Thursday, November 4, 2010

The Perfect Pose

 

Over thirty different exposures of this Blue Heron were made as I crept closer and closer to him from below in the kayak.
After about thirty, the camera quit working. Memory card full. A sign that enough is enough. Yet, upon inserting another 2G card, continued photographing. When all look good to me, what pose does one choose? It would be nice if the Heron could view and choose.
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Mallard Ducks of Itchetucknee

 

Each bend in the river, the wood ducks would remain just out of reach. Like a covey of quail, you would be startled by the flurry of their wings as they flew just ahead. On the return trip upstream, I rounded the bend, and there they sat, posed upon the branch. I had just enough time to quickly compose a photograph before,as they had all day, fly just ahead in wait.
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Enter the White Heron

 

Quicky I dropped the paddle, took up the camera and captured the flight of the White Heron.
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Blue Heron of Devils Eye

 

Nearer and nearer the kayak crept. Still the Blue Heron remained. How many photographs does one take before deciding, just stop and watch? Too many I fear.
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Tuesday, November 2, 2010

First on the Water

The Ichetucknee Springs State Park opens at 8am. This morning, I was at the North entrance gate at 7:59am with kayak.
I payed the honor $5 fee and parked. Unloading, I drug and carried the kayak and photo gear about a half mile to the launch site.
Getting in off the dock was tricky, but I took it slow and did not capsize. It was already warm enough for a tee so I strapped the pullover microfiber on the back of the kayak with the tripod.
Once underway, the going was slow to Blue Hole. Many stops were made as the yellow wild flowers and cardinal flowers were abundant.
Past Blue Hole the current picked up and by Devils Eye, it was quite swift. Time was spent at Devils Eye close to a blue heron who stayed motionless on the bank. The morning solitude was broken by a lone canoe, a small Bell Canoe Works paddled by a man named Don.
I asked permission to take his photo as he passed. He said he would like a copy and gave me his email.
I wrote it on the notepad before forgetting.
Alone again, i made it as far as Mill Springs, where I ate a banana and almond joys
for a snack. I knew if I went further, with the swift current, it would be a long paddle back.
I went up Mill Springs a bit, to see the source of the water falling, which was falling over a log, before heading back.
The entire time, I never found the type photo envisioned, lush deep blues with greens, but got a few decent shots.
One particular like was coming on the wood ducks before they flew. Two males were perched out of the water, with the females below.
Another was a white heron with the sunlight behind him with a telephoto blurring just enough the background.
Near the take out, I stopped for about thirty minutes as the white heron fished a few feet in front .
The sun would come and go, making a variety of lighting conditions.
I gingerly crawled out of the kayak to the dock, walked back for the car,

loaded up, came home, got Melanie, where we then went to vote.

Sunday, October 24, 2010

Come Homewood Come

Unto the mount I come
Bearing Olive branches for the Son.

Cast aside the earthly mirth
Sin has lost it's power
Enter in this new birth
Come! This the appointed hour!

Unto the Mount I retreat
Bearing aroma of pines sweet.

Proclaim today a joyful feast!
Join the Angelic host in song
Into the abyss falls the beast
Come! To clouds of witnesses strong!

Unto the Mount I bow low.
Kissing wounds with Myrtle boughs.

Repentance is granted today
The chains fall from thee
Quickly now! Ascend the Upper Way!
Come! The dawn breaks upon eternity.

Unto the Mount His Word bids me arise.
Come! See eternity swaying under palm strewn skies.

Saturday, October 23, 2010

Why Walk Ye

by John Clare

Whose eyes were those that came this way?
In shadows slant what creatures crept?
Where goes this path at close of day?
Why walk ye as others slept?

Where lurks the dew drenched denizens?
A shiver awaiting days warming light.
Twisting, turning, the never focused lens.
Why walk ye through blur of night?

On bent knee in worshipful dawning,
Images begin the flow of blending.
To the infant sliver of light drawn.
Why walk ye this path never ending?

From edges of bogs comes the dawn,
To my feeble, sinking side so near.
Eyes upon thousand eyes all alone.
Why drop ye thou single tear?