I'm certainly not a marine biologist, but am informed that this is a 'Dactylometra Quinquecirrha' type jellyfish, so I'll take their word for it. Their tentacles are covered with stinging cells that attach themselves to anything that touches them and injects a venom into it's prey. Fortunately I didn't get the opportunity to experience this in action even though I'm told it's not fatal. My biggest problem capturing this image is that there is absolutely nothing stable to attach a camera to underwater. Tripods are useless, I'm moving, the camera is moving, the sea creatures are moving, all at different rhythms (guess I didn't need to bring the cable release). All in all, this was probably the most serene and beautiful creature I've ever witnessed; it's pulsating motions and delicate nature were extremely enjoyable.

This is a close-up of Dichrolam Film - an exotic material that won awards for being one of the most innovative materials in the world. It's paper thin and made up of several hundred layers of super-thin plastics that diffract and filter light into different colours depending on the viewing angle.

I was camping out on one of the lower peaks (about 8500 feet) in the Andes Mountains. It was a wet and somewhat tropical area and had a light rain most of the night. As daylight started making itself known, the remaining rain clouds started dissipating and swirling about the neighboring peaks. Once again, I grabbed my camera gear and prepared for a moody shot. The sunlight was peaking out here and there, clouds blowing by and changing each second, I just had to wait for everything to come into balance and squeeze the shutter's release cable. The dark neighboring mountain peak intertwined with scattering clouds created a mysterious and suspenseful image, expressing the drama in the air this morning.

coming down off the mountain just in time to witness the sun setting and the nearby cloud-line lighting up in pink.

edge of a corn crop in Indiana

When one gets a camera close enough to a drip of water, the whole surrounding world can been seen within. This makes for a rather unique and interesting image that is sure to start conversation. Seeming to be an eternity, I v-e-r-y carefully moved my camera around to capture the surrounding patch of daisies and early morning sky inside this water-lens without the slightest disturbance to the delicate drop. After a few micro-adjustments to the position just right, the sun glistened on the edge of the drop and made a wonderful sparkle highlight.

It was late spring in the Utah desert and I got caught in a light rain shower. It was hot, so the rain felt nice, but I still didn't want to get soaked and be encumbered with wet clothes. I stooped under a tree about the height of a house (tall for the region) and let it shelter me from most of the rain. In about 30 minutes, it turned to a fine mist and I continued up the mountain. Soon the sun started to peek out and turned my surroundings to a steamy sauna. Whenever the sun comes out after a rain, I immediately look for the possibility of a rainbow. Rainbows are so beautiful and last only a moment, that I do everything possible to capture one onto film. Sure enough, one started to emerge right in front of me, but was mostly obscured by the ground, so I started to run up the hill for a better view. The mountainside was steep and seemed to never end. Each time I thought I could see it leveling off, by the time I got there, it continued upward. I was exhausted and time was quickly counting down. I managed to make my way to a partial overlook and captured ¾ of the arch of colour before it faded away.