With camera gear strapped to my back, I was wandering about the countryside on my trusty bike when I came across a rather nice woods. This area was new to me and the moment was begging me to explore. It was a perfect section of woods, with a variety of trees and plant life. Just hilly enough for interest and just sunny enough to get good colour saturation on film. I discovered this one tree; a tree of all trees. Its upper branches were the size of most other mature trees. Truly enormous. The times this tree must have experienced and weathered through were unimaginable. I paced around it many times as I stared up into its array of beauty; searching for just the right point of view to preserve this tree for even greater period of time.

female brown bear taking it easy (Aleutian Islands)

On my way back to the studio, after a routine walk with the camera, I stopped to rest a moment halfway up a steep hill. It was early autumn and the leaves had begun their colour cycle. Like most of us, sometimes I forget to look up to see what's directly above. In my moment of fatigue (too much gear), I arched my back to stretch and WOW! I was standing right under a perfect shot. A lower branch spread across my view with bright red leaves and a little higher up was a maple that turned yellow and just past that, a couple different greens from the oaks. Topped off with patches of deep blue sky, it was truly a colourful moment.

Whenever I'm in the mood to photograph butterflies, I try to seek out large clusters of small deep-throated flowers. They seem designed just for the mouths of butterflies and during the right season, it can make for some great photos. Typically, I setup near these flowers with all my readings made in advance and hope for something like this beautiful Clipper butterfly of the Philippines to land in front of me.

fresh young bamboo stalks growing in eastern Chinese forest

I was set up for this whitewater section of rapids and took several shots, freezing the splashes of water at different moments in time. It was an extremely wet area from all the mist, and the lens had to be wiped down between each shot. Then I continued my hike up stream, shooting along the way. At the base of the falls, it was time to change film. For an unknown reason, my camera indicated that I had rewound the film completely, but a good portion was actually still vulnerable. When I opened up the back, boy was I surprised to have just exposed my work to daylight. Having no idea which part I had just ruined, I retraced my steps and began re-shooting each scene with a different camera back in hopes to not repeat the malfunction. While in wooded areas, since many scenes are shaded by neighboring trees, I commonly will first hike unencumbered with gear to calculate the ideal time of day for that particular scene. Thankfully, my window of light for this area was long enough to obtain a second set of exposures.

clearly appearing like something out of a Hollywood special-effects laboratory, this unreal-looking skin is actually quite common and is perhaps devouring something right outside your back door... it is a super-closeup of a June Bug's thorax (shoulder blade equivalent). the June Bugs in our area are an uninteresting plain brown, but as we explored it's outer surface, we noticed a very small metallic-looking shiny spot. far too small to see with the naked eye, we zoomed in on this spot and discovered it to be made up of many 'skin' cells of reds, oranges, and yellows each measuring around 1/3000 of an inch across. the green jellybean-like objects are actually pits in the bug's shell and have a hair growing out of each one (similar to a human pore). these deep bowel-shaped pits (about 1/400 of an inch long) were lined with more metallic-type cells that reflected our lighting back in various greens.