The Way We See It

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Kenya 2010: Born Free

When Elsa’s mother was shot, she was orphaned in an unforgiving place. Northern Kenya is arid; dotted by the rare acacia savanna and nourished by meandering rivers that are fed by infrequent mountain rains. Africa is inhospitable to those who have a parent, those without fall prey to lions, leopards and hyena. Were it not for the intervention of the rural farmer who killed Elsa’s mother, this infamous story of the orphaned lion would have ended in another tragedy.

Samburu National Reserve was Elsa’s home.

Prior to our trip to Kenya, I spent quite a lot of time researching the Samburu Reserve. I knew that this place was uniquely different from those that I had seen in Tanzania, and I was looking forward to viewing and photographing a suite of species that could be seen in very few places across Africa.

Absent is the ubiquitous savanna zebra. In its place is the larger Grevy’s zebra with its oval ears and narrow fingerprint-like stripes. The Masai giraffe is also conspicuously missing from the landscape. The smaller reticulated giraffe travels in small herds throughout the reserve. It’s elegant body is adorned with boxed spots that appear to be carefully outlined in white and bronze.

The slender gerunuk balances on its hind legs and plucks savory leaves from thorny acacias, while the beisa oryx struts about with its massive body and unicorn like horns.

This place is uniquely different from those to the south. Predictable and unpredictable drought shape the landscape, force adaptation, and push its inhabitants to the limits of survivability.

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Kenya 2010: On the Edge

His words suggested images that I did not want to see...

“Their were bones and rotten carcasses scattered everywhere, and the indigenous Samburu were surviving on rations provided by the Kenyan government.” Francis, our guide, claimed that the Samburu people are normally rich with livestock, but today their cattle and goats are dead. The Ewaso Ng'iro River stopped flowing and the arid plains of northern Kenya were wasting away.

Three rainless years have created a barren landscape dotted by abandoned villages and decimated wildlife populations. A feast for the scavenger, elephants and buffalo lied wasting away in the scorching sun. Life can adapt to an arid world, but when the predictable cannot be predicted, death is inevitable. While rains are infrequent in northern Kenya, this land and its inhabitants depend on seasonal precipitation to recharge the land. The Ewaso Ng'iro is the artery on which this ecosystem depends, in its absence the system will collapse.

It took three years, but the rain finally returned to Samburu National Reserve. What should have been cause for celebration became a tragedy throughout the park. The unseasonably heavy rain pounded the arid soils and failed to percolate into the packed ground. Water pooled and flowed across the landscape. Flash floods poured into swollen rivers, and devastated villages and lodges throughout the park. The riparian valley was reborn, but flooding now challenged its inhabitants.

Ecological stability occurs when there is a balance in nature; a fragile equilibrium in a food web defined by the eaters and the eaten. An inherent requisite for this stasis is a degree of predictability. While plants cannot consciously anticipate the rains, they are the product of evolutionary forces across millennia. Genetically programmed to flower, grow, and die they have adapted to repetitive seasonal patterns. Life across the planet exists on this razor’s edge. When climate predictably defies the norm, adaptations may become liabilities. Here in lies the challenge of our world’s climactic problems.

Samburu National Reserve is a dry and unforgiving place. With only one major river, life depends on a single predictable pattern... rain falls every year. Buried in my prose is a painfully obvious lesson about life and our future. A little park in the middle of East Africa experiences a drought, death and devastation follows; meanwhile global climatic conditions become increasingly unpredictable.

You can now write the conclusion...

Saturday, July 24, 2010

Kenya 2010: The Migration North

We had spent two evenings at the Safari Club Hotel Nairobi, and were now ready to begin the bush experience we planned nearly fourteen months ago. Exiting the the bustling city during a Sunday sunrise meant that we could avoid the oppressive traffic that walled in any who dared enter its borders. With over three million people crammed into 696 km2, Nairobi is the most populous city in East Africa, and forms a Kenyan province of its own. The rules of the road appear to be defined by the moment and confound my own logic. We three are thankful for Francis, our guide, who knows the terrain like the lines on his face. His knowledge of the city and homeland seem to be embedded in his DNA as he propelled us effortlessly out of the metropolis and into the hinterland.

Our destination was 350 km to the north on paved, unpaved, and pot-holed roads. Traveling in a stretched LandCruiser, we slowly made our way from Nairobi to Samburu National Reserve. During this five hour excursion, I could not avoid from comparing rural Kenya to the Tanzanian countryside we traversed in 2008. It became clear that Kenya is more “Westernized” than its neighbor to the south. While the homes and shops might be appear primitive to most from Europe and North America, the network of towns, villages and farms along the road were so numerous that it was a definite contrast to my recollections of Tanzania.

After five hours of twists, turns, bumps, and stops we arrived at the Samburu Simba Lodge. Cold towels and hot meals were waiting for us, a welcome relief from the dusty roads traveled that morning.

Friday, July 16, 2010

Kenya 2010: An Elephant Story

Is there a place for photographs in this age of the web, instant video, and live streaming?

The ongoing disaster in the Gulf of Mexico reminds us that a moment in time, captured as a photograph, continues to have power and can invoke unanticipated emotion. While we all can watch the oil spewing from a severed pipe and imagine the consequences of this type of negligence, it is a photograph of the beached whale, oiled bird, or devastated person that ensnares our heart and mind.

There is power in the hidden story behind every still image. Rather than seeing what happens, the still requires us, the viewer, to invent the past and predict the future. This type of unknown makes for a mystery that our human brains are compelled to ponder. It is this unknown that makes pictures so captivating and thought provoking.

While life may be stranger than fiction, every picture tells a story that is narrated by the imagination in each of us. This story is defined by an untold past and an uncertain future. It is a story that is defined by the viewer, a mystery that continues to empower the still image in this post-modern age.

All of these images were taken at the David Sheldrick Wildlife Trust and Elephant Orphanage in Nairobi Kenya. The David Sheldrick Trust rescues baby elephants whose mothers were poached. The elephant keepers are a devoted lot. They sleep with the orphans, feed them, and teach the babies how to forage in their natural habitats. After three years of intense care and training, the elephants are released into national parks where they will form their own herd or join an pre-existing group. The orphans are tracked throughout their lives and have been known to recognize and greet their foster parents (the keepers) many years following their release into the wild.

You can learn more about the Elephant Orphanage and contribute to their cause by visiting them in Nairobi, Kenya or on online at: www.sheldrickwildlifetrust.org

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

Kenya 2010: Thinking of Africa

I began “The Way We See It” nearly two years ago to the day. We were waiting for our flight from Minneapolis-St. Paul International and I was bored. The flight was delayed, so I began to scribble some thoughts about life, travel and photography. I was excited about our trip to Tanzania, and used this nervous energy to begin the blog.

The trip to Tanzania was pre-marital travel dream for us both; and eighteen years after declaring we’d do it, we finally made it happen. For two weeks we were in photographic nirvana; we were on an all day, every day safari. There was so much to see and so little time to take it in. In many ways, our Tanzanian Safari spoiled us. While I still enjoy studying patterns in nature near home and across the United States, nothing could possibly compare to the infinite photographic potential we found in East Africa. At the time, we thought that this trip was a one-shot deal, so we tried to make the most of it.

Fast forward two years...

Northwest Airlines is Delta, Barack Obama is President, and the United States is in the second round of the FIFA World Cup.... funny how life changes.

Yet, some things seem wonderfully familiar. We made it to the plane on time, Minneapolis to Amsterdam. I’m bored, but I’m filled with nervous energy.

Next stop... Kenya. We’re back baby, and I am really excited!

Thursday, June 10, 2010

Twenty-Five Tips for Taking Great Photographs

My sister, Jaime Curtis blogs at Prudent Baby.Com (http://www.prudentbaby.com) and has quite a following on her site. Prudent baby is all about engaging families in art, craft, and fun. What’s more, Prudent Baby makes for cool kids with cool parents and encourages its readers to embrace their inner artist.

About two weeks ago, Jaime asked if I’d author a column about making photographs. We decided that I would write ten tips supported by ten images. As I got rolling on this reflective process, I realized that I could not summarize my photographic intentions with ten simple platitudes. I wanted to make these tips relevant to Jaime’s readers and inspire her community to see differently with their cameras.

Tip #1 “It’s about the photographer, not the camera”

This is the tip I offer to every aspiring nature photographer that I meet. While I often fall into the “must have new...” paradigm, I know in my heart that my vision can be expressed on film, with a point and shoot, or with an enthusiasts/consumer digital SLR. Sure new technology is fun and often “better,” however it will not transform poor technique and bad compositions into enjoyable images.

To see the rest of my thoughts about photography and the photographic process follow the link to “25 Tips for Taking Great Photographs” at Prudent Baby.Com.

Sunday, May 23, 2010

Spring is Here!

I’m not sure if we can chalk it up to climate change, but spring arrived early this year.

Minnesota is famous for an endless winter that often extends into May. So worried are we about the unpredictable weather in my fair state, we long-timers recommend that you hold off your “Spring Planting” until Memorial Day. My Californian family mocks me when I state such things, but it is the reality of living due north.

But this was not “the way” for 2010! A warming trend began in early April and we have had nothing but great weather since. While I now feel a tad embarrassed about all of my winter whining, I know that the wonderful weather is an ephemeral blip in time.

As a way to embrace this rare and early spring, I decided to visit a nearby heron rookery on the St. Croix River. The rookery resides on an island between Wisconsin and Minnesota and access to the colony requires a boat. Mid to early April precedes the “leaf-out” of riverine cottonwoods (Populus deltoides) and is an ideal time to see nest building behaviors.

Canoes are a wonderful way to visit sensitive aquatic habitats. We set off in pre-dawn light and paddled the short distance to the island rookery. Positioning the boat within a cattail marsh, I had pleasure to capture the movement and flight of these giants as they descended onto their nesting platforms. While photography from a canoe can be quiet a challenge the rewards are definitely worth the effort.

Welcome back Spring!

Friday, April 2, 2010

The Vernal Equinox

As readers of this blog already know, I feign the endurance required to survive a Minnesota winter. We moved here to escape west coast urban sprawl, but we were unprepared for the challenges of mid-continental life. Twenty years later I still consider myself a foreigner in this place. I lack the childhood connections that bind me to a community, and have no deep seeded memories of fun in the cold. To this day, Minnesota is enigmatic to me, and I am an enigma to it. So, I fake it. Like the lover who fakes “it” for her love, I fake my pleasure for sub-arctic walks, frigid temperatures, and making art when it hurts. I say that I enjoy short days, blistering winds, and winter photography, but I lie in order to fool myself. I lie to pass the time.

The Vernal Equinox is what I love about Minnesota. March 20th is both the end of winter and the end of my lies. While March and April can be wildly unpredictable, they do signal an end. Winter is ephemeral, a fact that is not evident in January. Winter makes us stronger and better than our fellow countrymen, this is the lie Minnesotans tell to justify their existence here.
Fortunately for me, winter is not a circle that lacks a discrete beginning or end, it is a vector. It is initiated on the solstice and points to the equinox. It is spring today and it rained. I walked Sequoia and stepped on earthworms slithering across the asphalt. As I smashed these writhing exotics with my sandaled feet, I listened to the bluebirds calling to future mates and watched a heron fly overhead. While it may snow tomorrow, it is April 2nd today, and I now know that the snow will melt.

Monday, March 8, 2010

Dreaming of Cloud Forests

Stuck in a creative void and feeling too tired to contrive novel thoughts, I’ll let the images do the talking.

These two pictures were shot within the cloud-forests that includes Cerro de la Muerte and Quetzal National Park. This less traveled montane forest is home to unique endemic birds like the silky fly-catcher, ochraceous pewee, and resplendent quetzal.

Saturday, March 6, 2010

Compact Camera Fun

I tend to approach photography with a predetermined and deliberate vision. While wildlife photography requires a more serendipitous approach, landscapes and abstractions feed my obsessive - compulsive tendencies.

In general, I will begin to define my vision by pre-framing an image in my head. I will study the area, frame the image with boxed fingers, and look for a suitable spot to place a tripod. Here, “tripod gymnastics” can consume as much as 30 minutes. I will raise the legs, shift the angle, shift the head, and hopefully find that sweet spot. By now, the light is prime and I fix the camera and lens to the rig. After attaching a cable release and applying mirror lock-up, I am ready to compose, shoot, recompose, and shoot again. The light fades fast, and if I’m lucky, I’ll make a few satisfactory images, and call it a day.

Enter the compact camera.

This has been a real tendency breaker for Tamy and I. Instead of working slowly, I will become impetuous and take chances. Holding a point and shoot and framing with the LCD, I’ll shoot pictures that I might otherwise ignore. Compact cameras now equals “grab-bag” photography. I’m not sure what I’ll get, but what’s lost in taking the risk?

In the above images, Tamy was sitting on a rock, watching the waves crash along Lake Superior when she decided to pull out her G9 and make portraits of our pup. With one arm extended and the other holding a leash, she framed Sequoia’s face with the LCD and just pressed the button. Had she taken the time to use her SLR, the moment would have been lost.

While hiking through Gooseberry Falls State Park, I observed that a sheet of ice had formed a cave on the other side of the river. The day’s warm temperature initiated a thaw, and the river ice was beginning to melt. I new that I couldn’t cross the river ice with my heavy pack, so I ditched it in the snow, grabbed my m4/3 body and cautiously traversed the river. After scrambling up a muddy slope, I climbed into the cave, lied on my back, and pointed the camera towards the sky.

Had I followed my typical protocol, I would have deemed the image too risky and considered a lost opportunity. A quality compact now offers us the chance to take new risks, search for different images, and continue to have fun with our photography.