Reflections...

American Avocet (Recurvirostra americana) - Bolsa Chica Wildlife Refuge, CA
Canon 5D mark iii + Canon 300mm f2.8L IS w/ Canon 1.4x converter

No words... just an metaphor in the form of an image as one year comes to a close and another begins.

©2000-2012 BTLeventhal.com / Bruce & Tamy Leventhal. All rights reserved. No image on this site may be used without permission.

Tip #87: Wait for the Moment

Black Rhinoceros (Diceros bicornis) - Ngorongoro Crater, Tanzania

The most valuable tool in my kit cannot be purchased in a typical shoppe; in fact, I’ve never seen one for sale. Sadly, this tool does not fit in my bag nor can it be passed on to another. It is a tool of the mind and must be acquired through deliberate practice.

Many years ago I traveled to Denali National Park with little more than a point and shoot camera and ten rolls of film. My little Pentax had a fixed 35mm lens, shot less than one frame per second and lacked the ability to adjust the focus or shutter. It was a “PhD” (push here dummy), a tool for the masses. I was a poor college student doing research in Alaska, and this camera was on loan from my family. 

I learned a lot about photography during my eight weeks in Alaska, yet none of the lessons had anything to do with optics, exposure or digital noise. In 1986 modern photography was a magazine, and digital referred to the numbers on an HP calculator. Memory cards and LCD screens weren’t even science fiction, they were unimaginable. Yet, with little more than the ability to load the film into that crappy camera, I managed to find THE key tool. 

Sunset from Moro Rock - Sequoia National Park, California

After spending six weeks on an island in the Bering Sea documenting seabird behaviors at five minute intervals, one learns to be patient. Long days in the sub-arctic, where the sun barely sets, offers the opportunity for focused and deliberate study. It was there, in a blind suspended over breaking waves, where I learned how to wait for the moment and see beyond the obvious. 

There are many essential tools available to the modern photographer; some are fantastically expensive while others are more modest. However, the key tool for the Nature and Wildlife Pictorialist (see Gavin Seim) is endurance and patience. During a long hike through Denali with my PentaCrap point and shoot I stumbled upon a pond, I previsualized the way the sun might set, and I put down my pack and waited. That was the day I made my first image, it was the day I became a photographer. 

©2000-2012 BTLeventhal.com / Bruce & Tamy Leventhal. All rights reserved. No image on this site may be used without permission.

Tip #79: The Alarm Clock

Bolsa Chica Sunrise - California

Not much to say about Tip #79... If you’re a wildlife and landscape shooter, buy one, use it and shoot!

Sandhill Crane Fly By - Wisconsin

Gooseberry Rain - Minnesota

©2000-2012 BTLeventhal.com / Bruce & Tamy Leventhal. All rights reserved. No image on this site may be used without permission.

On the Fringe

Joshua Tree National Park has been an inspiration to me in more ways than I can articulate. Shortly before my 13th birthday I moved to 29 Palms California, and I... a New York City kid, had to learn to love a place that was foreign. The Mojave was relentless. It was a dry sparsely populated fragment of rock, dirt, and tumbleweed. I hated my new world. I craved the odors of Manhattan, street vendors, and sewers... I just wanted to go home. 

Like any lost kid, I adapted. I looked for anything to help me waste away the endless hours of boredom. I took long hikes into the desert, investigated abandoned shacks, and fished for lizards (yes... we use to call it fishing!). By the time I left JTree in 1979, I'd fallen for its charm. In this seemingly simplistic world, I discovered complexities.    

My studies in college led me back to the Mojave... This barren landscape that was the place of my youth was also where I found my wife. While I no longer call the desert home, I am a frequent visitor. I have camped, hiked and photographed this harsh landscape for more than two decades, and have spent hours searching for elusive creatures. During a recent outing to Joshua Tree National Park I had a brief encounter with the herd pictured throughout this essay. While I've seen Bighorn Sheep (Ovis canadensis) across montane regions of the U.S., I had never observed them here. The herd traversed rocky outcrops as they ushered their lambs up and over the mountain pass. Their cryptic form allowed even the largest rams to disappear into the mountainscape like a desert mirage on a sunny day. I am forever amazed by the complexity of life and its capacity to evolve and adapt to marginal habitats across our planet. The desert is a beacon for the evolutionary process... competition for limited resources drives change and allows only the most fit to thrive, reproduce and contribute genes into the next generation. If you want to see evolution, look to the fringe... in the desert, the footprint of biology is too large to be ignored. 

©2000-2011 BTLeventhal.com / Bruce & Tamy Leventhal. All rights reserved. No image on this site may be used without permission.

Species Profile: Yucca brevifolia

When Mormon settlers crossed the Mojave in the mid-19th century they "saw" the hands of Joshua reaching towards the heavens... so goes the origin of this tree's colloquial name. 

Favorite Places: Bolsa Chica and the Back Bay

Tamy and I visited some familiar ground during our recent trip back to Southern California. Having graduated with degrees in Ecology, Evolution, and Behavior (EEB) from U.C. Irvine, we had spent many days surveying the coastal wetlands that stretch from Redondo to Laguna. Although most of the pristine estuaries that I recall have now collapsed under the weight of the development, fragments of the Southern California wetland ecosystem still remain. Two of our favorite locales are the Bolsa Chica Conservancy and the Back Bay. Situated about an hour south and west of Los Angeles, these tidal plains are oases for migrating shorebirds, ducks, and herons. 

Home Coming

On March 7th, two days prior to yet another predicted "snownado" (adj: sno-nado, a term used by the weather terrorists to inspire fear in the masses about upcoming snow events) Tamy and I boarded a plane for sunny California... the place we still call home. While Minnesota is where we live, work, and play we have been reticent to call it "home."  Although our visit to California was primarily relegated to family, we managed to steal a few days and immerse ourselves in the craft of photography. The moderate temps and coastal breezes were all that I needed to get the creative juices flowing.