nature: February 2008 Archives

It's been said that a wildlife photographer's greatest asset is not his eye, equipment or experience, but patience. And that in a nutshell is why I never even tinkered with making wildlife or nature photography my life's work. A cocker spaniel puppy has more patience. If a picture's not there in 20 minutes, I'm gone. Outa there. History.

Check fatali.com for Michael Fatali's exquisite scenic work, mostly from the U.S. southwest. Click on his images, click again on his field notes, and you'll see he sometimes waited four days for the light to be just right. FOUR DAYS! Dallastown's Cliff Beitel spends days looking just the right bird photo, and it shows in his amazing artistry. Once they see it, they click into 'artist' mode, and experience and equipment join in. Both of their links are along the right side of this blog.

As much as I love the outdoors, my work isn't going to be on Country magazine's cover anytime soon. Instead, it'll end up in a shoebox under my bed, just like everyone else's.

So, driving to Hanover, I spot two majestic swans swimming on Spring Grove's pond. Now, how can I miss?

Oh, it's easy to miss. I do it all the time.

When the weatherman got it right Tuesday night (some might say finally), Wednesday morning was a shining, glittering ice show. On trees, power lines, roads and sidewalks.

Is there a better way to show how much ice coated the area than to show birds trying to hang on to the ice-crusted limbs?

The problem, of course, is how to get the photos in the freezing rain without frying the mucho-expensive digital camera. A trusty WalMart plastic bag works as well as anything. Just tear a hole in the bottom, poke the lens through and stick your hands through the handles. It works. Chris at the Camera Center of York says he doesn't sell a 'camera raincoat' because he's never found anything that works for many different cameras, or any better, than a plastic bag.

It certainly doesn't look very sexy, but a plastic bag could be a cheap life saver for your camera. And digital cameras, it seems, 'fry' at the hint of humidity.

Former York Daily Record photographer par excellence, Kristin Murphy, has left sunny York to work for the Park City, Utah, Record. It's got to be a tough job. Ms. Murphy is an excellent skier, and she's living in the middle of The Greatest Snow on Earth (Utah's state slogan). 'Work' is certainly a relative term.

Like most skiers, Ms. Murphy probably skis for the excitement, the exercise and the adrenaline rush. I ski for the view from the mountain top. Or maybe to provide entertainment for real skiers going up on the lift who have applauded some of my more spectacular crashes.

This view is from Sugarbush, Vermont and the view is so amazing it almost makes you cry. Natural snow covers everything, including the mountains that go on forever. The van, where I left my sanity and my shoes, is a dot far below. The view is beautiful. Me getting down, on the other hand, is downright ugly.

Like a lot of people, I had always accepted the myth that robins left this area when winter came, and returned once snow ended. The fine folks at Nixon County Park corrected me, and said our red-breasted friends are indeed here all year. Not all of them, but some just head into the woods to find shelter from winter storms.

This robin was one of probably two dozen that descended on a lawn in Springettsbury Township. They always seem to have a quizzical look and this one might have wondered, like many of us, where winter went. Or when the snow will begin.