Here is a red-tailed hawk photo that I wanted to share.  It initially was spooked by my presence and flew off.  I trailed it to its next perch roughly 1/2 mile away and took things much slower this time.  After 15-20 minutes, it got used to me and I was able to approach close enough for some good shots; while it flew back and forth from its perch in search of prey.
























Shots from the Field - Horses

Thanks to Ev and Sherry for allowing me to photograph their magnificent horses. 
The playfulness of the horses and the fresh snow made for a memorable afternoon.








I will post additional photos of these horses shortly.



Humble Beginnings - Poetry

A few years will go by, and then for whatever reason I’ll be looking through some of the drawers in a seldom used dresser in our spare bedroom. The bottom drawer hold photos taken during my film days when I was first starting out. I’ll always chuckle to myself (or even outright laugh) at the “keepers” that I took back then.


My first:


Great blue heron – perched in a tree on an island at least a ¼ mile away.


Bald eagles - unaware at the time that my roll of film had already been exposed and I ended up with eagles superimposed on sailboats


Whitetail buck – my excitement warranted a trophy buck but it was just a spike buck, and of the two close-up photos I took the latter shows only the back half of the deer (entirely in the air) as it disappeared into the woods




My inexperience in photography though was no less than my inexperience as a woodsman, this poem comes from one of those hunts as a novice.


When I first started out I’d wander the woods

in search of wildlife great and small,

I knew so little about hunting deer

I’d be lucky to spot one at all.


Looking back I see now all the things I did wrong

you could tell I just had no clue,

my encounters were chance, not skill on my part

and becoming increasingly few.


Deep in the woods with dusk coming on fast

in my mind I can replay the scene,

I’d thought there was movement, but now there was none,

the forest was quiet and serene.


There off to the left it looked like a deer

in the darkness I just didn’t know,

with painstaking slowness I turned towards that spot

and remembered my camera below.


To lift it up and press it to my eye

took several minutes or more,

I studied it close still frozen in place

suddenly I knew, I was sure.


It wasn’t a deer, just the stump of some tree

I’d been fooled in days waning light,

it looked real to me and I’d stood so still

too afraid that it would take flight.


Ten minutes at least I’d been motionless

not wanting to scare off that tree,

I smiled to myself, it had still been good fun

even though the joke was on me.


I lowered the camera, I must head for home

it was time to call it a day,

imagine my surprise when I made that first move

and I watched that “tree” bound away.


The Pounce - Poetry


Waiting, watching, stalking,

intently focused on the prize.

Waiting for the right moment,

nothing moving but the eyes.


One slow, soft step. . .

and then another one.

More than a whisper in the grass,

could spoil all the fun.


Rigid, poised, alert,

muscles tensed in preparation.

A slight tremor can be seen

barely contained anticipation.


And then in one,

exploding action.

It’s all over,

a second's fraction.


The photographer relaxes,

his muscles, his grip.

Eyes still alert,

Shutter again about to trip.

Waiting, watching, stalking.