One new photograph, almost every day of the year


2020—Willet on South Padre Island

On a trip to Corpus Christi, Texas in November 2016 with Moose Peterson we spent time standing on jetties with our tripods and long lenses photographing shore birds on the jagged rocks. Late one afternoon on South Padre Island I watched as a lone willet explored rocks near the jetty as the sun was sinking low in the sky.


A couple of years ago in Churchill, Canada, a Willow Ptarmigan peeks out from behind a spruce in search of a female Willow Ptarmigan. It was June and he was in his courtship plumage.


This Northern Mockingbird, the state bird of Texas where I took this shot, doesn’t look much like a Mockingbird. It had just finished bathing in the intense heat of late spring in South Texas and it had flown to a branch to fluff its feathers and dry off a bit. It is more like a caricature than a bird. Its feathers look more like a fur cape with a stand-up collar than feathers. It is looking at me disdainfully. It is almost a mockery of a mockingbird.

2020—Gibbon Falls

Capturing a different look of an iconic view can be a challenge. This is Gibbon Falls in Yellowstone National Park. To get this look, I closed down the lens and set the camera to its lowest ISO to get a slow shutter speed. I used a long lens, the Nikkor 80-400mm lens so I could focus just on the water and exclude any of the shore. The resulting streakiness of the flowing water reminds me of a horse’s mane.


The Spanish word for Gannet is Alcatraz. Although there are no Gannets on the west coast of the United States, an island in San Francisco Bay was named Alcatraces (plural of Alcatraz) by Spanish Explorer Juan Manual de Ayala in 1775 probably because he mistook Pelicans on the island for Gannets. Years after its misnomer, the now shuttered infamous federal prison known as Alcatraz, once home to the likes of Al Capone and Machine Gun Kelly, was established on the island. Thousands of miles away from Alcatraz Island, on cliffs overlooking the Atlantic Ocean in Cape St. Mary’s, New Foundland Northern Gannets flourish in their nesting communities. Tens of thousands of the large birds congregate during the few months of the nesting season before returning to their life at sea. The birds have to look closely to figure out where their nest site and mate are on the crowded rock.

2020—Snuggling to Keep Warm

Bison in Yellowstone National Park are massive creatures. Their thick hides and dense fur help them withstand cold temperatures. I thought it was rather charming to see some of the young bison snuggling up to their mothers, seemingly to keep warm.

2020—Tiny Yellow Warbler

Warblers are small birds and the woodsy backdrop at Magee Marsh can make it hard to see them let alone get a clean shot of them. There are often twigs and leaves and branches that obscure the birds. This shot of a Yellow Warbler was unusal for me last year because there are no twigs or leaves in the way and the tiny bird appers even smaller with nothing to gauge its size.

2020—Grand Prismatic

Grand Prismatic in Yellowstone National Park is a surreal place. It is usually windy, icy, and slippery. On our visit this year, though, the relentless wind was gone. This visit, I wasn’t worried that a gust of wind would push me off the narrow walkway into the primordial ooze. I was able to appreciate and admire the stunning vistas it offers.


Great Blue Herons were everywhere in the Skagit River Valley last week. We didn’t stop to photograph most of them because they were not our target specie. But, a couple of times, a GBH presented itself in the right setting so I did get a few photographs of one of them.

2020–All It Takes Is One

Visiting the Skagit River Valley in Washington this past week was a challenging photography experience for me. I have been spoiled by my good fortune over the past several years to spend time photographing wildlife and landscapes with Moose Peterson. Moose always seems to find the best places so that those who shoot with him have the best opportunity for the best photographs. However, on this trip with Moose the weather dictated our photography experience. But, in the end, despite the adverse conditions, Moose’s experience and intuition helped us all achieve our main goal for the trip: To see and photograph owls, in particular Short-eared Owls, in their native habitat.

The weather was the guiding factor for our photography. The rain was non-stop, the light was flat, and the skies were gray, three factors that made our bird photography quite a challenge. The rain tends to keep birds in place so they are more difficult to find and therefore, more difficult to photograph. With flat light, the range of light is very limited and there are no shadows and little contrast. The gray skies are not appealing backgrounds for birds, either in flight or even on the water as the water tends to reflect the same gray skies and subjects are usually backlit.

Due to the conditions, we each took only a handful of photographs the first couple of days and saw our first owl on day 2. On our final day, with the skies still dreary and the rain unrelenting, we returned to the place we saw a Short-eared Owl the day before. During several hours, much of it spent standing in the rain or under the rear canopy of our SUV, we watched at least five and possibly six, Short-eared Owls hunting, sitting on the ground watching and waiting for prey, and fending off opportunist Bald Eagles. In addition to my goal of photographing these owls in their native habitat, the one photograph I wanted to capture was an owl in flight. And with guidance from Moose and a lot of patience, I did just that. The experience reminded me that all it takes is one photograph, something I have known but I needed a reminder.