Nature Photography Archives

From Bog to Beach

By Simone Lipscomb | April 14, 2013

The crisp dawn air was a shock. What happened to spring? But soon the chill was forgotten as I found myself surrounded by carnivorous plants. The big, showy pitcher plant blossoms were obvious, but less so were the tiny sun dews that glistened in their dewy crowns. I wandered for over an hour allowing the light, plants and land to guide me.

Finding myself alone in such a unique ecosystem was surreal, but as I tuned-in to the energy of the plants I felt a tingle of dinosaurs and the cauldron of creation on this planet…so ancient did these plants feel. It was like taking a time walk through the natural history of the place before development and toxins and other human-created challenges faced these delicate, meat-eaters.

Overall winner of the race... — *Overall winner of the race…*

Then it was time to photograph runners at a very large mud puddle as they splashed their way through in the Jog the Bog run at Graham Creek Nature Preserve. Such an odd pairing of work. Documenting ancient, insect-eating plants at dawn and then humans as they slipped and tripped through a gigantic, muddy bottom. Both were quite fun.

And later, I visited my friend at her beach home and participated in our turtle team’s yearly training–in preparation for sea turtle nesting season. As the afternoon progressed, the sky became darkened with clouds and the Gulf began to draw me closer. I don’t know why storms draw me, especially considering my respect for lightning (having two very, intensely close calls with it will do that).

What an amazing area….pine forests, pitcher plant bogs and less than ten miles south, the Gulf of Mexico. These ecosystems, while different, depend on each other. Filtration and water holding is vital to a clean, clear Gulf. A strong dune system provides protection for inland areas. Wildlife, plant life, land and water share a connection that is part of a cycle of life. Freshwater, brackish water and salt water all creating different ecosystems yet part of a greater whole.

Wandering among carnivorous plants in a bog, communing with the Gulf and the clouds and shore reminded me of the interdependence of all life. As humans, perhaps we can learn from this amazing dance of connection, of being a part of the whole…as opposed to being apart from the whole.

Celebrating Life

By Simone Lipscomb | April 13, 2013

The sun illuminated the water of Perdido Bay a soft magenta…no pink…no purple as it set. It was a glorious expression of nature’s beauty mirrored in the sky, the water….in osprey’s acrobatics, pelicans diving skills and a lone loon as it made its way through the lingering light.

I was having dinner with a couple of friends from Wolf Bay Watershed Watch after our prep meeting for the Jog the Bog race tomorrow. We get to watch as runners navigate through mud holes and creeks. I get to photograph them.

But discussion didn’t stay on the event. We really just enjoyed watching the sky, water and wildlife.

As we sat and watched and chatted, my thoughts turned to a dear person who celebrates 60 years of life tomorrow. I couldn’t help taking a few photographs with my iPhone and sending them along from the dock where we sat. We haven’t seen each other for over a year and perhaps even when we lived closer we didn’t really see each other….not really. But I couldn’t help but think of him and hope he’s able to celebrate his life tomorrow…in some way…even in Iraq where he works and lives now. He so much deserves to reap happiness and joy after a long career in service to his community….in helping others.

As I took photographs, alone on the beach, I said a birthday blessing for him. Here’s to you my friend….may your day be bright and this next year bring many blessings to you.

Happy Birthday Ray from Charlie, the Pirate's Cove Mastiff Mascot — *Happy Birthday Ray from Charlie, the Pirate’s Cove Mastiff Mascot*

The Wild Wind

By Simone Lipscomb | April 12, 2013

As I walked through the neighborhood this morning, wind was gusting outrageously. I was listening to music on my iPod and it seemed to match the intensity of the dancing tree limbs. I’m not sure any other element so profoundly calls me to embrace the dance of life.

Wind is changeable, powerful, gentle, destructive, cooling, warming….it announces storms before they arrive and kisses the cheeks of babes. As I was getting my nature time and cardio in during the pre-storm gusts, it called me to answer its power with my own inner power. Several times while walking I raised my arms and opened my hands to the sky. It felt like an affirmation of life, a big YES to the Universe. Thank goodness our neighborhood is mostly trees with only a few homes. Only the squirrels managed to glimpse my display of…of… WOO HOO!!!

Later I sat inside and watched the oak trees sway from my second story office window. Limbs and branches were highly excited and even the trunks were moving in their slow, steady back-and-forth shuffle. How amazing to witness the power of wind. It calls me to remember the wildness within and free myself to flow with life.

Love’s Grooves

By Simone Lipscomb | April 8, 2013

Each morning, as I walk my SUP board to the small river beach, I greet a beautiful, old cedar tree that stands on the bank. Its gnarled trunk is scarred with places where limbs used to be and the deep fissures in the bark invite my fingers to explore them and touch the texture with gentle regard.

This morning after paddling I walked my board up the trail and felt a gentle nudge from the grandmother tree to come back and visit. After settling my board on the grass, I returned and placed my hands on the trunk and looked up. What a massive tree, soaring far into the sky. Usually I see only the section I pass by, rarely stopping to notice the entirety of the tree.

We do that to ourselves and others. We focus on one small part of ourselves…normally some behavior or personality flaw we don’t particularly like…and obsess about that. Or with other humans we see something we don’t like and dismiss the person without taking time to view the whole person and their many good qualities.

If I only looked superficially at the cedar tree I might say it has a lot of scars and bumps and imperfections. But when I step back and gaze at its entirety I see such magnificent beauty and oddly enough, it is the flaws make it beautiful.

In my first book, Sharks On My Fin Tips, I wrote a story about my grandfather and the depth of love’s grooves worn into our hearts by those we love. In taking a moment to visit the tree today I thought of that quote. People, wildlife, oceans, rivers, bays…all the things I have loved in my life have made an impression on me. There may be scars but mostly the memory of interacting with loved ones–people and animals–and wild animals and places has worn beautiful groves into my heart, that will remain forever.

Like the cedar tree’s beauty, our beauty comes not from perfection but from the imperfections we grow through and overcome and the impression love makes on our hearts as we risk opening them to love others.

Of Light and Trees

By Simone Lipscomb | April 2, 2013

Just after six this morning I raised the shade on my window. Heavy mist from the cow pond next door had first rays of light peeking through it and even though I complained, I threw on a jacket and pants, grabbed my camera and tripod and shoved my flip flops on my chilly feet. The cats were in disbelief that I exited the house prior to their feeding, prior to coffee or crossword puzzle or Facebook…I think they thought the world had ended and walked around in confused circles, tails aloft as if flipping me the proverbial cat ‘bird.’

But sunrise doesn’t wait on anyone. Light can’t be asked to pause while I grab coffee. Dawn comes and in order to witness it we must meet it, face to face.

With temperatures in the fifties my toes didn’t complain that much and before long they were forgotten. First light always delights me and nearly as often frustrates me. Trying to get the exact right exposure with extreme light and shadow can be challenging. But what fun, what pleasure standing under live oak trees, their massive branches spreading overhead and surrounding me with their greatness.

New green of the spring illuminated with pre-dawn light nearly caused me to do back-flips. Instead I simply stood and whispered thank-yous.

And it made me remember a visit to Somerset several years ago. I waked before sunrise and strolled to Glastonbury Tor for a dawn visit. I wasn’t disappointed then either.