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A few days ago I was out photographing a photographer and he stopped along a remote gravel road in Lincoln County, near a small portion of wetlands where he knew some birds would be hanging out.  He was using his iPod to call in some Savannah Sparrows that he wanted me to shoot but ever since trying out his 7D and his 500, my enthusiasm to capture birds has subsided.  It feels ridiculous to try and photograph those beautiful creatures without the proper equipment.  Even though I've done it well a time or two.  

He called over a sparrow and I took a shot or so but didn't like the background or the sage it was sitting on.  What had gotten my attention was this old, abandoned house that sat a little behind us and off in a field.  I stretched my 80-400 out to its max, turned in my seat and focused on the composition that my brain saw.  There was the sun shining bright on the white building, the old tree without leaves, and the dry grass left over from winter.  The barbed wire hanging loosely on the the old posts and sticks that once separated the house from the field and running haphazardly, capped off the image.  I was most attracted to the bland, gray sky behind the old house and the way that it set off the mood of a time forgotten.  I knew that this would be a black and white photograph when I took it into Photoshop for processing.

When finished with this image it tugged at my emotions and then I knew it was my vision, the one that I meant to make.

The photographer asked, "what are you shooting?"  

"That old place behind us, I'm attracted to the light that is falling on it."

I'm not sure if he saw what I did, he didn't say a word.  I felt somewhat self-conscious about taking the three shots but it was my vision and that is what I'm seeking to find.  He is a fantastic photographer and I admire his work a great deal, but I don't want to copy it.  I want to discover what it is that pulls at my heart strings.

Photo Stalker at Git Lit by Deby Dixon

My schedule said that the "Get Lit" high school poetry performance was at the Kress Gallery in Riverpark Square, but when I arrived no one was there.

And so, while standing around and waiting, I decided to play with the light and forms in the dark space but when I took this practice shot, this woman came around the corner.  She hissed at me when she passed me in the hallway.

After a trip down to Aunties Bookstore, I discovered that the event was actually scheduled at the Empyrean Coffee Shop, somewhere downtown.  No, actually, they gave me the location but I drove around in a few circles before arriving here quite late.

The Empyrean is no where close to Riverpark Square so imagine my surprise when outside shooting the sidewalk activity and the mystery woman showed up.  She saw me, backed up, whipped out her camera, hid her face behind the wall, aimed and shot.  I never saw the little red light go off so am not sure if my stalker hit her mark or not, though, when I went inside she was still trying to shoot me through the window.  We all know how those shots turn out, sometimes they do and sometimes they don't.  I did not like having that camera shoved in my face.  She never said a word to me.

Back inside and looking for the love...

But the sex that these youngsters talked about in rhyme was anything but the stuff made of love.  There were a lot of issues and their poetry attempted to answer their own questions.  I found their poems interesting and graphic.

I turned from the performers to capture the reaction of the parents and the older set of spectators, many of whom were younger than myself, and noticed some grim faces.  Not sure how I would have reacted if one of the teenagers had been my child but would like to think that I would have celebrated their ability to be open and honest about the issues.

And, New York performer, Jon Sands, spoke about another type of sex and his younger years.  

It was much later than this by the time that I left, which was probably past my bed time, or would be if I were a typical older person and not a college student, but this was the only parting shot that I got.

I think that I need to get out after dark more often.

Scott, the Waterfowl Shooter

Scott Fink and Canon

I met Scott at Higgins Point in Coeur d'Alene, ID, last winter when a large group of photographers were out there shooting the Eagles during the Kokanee spawning season. Not sure how many shooters were out there, most at every opportunity that they had, but there was a lot of talk about cameras, lenses, shutter speeds, ISO's, backgrounds, angles and the such. And, as one might expect, a lot of good natured jabs being tossed around.

I was one of the few Nikon shooters living here in Canon country and they never let me forget it.

"Nikon, Nikon..." could be heard in a chant when I arrived.

The day I met Scott, I'd parked me gear away from the crowd but after a few eagles had done some pretty little dancing near me, the guys on the other shore began packing their gear and heading my way.  Mostly, I ignored them.  For a while anyway.  Before long there was a long line of Canons behind me, at least 20' behind me, which I found to be amusing.

Finally, I broke the ice, "What, you guys intimidated by this Nikon?"

Of course, they laughed and from then on I was a part of the gang.  Many of the guys were helpful with shooting tips and Scott and his friend, Tom, were two of them.  Now, I've never seen Scott's photos because he doesn't have a website, a fact that is mildly irritating - oh wait, I did see a pic of a moose in his front yard, which he called a "big bird," - but he shoots for Ducks Unlimited.

I took some shots of Scott and Tom while we were out with the eagles on a brutally cold day.  Scott later told me that they'd decided that I was a player because I was out there in snow, rain and cold.  I'd call it a bit insane.  Anyway, I wasn't happy with the shots so when Scott showed up at Fernan Lake last week, I once again invaded his privacy and took shots of him.  He minded a little bit but probably got over it.  I told him that it was all to further my photography education.  We were at Fernan to capture the Osprey, and whatever other bird crossed our paths.

These are some shots of Scott practicing his passion of nature photography:

Scott hoping that the Buffleheads would come back

Rushing to Shoot the Birds

Shooting the birds

Chimping

Bad Sun, Time to Pack it up and go Home

That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Deby Dixon

Walt, the Fisherman by Deby Dixon

Another photographer phoned and told me that the Osprey were "hot" out at Lake Fernan in Coeur d'Alene, ID, which is only a mile from my house. And here I thought that I'd be trying to squeeze in an hour drive in the morning before class, going in the opposite direction, and, of course, trying to make it to school in time. Before the call there were no other options - I had to go. Birds, water, fish had been stirring in my blood for days but the hassles with Adobe (still not resolved) kept me angrily in my chair, behind my desk and on the iPhone. I had to go.
This adventure was not going to be without setbacks. Gear cleaned, some snacks put together, the dog begging to go but knowing he will not and no keys. I searched high and low, the frustration flowing in my veins, but nothing. I got it in my mind that they were still in the car, locked in the garage and of course there was no spare key. My landlord was busy and so was my best friend, who, months ago asked to keep a key because she feared my absent-minded photographer syndrome. I sat at the computer and did my taxes and even put the form in the mailbox. And then I stuck my hand into my jacket pocket, which I'd been wearing the whole time, and there they were! This maturing stuff is for the birds.
Finally, I'm at the end of the lake, after passing a myriad of fisherman sitting beside the road and getting their lines wet. I parked. Two photographers were set up on a dream shot of a Great Blue Heron but just as I was heading that way, it flew. Geese were shooting back and forth and one was trying to get inside an owl box, presumably to make its home in there. That was funny shooting. Bored I wandered down the street and came across Walt, the fisherman.
Walt had countless Fenwick fishing poles, an old red pick up truck, a white bucket and a corn cob pipe. His weathered face and that pipe protruding from his lips, framed by the sun on his other side simply begged to be shot. Walt fishes on Lake Fernan every day, until they begin to put more water into the big lake. And, no he did not mind being photographed, he'd been in the newspaper four or five times.
"Is that because you are a character with a corn cob pipe?" I asked him.
He laughed. "It's because I'm out here early and those guys seem to start first thing in the morning."
"The vultures."
Walt was a cooperative subject, not looking at the camera too much, putting on a show without asking, great colors in his old worn out sweater and lighting that corn cob pipe. I enjoyed our interaction quite a lot, which is saying something for a dedicated birdwatcher like myself. I'd even let a few osprey fly on by. And, let me tell you, that fisherman has a good story!

My Moment with a Western Meadowlark

Speaking of following the birds, desperation to get out of town and find some feathery creatures overwhelmed me during another of those tumultuous weather days and I drove to Sprague, WA.

While there were more birds than back at home in Coeur d'Alene, the light was awful and the wind nearly blew me over. Determination to capture something! A Northern Harrier did an air dance in front of me for nearly 30 seconds but I was so startled that he was long gone when I was still fumbling with the ISO settings. One thing about the wind, the birds take advantage of of their ability to be carried without much effort and so the Harriers and the Gulls were putting on quite a show.

I sat in my Nitro, near the water's edge and followed the graceful movement of the Ring-billed Gulls as they dove in for squiggly little fish. I was mesmerized by their movements and could have followed them around for much longer. Here is my favorite shot from that series:

As luck would have it, I happened upon a male Great Horned Owl that sat on his branch above me and alternately stared down or pretended not to notice. Unfortunately, the light and angle were difficult and I didn't get a sharp focus on him. But it was fun - and he was my first in the wild:

I did not get a decent shot of the Harriers, which was a shame because there were so many. But it was my moment with the Western Meadowlark that made the day. I kept hearing these birds all about me and would spot them just in time for them to fly off out of the reach of my lens. I was frustrated with photography and was thinking that I should just give it up and go back to writing. I was sharing my frustration with a friend, via bluetooth, while driving around and looking for a bird to shoot. The sun peeked out and I drove by a Western Meadowlark sitting on a fence post. I kept going because you know how those things go, stop and the bird flies. I kept thinking about his bright yellow breast against the late afternoon sun and couldn't get it out of my mind and so turned around. As luck sometimes has it, the bird was still on the post and didn't fly when I pulled up and stopped.

"Ooh, a bird," I exclaimed over the bluetooth.

Sandy and I kept talking as the noise of the shutter rested between us. I concentrated hard to get the focus, and make sure it was in his eye. I adjusted my f stop, just to make sure, checked my white balance, shook a little. The whole time this was going on, I could barely breathe, yet our conversation continued. I changed to manual focus, just to make sure, not trusting my camera's auto focus, or my technical skills, and got set up just as the bird flew off. But, I got him.

It is always a tense moment when I transfer the photos to the Mac and look to see if there is one that is in sharp focus - not just any one, but a photo with an expression, a light in the eye, a bug buzzing by, or anything to make it different than the rest. I've yet to take the perfect photo - there is always room to stretch.

Photography School Begins

I haven't updated this blog in awhile because the words go through my head and I spend time working on the images and then time runs out. Plus, I've been frustrated with my lack of inspiration and the need to sharpen my skills. And then there is the part of me that would like to load up into the travel trailer and start following the birds now. I want to go everywhere and see every bird all at once.

My first inclination is to start traveling and my second one is to take the steps backward and strength my foundation before moving forward with my dreams. Besides, they aren't completely defined or set in stone. The part of me that wants to shoot wildlife, or birds, and the part of me who wants to capture the human experiences of hard times, joyful moments and all of the seconds in between. I am torn between the journalism/documentary side of photography and the capturing of the wild and beautiful. It is my belief that my focus will narrow and become sharper as I continue this road of learning and discovery.

So, today was my first as a full-time photography student. I drove the 45 minutes to school and found that I was registered for two classes at the same time and that it wasn't going to work. I couldn't find my classroom and the whole college scene might as well be happening on another planet. It has changed that much. We learn and participate as much on the computer as we do in person - some of that personal touch is gone. I will be stretching me and what I can capture with my cameras. That is scary. Where did I get the idea that I was supposed to know it all, even before the class starts? That is insane sort of thinking!

I left school feeling a bit overwhelmed and scared. Fear stunts my growth and so I tried to shake it off. Fear drives away my passion and so I dug deep in search of it. The day had been filled with dark and dull clouds, rain, snow and hail, all without much light. But, as I drove the freeway back to my little town, a snowcapped mountain emerged from heavy cumulus clouds that spread into blue sky, which quickly sand into the dark and ominous. Bubbles of light were popping up all over the sky and landscape, often quickly shadowed by the dark. I felt the stirring and the longing and realized that I haven't been here long enough to have identified places to shoot. So, I went to the water and the birds. I shot until the sun sank behind those storm clouds and then went home to throw grass seed on the barren earth, wash the dishes, fix something to eat, sweep the floors and put fresh sheets on the bed. I'll never have it all done and be completely ready for what lies ahead. Things will have to be set aside.

My mind went through the list of what needed to go and decided that social networking and blogging were out. And then I looked at the syllabus for tomorrow's class and discovered that having and maintaining a photography blog was part of the outline. Well, I could fight it or get a head start, though it probably won't count. So, here I am, updating my photography blog, which in and of itself isn't well defined but maybe that will change. Secretly, I'm relieved to not be setting aside the writing and documenting of my experiences - perhaps this will restructure the way in which I do it.