey or to evading predators, but its certainly common among the piping plovers I've had a chance to observe. After I positioned myself in the sand, the plover kept working its way closer, giving me wary but seemingly curious looks along the way. It continued to close the distance between us, with the frame below being taken at 270mm on my telephoto zoom. Eventually, it came close enough that I could no longer attempt to focus on it (my Tamron has a minimum focusing distance of 8 feet), so I pulled back from the viewfinder and just enjoyed the chance to observe a gorgeous shorebird at close range. It's always special to earn the trust of a wild animal and the opportunity to share space with it on its own terms!

Protection from the world, Sandy Point State Reservation

I led off my favorite photos of 2017 post with this handsome piping plover and its chick set against the lush green backdrop of the dunes. On its own, that image (the last in this post) warms my heart with a tender moment between a parent and the most important being in the world to it (something I can now relate to!). I think the full context of this image is interesting to show as well. It was a reasonably nice day on the beach, but there was an occasional stiff wind ripping over the inlet and across the spit of sand at the tip of Sandy Point State Reservation. The strong gusts were pelting us with blowing sand, and this noble adult was attempting to shelter its chick from the elements.

But when the winds settled down, the chick was ready to go again, and quickly pulled away from the warm embrace of its parent.

It paused for a moment, leaning in for reassuring touch before darting across the sand on its own. I can empathize with how I imagine the parent must have felt, left behind to watch its offspring cutting out on its own -- still needing protection and assurance, but also the chance to explore the world independently. No matter how much we want to, there's only so much we can do to protect our kids, and at least mine still has a while to go before he's charting his own path across the beach!

Favorite Photographs of 2017

2017 was an exciting year for me, though not as much for photography. We welcomed our first child to the family, and it has been so much fun being a new father. This, of course, has left my free time pretty limited -- though I did make a few pre-baby trips to Plum Island to look for piping plovers, and I had a chance to spend time with a small flock of sandpipers on our first trip with the baby to Southern Maine.

I enjoy reflecting on the images I've taken each year, and even with only a handful of photographic opportunities this year, I was still able to come home with a few noteworthy photos. I'm far too late to submit to Jim Goldstein's Annual Blog Project -- but it remains an inspiration for this yearly endeavor. Here are my five favorite photographs from 2017.

Plover parent and chick, Sandy Point State Reservation
This is perhaps my favorite of the year based on the context of my own 2017. While waiting for the arrival of my son this summer, I was able to get away for a short outing to look for baby piping plovers at Sandy Point State Reservation on Plum Island. Two years ago, I had a handful of very productive trips there and there seemed to be plover chicks all over the beach with some parents watching over as many as four at a time. Unfortunately, this was one of only three chicks I saw on the beach this year, and it was the single chick in the clutch for this parent. While it was disappointing to see so few nesting plovers, it was special to observe this parent watching over it's chick -- especially when I knew that my own son would be arriving soon. While humans have our own set of challenges as new parents, at least our babies aren't born mobile and running around on the beach evading predators from day one!

Running piping plover, Sandy Point State Reservation
On a spring trip to catch the sunset on Plum Island, there was a dearth of sandpipers around, but I did have a nice encounter with a handful of piping plovers cruising the tidal flats. It's always special to be able to observe a threatened species, and this particular adult gave me a lot of nice looks as it probed the sand looking for a late meal. They have such an interesting rhythm as they run in short bursts of speed before stopping on a dime, then running again. Here, this friendly plover was sprinting straight toward my lens (eventually getting within my minimum focusing distance before scurrying off in a different direction.)

Snowy egret in a salt marsh, Parker River National Wildlife Refuge
On my drive out of the refuge as the last of the sun's rays were slipping past the horizon, I saw this lone egret working the salt pannes of the Great Marsh. Wetlands are by far my favorite ecosystem, and yet I've struggled to create many meaningful images of them. This one came together nicely for me -- with the low golden light, a beautiful white bird causing waves of ripples, and the lush greens of springtime salt grass. Taking in a scene like this with a deep cleansing breath is food for my soul.

Harsh realities of being small, Sandy Point State Reservation
The wind was really whipping on this trip. My face was scoured by sand while walking along the beach, but when going down to ground-level, I could get an even stronger feel for how tough it must be to live in this harsh coastal environment. I was able to create a series of interesting images with the sand blurring out the scene, and the plovers finding any small shelter they could on the beach. But in this one, the steadfast strength of the small bird pushing forward into the driving sand speaks to me.

Backlit sanderlings, Ogunquit Beach, Maine
We took a weekend trip to Southern Maine in the fall to introduce my son to the coast. He had a blast on our afternoon visit to the beach, and I sincerely hope we're able to pass to him our love of the coastal environment. The next day, my wife graciously made me get up before the sunrise to seek out some shorebirds. I took a long walk along Ogunquit Beach with the rising sun and found none. Then, as seems to happen far too often, as I was nearly back to my car the birds were hanging out in sight of the parking lot! The contours of the beach and rising tide limited my ability to get a good position with the sun over my shoulder without getting soaked. But the birds were extremely friendly, so I tried to make the most of the situation. I attempted some more stark backlit silhouettes with reflections in the wet sand, but this composition worked best in a fleeting moment when a cloud passed over the sun.

Thanks for taking a look through my favorites from the past year, and all the best to you for 2018!

2016 Favorite Photographs

It's been about a year since I last posted on my blog, and I never intended to let it go that long. Jim Goldstein's Annual Blog Project is a great inspiration to get back on into the swing of it, and an opportunity to review my photography from 2016. This last revolution around the sun was a busy one for me, and it included just a few opportunities for photography. Thankfully, a move out of the city center has helped to keep me feeling connected with nature, with my morning dog walk taking place along wetland trails. The main chances to exercise my photographic creativity came during a week-long trip back out to California with a few days reserved for photography in Point Reyes National Seashore, as well as our annual weekend in Acadia National Park. This certainly wasn't a banner year for my photography in terms of volume, but I returned from these trips with a handful of interesting images to share. In no particular order, here are six of my favorites from 2016.

First light over the fog from Cadillac Mountain, Acadia National Park
The fog was pretty regular throughout our August trip to Maine, but we still decided to attempt to catch one sunrise from the summit of Cadillac Mountain. I'm amazed each year at how many other tourists are up early filling up the parking lot as well!

Tule elk cruising through the fog, Point Reyes National Seashore
Spending a few days back in Point Reyes with nothing to do other than focus on hiking and photography was food for my soul. Even though I was there in mid-July, the tule elk rut appeared to already be starting in the Drake's Beach herd.

Quail on a branch at sunrise, Point Reyes National Seashore
California quail are always a favorite subject of mine, and I caught this handsome male watching over his covey along the trail to Abbott's Lagoon. It was a surprisingly clear morning in the park, offering some delightful pastel colors instead of the more traditional overcast gray of the fog.

Curious American avocet, Don Edwards National Wildlife Refuge
The chance to see these stunning shorebirds is definitely something I miss on the east coast, so I spent a morning at Don Edwards National Wildlife Refuge on San Francisco Bay. I took way more images than I've had time to look through of avocets elegantly moving through the salt ponds, but these old pillars added some additional interest in the morning light.

Last light and "alpenglow" in Point Reyes National Seashore
I've written many times about how I fell in love with Point Reyes while living in California, and I made an effort on this trip to try to step back and study the landscape in addition to just the wildlife. The hills, valleys, and pastures along Sir Francis Drake Boulevard have always caught my eye, but I never really found a perspective that captured some of that magic. This is perhaps as close as I can come, with the hint of "alpenglow" on the crest of the hills just as the sun was dropping below the horizon.

Fog rolling over the hillsides, Mount Tamalpais State Park
I scheduled one sunset of my summer trip to be on the western slopes of Mount Tamalpais to watch the fog roll in. I got there in the late afternoon while the fog was still offshore. I enjoyed some relaxing meditation until the fog crept over Stinson Beach and began its evening march up the hillside. It was a wonderful experience that would leave me completely shrouded in windy gray for my descent to the car, but offered some delightful abstractions along the way.

If you're interested, here are my favorite photographs from 2015, 2014, 2012, 2011, 2010, and 2009.

Thanks for reading -- and all the best for a happy and healthy 2017! Cheers!