Western Diamondback Rattlesnake

I visit the Wichita Mountains Wildlife Refuge frequently; I’m somewhere on the WMWR most weekends throughout the year.  When I go, my Sawyer Snake Bite Kit is never far away and the photo above is the reason why.  Yesterday, I went to the WMWR late in the evening looking for two good places to make to totally different images.  One was going to be of the  sunset happening at 8:50 PM, and 293° WNW.  The other was going to be of the moonrise at 9:14 PM and 114° ESE.  My first thought was to check out Crater Lake for the moonrise so I entered the Refuge from Hwy. 115, north of Cache.  I parked in the parking lot and took a trail north up the west side of the lake.  There was a fisherman fishing off the dam and a family of geese swimming close to the western shore.  Every 100 feet, or so, I’d stop and use my compass to see just where the moon would rise in relation to the lake.  I had gone almost to the northern end of the lake before deciding I wasn’t going to get the picture I had in my mind.  It was only then I noticed the high number of dragonflies darting about around me.  It was still almost an hour before sunset so I took advantage of this opportunity and spent a few minutes stalking dragonflies.  I was really appreciating the fact I had my Sony 70-200mm, f2.8 zoom mounted on my A700, because of the working distance it allowed.  I was able to get a few shots and then decided I needed to get back to my Toyota truck and set about locating a spot for a sunset image.  Because I had wandered a bit stalking dragonflies, my first move was to locate and get back on the trail leading to the parking lot.  I quickly located the trail and was on my way back.  I was trying to keep distractions to a minimum so I could get back as quickly as possible.  This is difficult to do because photo opportunities are so plentiful on the Wichita Mountains Wildlife Refuge.  Anyway, I trekking down the trail, eyes straight ahead, thoughts focused on where I’m going next when I hear a faint noise that catches my attention.  I stop, listen, and at first think it’s an insect.  I cock my head in the direction of the sound, twisting to the right, bending down all at the same time.  As my face turns toward the ground I see the noisemaker and my heart skips a beat!  There I am staring right down at the Western Diamondback Rattle Snake pictured above!  And there it was looking right back at me!  I had already passed it by about a foot, so I quickly, very very quickly, skipped on down the trail out of reach of any impending strike.

Now, standing a safe distance away and both eyes and ears tuned in as rattlesnake detectors, I scan the surrounding ground making sure there aren’t any other Diamondbacks lurking about.  It took less than a minute to regain my composure and then my photographer’s need to “capture the moment” kicked in.  A plan was devised to circle back around to the west so the sun would be at my back and shining on the snake.  This plan took me off the trail, but I couldn’t go back up the trail anyway because that would have returned me into its striking range.  I circled around until I was casting a shadow across the snake and then I moved just enough to allow the light to fully expose its position.  I estimated the Western Diamondback to be about 20—26 inches long, so I maintained a distance of a good 6—7 feet.   Again, I was so glad I was using the 70-200mm f/2.8 lens.  Because the grass in which it was lying was so tall, the sun could not shine directly upon it so I found the best results would result from using my pop-up flash.  I was concerned the length of the lens would block some of the flash so I removed the lens hood, first.  Even then, I was surprised the lens did not create a shadow in the picture.  I was able to see the buttons on the snake’s tail and counted four.  I didn’t want to disturb the snake or cause it any stress so I did nothing more than take pictures.  After making several images, I knew I needed to return to the reason I came in the first place so I found the trail and hurried on to the parking lot.  But I tell you thing, for sure, my rattlesnake detection system was locked “on” for the rest of this trip!

"In Your Own Backyard"

Early spring is certainly one of my favorite times to live in Southwest Oklahoma.  It is especially so after the very destructive ice storm we had on January 28th, 2010.  Evidence of the damage from the massive ice storm is still very visible around the area.  Because of this, I was delighted to see the first sign of Henbit sprouting amidst the dead brown leaves of the bermuda grass and the green leafy curlydock.  I patiently watched as both the henbit and wild lettuce grew taller and taller.  The curlydock began providing a wonderfully rich green background and, already, I was making plans to capture images at the first opportunity.  An opportunity when the wind is not blowing too strong for macro work is rare during a Southwest Oklahoma spring day.  It’s even more rare when one occurs on the weekend when I can actually take advantage of it.  East Sunday was such a day, and rose before sunup and actually waiting patiently in my backyard to begin just as soon as it was light enough.  For the next 1 1/2 hours I had a great time, but even then, as time passed the breeze was gradually becoming more troublesome.  I had a great time in my own backyard until I finally conceded to the wind.

Snow and Ice at Osage Lake

It was the day after Christmas 2009, and two days since the biggest blizzard in over 20 years blanketed Southwest Oklahoma with amounts of snow varying from 2 to 8 inches.  Throughout the area, thin layers of snow lay alongside deep snow drifts, the results of 30-40 mph winds.  There was barely a breeze stirring today; the sky was blue and clear as far as one could see, and warmth from the sun felt so good!  The family had come to the Wichita Mountain Wildlife Refuge primarily to get out of the house but also to see the snow on the Refuge.  It was already mid-afternoon so we weren’t expecting to be the first footprints in the snow.  However, we were soon to be disappointed when we discovered that areas such as Boulder and Sunset had not even had their gates opened for access.  We may have been disappointed, but our intent to have fun was not thwarted.  Since we were in two vehicles, I led the group to the Treasure Lake – Post Oak Lake Area because I was confident we could get up the road and there were no gates to be closed, anyway.  Soon we found ourself out of the cars, enjoying the fresh air, the young bison grazing nearby on Indian Grass poking through the snow, and throwing snowballs at each other.  After a good time was had by all, and hands and feet were becoming uncomfortably cold, the family decided to drive to Mamaw’s house for a visit.  I opted to remain in the WMWR in search of interesting photo opportunities.  I was certain I could find some.After the family and I separated, they went one way and I went the other, I turned my thoughts to finding something that would capture this winter wonderland on the Refuge.  As I approached the turn-off to the parking lot at Osage Lake, I questioned whether I really wanted to make the near half mile hike on to the lake.  The first thing I noticed, after parking and exiting my truck, was that I was the first person put footprints in this snow.  I became excited about the prospects of being the first person to travel this trail, to be the first to see the beauty of GOD’s virgin snow on this landscape.  I estimated there was about an hour and a half of daylight left, as I took the first step down the snowy trail, backpack loaded with camera and survival gear snug against my back, my Sony A700 hanging off my right shoulder, and my tripod balanced over my left.  Wow, was I shocked when my  left boot disappeared from view as the snow rose to just below my knee.  I was glad to see this drift was narrow as evidenced by the bare trail visible only 10 feet ahead.  I gathered my balance together and trudged on.

After correcting a bad choice regarding which fork of the trail to take, and expending more energy than I wanted getting back to the correct fork, I finally approached Osage Lake.  The sun was beginning to get low in the western sky, casting long shadows and warm glow across the snow.  The banks of Osage Lake are primarily granite cliffs with limited access to the water’s edge.  The western cliffs were already casting long dark shadows across the thin layer of ice sealing entirely the surface of the lake in a thin layer of shimmering light.  Since my intention was to be making HDR (high dynamic range) images, I was excited by the prospect.  As it turned out I would have preferred more sunlight across the ice, but I’m not disappointed.  I like the overall result and I’m absolutely positive, I am the only person who saw was blessed to see this winter wonderland on Osage Lake.

Enchanted Tower

It had already been a magical morning.  The magic began shortly after sunrise as I rounded the curve that bent back toward the southeast taking me to the dam on  Lake Rush in the Wichita Mountains Wildlife Refuge.  The scene took my breath as the scene unfolded in brilliant colors in shades of reds, yellows, and greens.  “Thank you, LORD!”, I spoke aloud, even though there was no one else around to hear them; just He and I.  I continued to thank him throughout the morning as he showed me wonderful and glorious beauty.  I knew I was rushing against ever rising sun and it’s changing light.  I knew the wind was coming, as well, and understood this window was fleeting.  A feeling of urgency arose within and I rushed to gather my  equipment, locate the perfect place to set up and then to think clearly enough to  manipulate the controls and settings to capture the image not only seen with my eyes but felt in my soul.  My biggest fear was that after two days already spent on the Refuge, the planning, the preparation, and now the presentation would be lost because of mistakes I’d make and points I wouldn’t consider.  To minimize all possibilites, I focused, not just the lens, but my total attention to the task at hand.

The next two hours were intense as I tried to capture as much as possible before the sun rose higher changing the angles of the light and chasing the enchantment away.  I moved frequently trying to stay ahead of the sun and time.  Each moved revealed something new requiring a changes in method and technique.  I was oblivious to everything around me and yet, hyper-aware of all my surroundings.  Finally, with a deep sigh, relaxation washed over me and I knew the window was closed and it was time to leave.  I left with no regrets.  But, I knew there was more left to the morning if only I could find it.  I knew there was more He could show me if I wanted to see.Lake Jed Johnson is less than a mile from Lake Rush.  I wasn’t real hopeful of finding a similar magic like what I was leaving, but something compelled me to turn onto the road leading there, anyway.  This was going to be a hike and the pain from arthritis in my knees and lower back that radiates through my buttocks and down each leg was going to be a  ever present.  I knew it would be made even more painful when I added my backpack of camera gear plus my tripod to my already overweight self.  I said a silent prayer knowing that many people go through pain and sometimes really good things come out of it.  With that in mind and the anticipation of sights waiting, I set out toward Jed Johnson Tower.

I knew this was going to be a painful trek.  It isn’t far from the parking lot to Jed Johnson Tower, maybe 1/2 mile, probably a little less; distance really doesn’t matter.  I stopped many times to let the pain in my knees and buttocks ease off.  I strained to see something unique and colorful, but there really wasn’t anything, at all.  I kept pushing onward and upward as the trail begins to climb more steeply toward the Tower.  The last 20 yards of the trail is really steep and I stopped twice before reaching the summit on which the rock and mortar tower is built.  The view from the top came as no surprise.  I really wasn’t expecting any spectacular scenes.  I’ve been to the Tower many times before and my mind’s eye could not envision there being anything more than what I found; a scene almost remarkable for being so ordinary.  I rid myself of the burdensome equipment I lugged to the top and lingered for 30 minutes.  I wasn’t looking forward to taking to the trail again, even though it would be mostly downhill.  Descending is every bit, if not more, painful on my knees as ascending.  Knowing I couldn’t spend the rest of my days up there, I prepared myself mentally, strapped on my pack, secured my camera, hoisted my tripod, picked up my walking stick and took to the trail.

Most of the return hike would have the sun at my back.  I knew the sunlight shining through the leaves would produce more vibrant colors than light reflecting off of them.  As I went, I would look at the trail ahead but envision what it would look like if I turned around and looked where I’d been.  I would try to journey as far as my macho toughness would allow, which wasn’t very far, then I’d turn back to see what visions were waiting behind.  At first there wasn’t anything spectacular but later on the trail took a turn and changing direction only a little, changed the angle of the sunlight filtering through the leaves and suddenly the colors became vibrant.  I had no other choice but to stop, set up my tripod and attempt to capture the scene.  After feeling I had done all I could do, I’d return to the hike, travel a bit farther, stop to look behind and repeat the process again.  It was really great and I was enjoying every bit of it.  However, the trail turned again and the vibrant scenes turned flat.  At this point, I settled myself in for the remaining half of the hike.  The pain had become exhausting, and was now intense from the bottoms of my feet, deeply aching up through my legs, intensifying at the knees, continuing on through my buttocks and into my lower back.  Both shoulder joints, which normally aren’t too bothersome, were reminding me of their arthritic complaints, lest I forget.  How could I.  I was carrying a tripod atop one and had my camera hanging from the other.  Each step around a rock was causing pain in my hips, and every step down, pain in my knees.  Movement, in general, was a real pain in “buttocks”!    I had to begin setting small goals for myself; “I won’t stop until I reach that tree, or that rock, or that bend in the trail!”  This was working even though the stops were frequent and distances covered short.  I was getting nowhere fast, but then I was not in any hurry to get anywhere.  The Sooners weren’t playing until 2:30 PM, and I had plenty of time to be home by then.  Trudging along toward the northern bank of Lake Jed Johnson I saw a row of boulders put there by the refuge as some sort of blockade.  They were aligned along the shore, under the deep shade of trees, and just the right height to sit on comfortably.  They were my next goal; I was not going to stop until I reached them!

By the time I reached the boulders, I was realizing this last goal was rather lofty.  My legs were barely shuffling along.  My right foot was turning in with every step, and I was, oh so wanting to sit down.  As I shuffled past the first few boulders, because they were not flat topped enough for comfort, I spied the perfect one.  It was just the right height, very flat across the top, and in complete shade.  The only caveat were the two prickly pear pads sitting where I wanted to sit.  Someone, had placed them there causing me to wonder, “Why?”  I actually had the impression they were there to “mark the spot”.  I flicked the off to the side with my walking stick promptly sat down facing the lake; I didn’t even bother to remove my backpack.  Oh my gosh, it felt so good to sit down; something I hadn’t done since leaving the plateau on which Jed Johnson Tower stood.  For several moments, with eyes closed, I let my body settle, my tense muscles relax from the recent strain, feeling the cool refreshing breeze from the lake.  After what seemed like several minutes, I lifted my head, opened  my eyes, and once again whispered aloud, “Thank you, Jesus!”  The scene before me was nothing short of enchanting!  All the weariness and pain was gone!  I didn’t move.  I didn’t even stand.  I picked up my tripod and set it up in front of my where I sat.  I carefully leveled it, placed my camera atop, and began taking pictures, one of which is featured at the beginning of this story.  I don’t know if the image accurately presents the scene I saw at that time, or not. I am unable to look at it without the  feelings and emotions of that moment, as well.  I hope you enjoy it, and you can somehow appreciate message that goes along with it.  Sometimes, what is revealed at the end of a painful journey makes the trip worthwhile.  I still believe that this entire morning was orchestrated especially for me by Someone who loves me dearly!  “Thank you, Jesus!” 

Indian Grass Prairie

Native Indian Grass grows chest high on the plains of the Wichita Mountains Wildlife Refuge.  As a child I would walk through the grass, tracking rabbits by the droppings they left as they as they traveled well worn familiar trails.  Giving up on the chance of ever catching one, I’d lie on my back in the grass listening to the prairie wind, completely hidden from all the world except the red-tailed hawk circling in the thermals overhead.  I have heard early pioneer tales of prairie grass being as tall as a horse’s back and stretching into the distance as far as the eye can see.  A large section of Southwest Oklahoma was once called “The Big Pasture” because of the grassland sea covering 480, 000 acres.  These native grasses, as the swayed in the daily winds, and stretched to the horizon over the gentle rolling hills reminded the pioneers of swells upon the ocean.

Lace Cactus

This morning’s email from Amazon.com contained a list of the best books of 2009, so far.  I clicked the link and soon began looking over the selections.  The title that caught my eye, was “The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie”, by Alan Bradley.  I began reading the description with interest, all along wondering if it would be something Sherry would enjoy.  Following the description there was an interview with the author, Alan Bradley.  That’s when the “Aha” moment happened.  Mr. Bradley wrote this book at age 70!  He hasn’t always been a published author, although he stated he always thought he could write, even at age 5.  He went on to note, “Seneca, an ancient Roman author, had said something like this, ‘Hang on to your youthful enthusiasms, you’ll be able to use them better when you’re older.’”

These words were just the ones I needed to hear.  I don’t recall how young I was when I first had the awareness that I wanted to accomplish something more than I was capable of at the time.  What I can remember is that throughout most of my life I have a strong sense that there is something I want to say, but the how, what, and when has always escaped me.  I’ve been developing my photography in isolation for many years.  I’ve been interested in photography since age 16.  Other than the few years spent in my mid-20s as a professional working in and out of a studio, it’s just been me and my camera.  The time has never seemed “right”.  The support and encouragement has never been there, either.  However, I would never give up my “youthful enthusiasm” and perhaps one day, someday, beauty may yet burst forth, even from something as forboding and and threatening as the Lace Cactus pictured above.  I may become an old curmudgeon before anyone cares about my photos, but Alan Bradley gives me hope.

Independence Day has come and gone.  The only thing that’s ever the same is the Oklahoma heat.  What made this year’s Fourth of July rare was the rain.  It never rains on July 4th in Oklahoma!  Never, except this once, this year.

I was staying indoors this year, out of the heat, working like crazy trying to get Expression Web 2 to cooperate with PHP like it’s supposed to do.  I believe it’s just another example of how Uncle Billy, et al, keeps giving us software that doesn’t live up to it’s advertising and then doing nothing to fix it until there’s an upgrade he can sell to add another $Billion to his worth.  Anyway, I was busy as could be when I became aware of thunderstorms building northwest of Lawton.  The idea came to me about heavy ominous thunder clouds behind the mountains of the Wichita Mountains Wildlife Refuge and the bright July 4th sun to the south.  I pictured an extremely high contrast situation with the mountains in full sunlight and the thunderheads behind.  I couldn’t shake the images from my mind, so late in the afternoon I gathered my camera gear and headed to the WMWR.  I was soon disapointed by the realization that I was going to be about an hour late.  The thunderheads got to the Refuge first.  This is what I wound up with.  Not what I wanted, but it gives an idea of what could have been.