Changing Direction
King of the Forest
He burst around a bend in the trail, running full speed, and skidded to a stop 15 feet from me. Our eyes locked. His were wide and filled with fear. His sides heaved as his breath came in deep pants. He was soaked, dripping with water or sweat, I couldn’t tell. Long strings of drool dripped from his mouth as his antlers crowned his magnificent head.
It was obvious something had been chasing him. And I was in his way. He took two steps toward me and lowered his antlers a bit. I calmly said, “It’s okay. I’m not who’s trying to hurt you. Run on. Go fast.” He stopped, took a deep breath, and then leaped down the steep mountainside.
I stood there listening to him move through the woods and creek below. Maybe three minutes later, I heard dogs barking. As they came closer, I started yelling at them. Of course that did nothing to stop them. They were huge, black dogs and even though I caused them to pause, they doubled back and ran on. When they picked up his scent, they screamed their barks and crashed through the creek far below.
Fury arose in me. This is a national park. Hunting is illegal, so is running dogs through it. These dogs didn’t have collars, like the usual hunting dogs have that run through the park terrorizing wildlife. I don’t know what they were except hell-bent on catching the deer.
I was almost two miles from my car, so couldn’t help the deer by running back to call for a ranger. I hoped the eight-point buck outwitted the dogs. How I hoped that, for him and his potential descendants.
Even now, many hours after the encounter, I feel that buck’s fear–but more than that–I feel his strength and stamina, his defiance as he stepped towards me, and then his trust that I wasn’t his enemy.
When faced with a panicked, wild animal, I never know how I will react, but some higher part of me stepped in to connect with the buck. I didn’t have time to feel afraid. I had to reassure him that I was no threat…quickly…but encourage him to keep moving because whatever was chasing him was surely coming.
The experience awakened some strength in me that rose above fear. The deer and I connected profoundly in those moments. He gifted me with something I feel deeply in my bones, but I struggle to assign words to. I am wilder, stronger, smarter, wiser for the momentary communion with this king of the forest.
Remember the Light
When you gaze into the clear night sky, the perception is there is darkness and only pinpoints of light. But when you take photographs of the night sky, a fundamental truth is revealed: It’s mostly light. So much light!
I regularly set up my tripod and camera and program my remote to continuously fire 10 to 20 second shots until my battery runs out, I’m too cold to continue, or clouds arrive. By doing this with the correct exposure, I capture the rotation of the Earth. It appears as star trails…and planet trails…when I stack those images in Photoshop. Streams of light are the reality!
Even though life can seem really dark, when we look closely those pinpoints of light, glowing in so many hearts, they become like fireworks of love all over the planet.
When I stand under the firmament and gaze into the heavens, my life is changed for the better. Every. Single. Time.
Don’t think that because it looks dark, all is lost. Light is growing and continues to grow as we open our hearts and allow our lights to shine.
Great Night to Be Alive
As I laid on Earth, looking at the vast sky filled with stars, I realized it was the first time in my star gazing outings over the past year that I wasn’t monitoring equipment. I was taking in the beauty without distractions. Literally…breathing in the starlight, exhaling into Earth. Breathing in the sparkling meteors, exhaling gratitude into Earth. I was grateful my equipment was safely stowed so I could be present with life.
It was also the first night I had used only one piece of equipment. Usually, I have the SeeStar telescope imaging some galaxy or star cluster, my camera taking star trail images, and my iPhone on a little tripod taking images. All of this while ‘enjoying’ the beauty. And I absolutely love creating images…that’s my joy. But last night, I was trying a new piece of equipment I bought many months ago but hadn’t had an opportunity to use due to heavy cloud cover for so many months and then I’d forgotten how to assemble it and didn’t want to bother.
But I bothered last night and I’m in awe of what adding a star tracker can do to increase exposure time for astrophotography. And let me just say this: I love to play with camera gear…under starlight, underwater, with waterfalls, forests, wildlife. I simply love to play. With cameras. And light. And shapes. And sparkly shiny beings light years away. But sometimes it’s magical to remember why I am so passionate about photography and just be bathed in the beauty I’m trying to capture and share.
Three of us gathered for the Leonid meteor shower, for fast-moving meteors and fireballs, debris from Comet Tempel-Tuttle. Our viewing location is generally a madhouse of car lights but last night, we had it almost to ourselves. Peaceful, calm, cold and one fireball that was so amazing I yelled, Bravo!!, after its sparkling self evaporated above our heads. There were others…one incredibly fast faint one, other smaller ones, and one I didn’t see with my eyes but my camera captured it!
Even though there were clouds for a few hours, they added to the beauty of the images. I saw the clouds clearing, but it was getting colder and even with my cocoon of warm clothes, I knew my limit was approaching. As soon as I began disassembling the imaging equipment, the clouds finally gave way. I think their hanging around was my cue to put it all away and lay on Earth for grounding and communion with our planet and to open myself to the beauty of the firmament without distractions…except for the tingle moving up my spine from the cat call…which I swear was a mountain lion’s chirping call. We all heard it so it wasn’t my imagination. (It IS possible at the 5720 foot ‘remote’ location on the parkway…there have been paw print casts made from biologists years ago nearby…and it was not a bobcat).
As I was driving home, down the Blue Ridge Parkway, and then winding down Soco Road toward Cherokee, I thought…This was a great night to be alive! Stars, meteors, mountains…mountain lion? Just WOW!