Figure 1 – Semipalmated Plover, Goose Rocks Beach, Cape Porpoise, Maine. (c) DE Wolf 2015.

I have one more bird photograph to share from my recent mini-vacation in Kennebunkport, Maine. It shows a semipalmated plover – Charadrius semipalmatus  and was taken with my “big” lens. I love the plovers. They chase along the beach just at the surf’s edge in hunt for whatever is brought ashore. Like many such birds these plovers insist that you maintain an acceptable social distance. And this is not without reason. During the late nineteenth century they were hunted nearly to extinction. Happily the species has made a healthy return.

As for the name “semipalmated,” literally this means a plover with a partial palm. This refers to the fact that the bird’s toes are partially webbed together, creating what looks like the palm of the hand.

What I like about the bird in Figure 1 is that he is looking out to the sea and also the minimalism of the surrounding flotsam. We have a tendency to anthropomorphize and may wonder if he is contemplating the weighty issues of the universe. But I am pretty sure that he is only looking for his lunch and at the same time wary of aerial attack by raptors.

Canon T2i with EF100-400mm f/4.5-5.6L IS USM lens at 260 mm, ISO 400 Aperture Priority AE Mode 1/1600th sec at f/6.3 with no exposure compensation.

Figure 1 – Snow egret, Kennebunkport, Maine. (c) DE Wolf 2015.

We had just reached our vacation destination and stopped for lunch.  My son called me to take a look and there in the mudflats of the inlet was a beautiful snowy egret – Egretta thula. They are beautiful both in their wedding white plumage and in the way that they stealthily walk on the hunt. Needless-to-say I had not brought my big lens; so I had to be content with my 70 to 200 mm. the narrow heads and tiny eyes present a challenge, and the image of Figure 1 took a bit of processing to get it right.  But I like the white bird contrasted against the brown mud, the pure symmetry of its reflection, and also the little bubbles on the surface of the sand.

Beyond any doubt the snowy egret is one of the most elegant of the herons. It’s plumage is truly immaculate, quite a feat for a mud walker. But, of course, for a water bird feather care is essential for survival. At one time the elegant plumes were in high demand for ladies’ hats and fetched huge sums. As a result, the snowy was almost driven to extinction. Fortunately, in the early twentieth century, conservations managed to get legislation to protect this bird and it has made a wonderful comeback in eastern United States coastal waters. Like all herons there is something gloriously prehistoric in their design and locomotion.

Canon T2i with EF70-200mm f/4L USM lens at 200 mm, ISO 1600, Aperture Priority AE mode 1/2000th sec at f/8.0 with no exposure compensation.

Figure 1 – Ominous weather, Kennebunkport, Maine. (c) DE Wolf 2015.

I planned my July vacation right this year. I gave myself an extra day to “work up” images from the trip and even to find a few that I hadn’t really considered before. Part of the joy of a trip to the Maine coast is foul weather. You just don’t want all of it to be bad. But there is nothing quite so mood setting as a bad, rainy day or two by the sea. The image of Figure 1 I have entitled “Ominous weather.” That particular day was alternating sunshine and spot showers. The clouds were always there, hanging over us or at least in the distance. At one point we went to the beach and looking out over the ocean we could see showers in the distance, great columns, over the water.  It was really beautiful and inspiring.

The photograph of Figure 1 is of Dock Square in Kennebunkport. There are very ominous clouds and a bright stormy sky silhouetting a weather vane – storm’s a-brewin’. The giant masts of a tall ship hover in the background. One key to this image, for me was a little dodging to make certain that the shingles and the roof were just visible and not lost in the blackness – this is the meaning of dynamic range.

Canon T2i with EF70-200mm f/4L USM lens at 122 mm, ISO 1600, Aperture Priority AE mode 1/4000th sec at f/7.1 with no exposure compensation.

Wonder and the sphere, Freeport, Maine. (c) DE Wolf 2015.

To begin with the simple facts, I took the photograph of Figure 1 at the L. L. Bean Riverbed Aquarium in Freeport, Maine. They have a plastic sphere, where you can stick your head into the tank, and the photograph shows a young boy doing just that. But here the magic begins because you can see both his delight and wonder. I took several images of the orb, but this was my favorite because of the expression on the boy’s face and the way that he points at the fish.

Part of the appeal to me of the subject is the subliminal meaning of such a sphere. There is the magic to the sphere, a collective mythic connotation. I return to Anne Brigman’s “The Bubble, 1909.” The bubble is the egg from which we all emerge into the river of life on which we must all journey. We are also reminded of Leonardo’s Salvator Mundi (Savior of the World), where the Christ holds in his hand a crystal orb, representative of the cosmos or the universe. No matter how profoundly you want to take it, a sphere is magical and symbolic of wonder.

Here the light explodes outward outward from the sphere. The light reflecting and refracting off multiple surfaces creates a myriad of planes in the photograph. This is similar to my image from Saturday “Double selfie in a store window.” The fish is only dimly lit, but the sphere is gloriously illuminated. Light is seen to emanate from it. And if you look very closely and try to sort it out, you see spheres within spheres, just like the celestial spheres of the ancients.

Canon T2i with EF70-200mm f/4L USM lens at 70 mm, ISO 3200, Aperture Priority AE mode 1/640th sec at f/4.5 with -1 exposure compensation.

Figure 1 – American black duck. Kennebunkport, Maine. (c) DE Wolf 2015.

The great British painter J. M. W. Turner (1775-1851) was a greater believer and artistic practitioner of the power and magic of combining light and water. Indeed, during the history and development of his life’s work the combination of light and water slowly but irrevocably became the dominant force, as if in recognition that light gives life both figuratively and literally to the water.

This past Friday I was walking across the bridge at Dock Square in Kennebunkport, Maine when some American black docks – Anas rubripes caught my eye. they were in a bit of a frenzy as someone was throwing bread crumbs to them. There was a lot of quacking as ducks fought for the prized delight and new groups of ducks raced to join the feast. In the center of town, at least at this time of year, the black ducks appear to be dominant.

I was drawn to photograph these duck because I visually liked the scene. But it was not until I worked up the images that I realized completely what had so appealed to me. It was the reticulated pattern of swirling light and shadow on the water that resembled oil on water and created a complex but visually compelling background.

Background is of course a very key element of bird photography. A picture is often killed by the lack of a good background. But when you are lucky enough to have it, it can be truly magical.

Canon T2i with EF70-200mm f/4L USM lens at 200 mm, ISO 1600, Aperture Priority AE mode at 1/800th sec f/7.1 with no exposure compensation.

Figure 1 – Common eider duck (female) Kennebunk Beach, Kennebunkport, Maine. (c) DE Wolf 2015.

I spent part of yesterday trying to photograph Common eider ducks – Somateria mollissima – off the Maine coast. These birds like to maintain their social distance, and who can blame them. There are stores at the nearby malls in Maine that feature pillows, comforters, and ski parkas stuffed with eider down. These are diving ducks and it was fun to watch them deliberately dive beneath the surface only to re-emerge a few minutes later with a fish in their moves. They then make a curious move, thrusting their fronts end out of the water and straightening their throats so as to swallow the fish whole.

The bird in Figure 1 is most probably a female. The males are dramatically black and white.  There were several males on a larger rock island, but these were too far off to capture clearly with my camera.

I am still studying the ins and outs of my big lens. I shot here very fast at f/6.3 or f/7.1, which appears to be the sharp focus sweet spot. It is remarkable how, even with a monopod, how hard it is to keep still long enough to set the focus on a distant bird. I need to explore using a tripod instead.

Canon T2i with EF100-400mm f/4.5-5.6L IS USM lens at 360 mm, ISO 1600, Aperture Priority AE mode 1/2500th sec at f/7.1 with +1 exposure compensation

Figure 1 – Double selfie in a store window, Kennebunkport, Maine. (c) DE Wolf 2015.

The great mythologist Joseph Campbell spoke of the hero’s journey and how everyone’s life is  a quest for the meaning of self.  Is it possible that the now ubiquitous selfie is not merely narcissism but an expression of that inward journey that takes you outward? That is kind of how I see the image that I took on Friday at Kennebunkport’s Dock Square, which I have simply entitled, “Double selfie in a store window.” There I am as a reflection both in the window and in held in the magic of the convex mirrors. I have been coming to the spot where I took this photograph for close to thirty years, and it does not take much to push me into Twilight Zone mode, where I wonder if the person down the tunnel of the convex mirror is me toady or me 25 years ago. There are so many conflicting reflections and there are so many sources of light, from inward light of the sun to the incandescent light of the lamp. I use the word conflicting because with the exception of the lamp base itself it is hard to sort out what is what, just as our lives are composed of a myriad of thoughts, memories, and events.

Look around you. Everyone is on their cell phone. Campbell has taught us that”

Figure 1 – Black cohosh at the Assabet Valley Wildlife Refuge, July 2015. (c) DE Wolf 2015.

OK, so it is the middle of July and time to get out in the woods.  My son and I when on a hike Wednesday through the Assabet Valley Wildlife Refuge. Straight off, at the Rangers’ Station I spotted the striking white flower of Figure 1 set off against the siding of the station. It is rare that I photograph flowers, but this was so gorgeous that I made an exception.

I am pretty sure that it is black cohosh (all you botanists out there, please correct me if I am wrong) – Actaea racemosa aslo referred to as black bugbane (the bugs were a bane to me on Wednesday maybe I should have swatted them with one of these stalks), black snakeroot, or fairy candle. It is on the endangered species list.

The roots and rhizomes have long been used medicinally by Native Americans to treat gynecological and other disorders, including sore throats, kidney problems, and depression.  Black cohosh is used today mainly as a dietary supplement marketed to women as remedies for the symptoms of premenstrual tension, menopause and other gynecological problems. It was originally thought to contain estrogenic compounds, but this now does not appear to be the case. And I just thought that it was a beautiful white flower. Go figure!

Canon T2i with EF70-200mm f/4L USM lens at 70 mm, ISO 400, Aperture Priority AE mode, 1/160th sec at f/7.1 with no exposure compensation.