Picture Stories

Sometimes the picture is just the beginning of the story. I've added some thoughts and titles to some selected images which provided inspiration that took me beyond the picture to describe more about each of these moments, the subjects and what they mean to me. A peek behind the picture into the mind of the moment.

There is Joy Beneath our Feet

There are certain areas in Point Reyes National Seashore where the gophers pop up frequently, directly in the hiking trail. Even though this area is swarming with predators (raptors, coyotes and bobcats mostly) you can almost always count on seeing at least one gopher pop up from beneath the surface, happily moving dirt and munching on roots and detritus. Depending on the time of year you may see many gophers along the trail, doing what gophers do, all teeth and cheeks, their whiskers full of dirt and even though they are aware of you and of the general dangers that lurk, they show little wariness in the wilds of their homeland. To get down low, laying on my belly, and watch them at eye level with sky behind their heads brings me great joy.

Bee Still #9

I have become exceedingly comfortable around bees, having previously been deathly afraid of them. Now, not only do I truly enjoy seeing all the different types of bees and other pollinators at work in my yard, but I also curate outdoor space to make sure they have food and beneficial habitat to enjoy year round. I love to watch them work. This is a recent shot of a honey bee that was gathering nectar and pollen from a redbud tree in spring. There were many types of bees and flies on this same tree, at the same time. Each of them was working independently, but in close proximity to one another, foraging in harmony. A particularly amusing moment between blossoms and directly facing the camera, the bee's arms open as if there were the potential of an incoming hug and I think to myself, "Hello friend, I'm happy you're here."

Love in Chartreuse

The reproductive migration of California amphibians has been severely impacted by habitat loss due to human development. In this particular pond, three important native amphibious species all congregate each spring and the reproductive cycle begins: the Pacific chorus frog (pictured), the California toad and the California newt. In the image, a pair of Pacific Chorus frogs in amplexus float among the algae of one of the only remaining ponds in an area that used to be a large wetland habitat and now is a baseball field on a College campus. Thankfully the ponds that remain have been protected, due in large part to the effort of science teacher and naturalist, Sharon Barnett, founder of the Cal Toad Crew. Every spring this area is overwhelmed with the incredible sounds of the frogs and toads, producing a volume which is extremely impressive and draws the interest and curiosity of everyone in earshot.

Imagine a Bird...

A chestnut-breasted coronet hummingbird drops from its perch in the Cloud Forest of Ecuador while my focus remains on the air plants it had just left behind. We are left with an image of a bird that is more like an idea of a bird than a photograph of a bird. This shot reminds me so much of a watercolor painting or a painted porcelain tea cup, it feels like a story about to be told. With the many sharply focused images I have of hummingbirds, there are few that feel like they offer the essence of the moment and the creature like this image does for me. If I imagine a bird, I imagine the thing that I can't quite focus on, but I feel its story move past me like a dream. I imagine this idea-memory-dream of a bird.

Smokey Bear

The very first polar bear that I saw in the wild, I witnessed through a fog of wildfire smoke. There is something about entering the wilds of the North, the residence of bears, a place where no roads go and seeing an animal that is so emblematic of the effects of climate change. Watching it move slowly through a smoky gauze. It wakes you up to just how bad things are. It was August of 2023 and although the Canadian wildfires were burning over a thousand miles away, when the winds changed, all of Churchill filled with the smell of smoke and an inescapable deep yellow haze. It had never occurred to me until this moment that every wild thing in the world had no masks, no indoors... no escape. Every wild thing in the world had no choice but to breathe it all in.

Scrutiny of the Red-eyed Lurker

Camouflaged in the bright light of midday, hidden amongst the leaves, two red-eyes slowly come into focus. The physics of my lens lets me see through the visual debris, clarifying the eyes that watch me from above and that I cannot see with my naked eye. A black-crowned night heron, hidden amongst the leaves, lurking silently and watching me closely as I stroll down a path. Birds are everywhere... often watching us quietly from their hides. It's good to remember that we are in their world as much as they are in ours. We share space from varying, sometimes wary, perspectives.

87 Decibels

A Pacific chorus frog calls out for a mate by first filling its throat pouch like a balloon. The resulting sound sends waves of vibrations away from its body and through the surface of the water and can create volume levels up to, and possibly beyond, 87 decibels. When a single frog makes this call it is a bit lazy, a silly sounding 'rib-bit'. But when the males gather together in the pond and all begin to call, the resulting noise washes over you like a wave and draws the females to the mating ground.

Native and Invasives

In the national seashore protected areas there is a constant battle between native and invasive species. There is also coexistence. In this image we have a native species, the coyote, as she makes her way through the thick purple waves of velvet grass, an invasive species. As usual, when I am taking pictures, I notice the beautiful colors and texture of the purples, reds, yellows and green, a palette that couldn't have been more beautiful if it had been painted by a master. This is my usual indicator that the plant life I am enamored with is almost always an invasive species, outcompeting the native vegetation that our ecosystems depend upon. According to the National Park Service, less than one percent of California's native grassland is still intact today.

Chorus of the Reeds

The sound from the pond is so loud that my husband has to walk away. Tinnitus makes the pitch and volume produced by these creatures virtually unbearable. I, on the other hand, love feeling completely absorbed by the noise. I can feel it in my body. It's coming from everywhere. People walk past the protected ponds and ask if you can see any of the frogs which are creating the pervasive din. I can see some, but they are hard to point out. Even though they are only a few feet away, they are so small and blend into the environment so perfectly that showing someone the exact position of one of them is difficult, if not impossible. Your eyes can easily move right over them without your brain recognizing you have just witnessed the tiny animal making the giant sound. This image is of one of the Pacific chorus frogs hanging out above the water in the reeds. He's been calling out to find a mate from this perch, like so many others of his kind on this warm, late winter afternoon.

Prey in Shades of Grey

As the sun is setting over the Ugandan savannah I can see a pair of spiral horns peeking out through the tops of the golden grasses moving gently in the wind. Manually focusing my lens I am able to discern the creature that is hiding there. A waterbuck munches on the grass that shrouds him from view and my camera has revealed him only to me. The light bending around each blade of grass softens the focus, making a gauzy mist that hides and then reveals elements of the animal with each undulation of the air around us. I barely notice that I am holding my breath as I see a catchlight in the eye come into focus and I push the shutter, willing the elements to coalesce as the light is dying. These are the moments I wait for, hoping luck, timing and skill is enough to capture the intimate feeling of an experience like this in nature.

Fox in the Rocks

An Arctic fox blends into the rocky landscape in Svalbard.
We had been watching this fox for many minutes. She was clearly curious about us, keeping watch and a very specific distance from us. She would dart along the shoreline, play and run over the mosses and lichen, hiding in and out of the rocks. Another fox joined in the fun for a game of chase and at one point an Arctic tern had had quite enough of them and accelerated a pointy attack after they wandered too close to a nesting area. The fox was constantly on the move, but if you didn't watch very closely it was easy to lose sight of her even when she was out in the open. Whether on the rocks or the lichen, her grey and white coloring hid her in plain sight. There were moments when I was looking right at her and I still lost sight of her. Much like this image, if you're not looking her right in the eyes, she simply disappears into the landscape.

Fox on the Rocks

Churchill Manitoba in the winter. At this moment a polar bear had just bedded down in the rocks behind us, an arctic hare sat motionless blending seamlessly into the snow dusted boulders and then this beautiful fox crested the ridge as the sun dropped completely below the horizon. It was freezing and windy... and one of the most beautiful and sublime moments in nature I have ever had.

Rushes of Thrushes, a Redbreast and Rain

It was a rainy winter and the American Robins showed up in droves. They played in the puddles and huddled in treetops. As the ground became saturated, worms and other tasty morsels came to the surface... snacks for the birds. And as the persimmons ripened the thrushes filled the trees by the dozens, a raucous crowd, feasting on fruit as the unrelenting raindrops kept a steady patter underlining the constant sound of birds.

Surface Tension

The sun was low and had just dropped below the horizon making the water look like liquid metal. At this time of day, the light can play tricks with your mind. Was it a shadow or an animal I saw out of the corner of my eye? These ponds are full of birds, but the shape I imagined I had just seen came from below the surface, not above. First one shape slides through the waves and then another. A head pops up and then two more. All in all it was a family of at least four otters moving through that liquid metal sunset. Predators from below peeking out and then disappearing again. Breaking the surface and then slipping away as though they had never been there at all.

The Littler Dipper

Amidst the whitewater rapids of a river high in the Cloud Forest of the Ecuadorian Andes, there is a tiny bird hopping along the rocks, in and out of water that seems as though it should obliterate this tiny creature at any moment. Instead the little bird continues to move from rock to rock, unwavered and at home in the rushing waters that surround it. Before this moment I had never heard of a Dipper, a drab and 'boring' bird by all appearances. But this tiny bird has a secret. It is anything but drab and boring. It is a pure delight to watch as it moves with deftness and confidence in an environment that should destroy it. Through rushing torrents that a larger creature would not dare to enter knowing that it would likely be taken to a watery grave. This is the domain of fishes and a few daring birds, the smallest of which is the Dipper. A Dipper that is littler than the Little Dipper, therefore it must be the Littler Dipper.

Windswept in the Willows

In Churchill Canada, the ice was later than usual and the bears were hungry. Even though they are the earth's largest land predator, they can appear very suddenly and surprisingly, essentially hidden in view. This bear was moving across a series of frozen lakes and took an unexpected turn disappearing into the willows. When she popped back out she had decided to come toward us. Surprise! Our guides were exceptional and always kept us safe, but it was shocking how quickly they could cover ground. They look like they are moving slowly, but their stride is huge! The weather was incredibly cold with whipping wind and snow... the polar bears loved it, but it was a bit much for us poorly insulated mammals. This year the ice was definitely behind schedule and the dates keep running later as the ocean temperatures continue to rise.

Lady Coyote of Abbott's Lagoon

Every once in a while a wild animal graces us with their presence in an extraordinary way. She first appeared on the opposite side of the water. We watched her make her way along the shoreline around to where we were. She approached, trotting, with almost no concern about our presence. We watched her navigate the dunes, hunt near the banks of the stream and then this coyote joined us for our wanderings at least three or four more times that day. She'd get closer, then move further away and then closer again.
This image always feels like a B-roll transitory moment in a western or Tarantino film to me, but on this day she truly was the central character in the story of Abbott's Lagoon.

Frozen in Time

A polar bear cub trundles through the snowswept landscape in near whiteout conditions. It is so overcast that I have no sense of time at all without looking at a clock. The weather makes the world feel like we're living in a dream: a limited sense of space, and time stands still. This little bear had just followed its mother through a clearing and I am reminded of the bear cubs we saw just a few months earlier in the summer. Two cubs had been following their mother and one of them kept falling behind. I wonder if that cub made it to winter. The wilderness is full of harsh realities, and serene moments of beauty. Often, both at the same time.

Beginning of a Murder

Some animals have found ways to thrive with human development and expansion while others decline. The American crow, like all corvids, are brilliantly clever creatures. They have found that humans provide convenient scavenging opportunities and they remain ever present in suburban and urban spaces throughout the world. This crow was watching from its wire perch above the sidewalk in my neighborhood. I could hear other crows, but this one was the closest to the street, keeping a watchful eye for opportunities and potential danger, cawing to communicate with nearby crows as to whether or not a mobbing was in order. I've always felt like crows are the heavy metal band of the bird world, a fitting tribute to our neighbors in Novato. The hometown of Metallica and kingdom to crows, whose gathering we refer to as a murder.