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'Twas the Day Before Christmas :

’Twas the Day Before Christmas

‘Twas the day before Christmas and all through the house…oops, sorry wrong story.

It was indeed the day before Christmas and yes, the stockings were hung by the chimney with care, but if you went all through the house you would quickly discover no one was home. That’s because my wife and I have a long standing tradition of spending that special day on Sanibel Island. It began way back in the early seventies when we lived in Sarasota and we’ve managed to keep it alive through the years with the exception of a period when my company had transferred me to Texas and then Virginia.

When the tradition began, we would rise early and spend over two hours in the car driving from Sarasota to Sanibel Island. Once we arrived, we would enjoy a full day of sightseeing, have dinner, and then head home at dusk. That was a special time and seeing all the Christmas lights aglow on the trip home was the perfect end to a perfect day.

It would be nice if we could pick and choose our “Groundhog Days” where things would remain the same for ever, but unfortunately that only happens in the movies. Things change with time and circumstances and our tradition is no exception to that rule. When we returned to Florida, we settled farther south so what used to be a two hour trek to get to Sanibel is now a half hour jaunt. Because of that, we spend a great deal of time on the Island and the uniqueness of the trip has become just another everyday occurrence. Now add the fact that we’ve both retired from the work force and are not the early risers that we used to be and you can see how that would tend to alter our little tradition.

This year was going to be different. I had decided we would revert back to the original tradition and spend the whole day on Sanibel Island…yeah, right. We both came down with colds just before the holidays so needless to say when the special day arrived there was no real enthusiasm to rise with the chickens. So, long about one o’clock in the afternoon we headed for Sanibel. On the way to the Island, between the sneezes and coughs, it was decided that we would make one pass through the J. N. “Ding” Darling National Wildlife Refuge and then head back home.

As is our custom, we spent some time chatting with the person at the Refuge entry. They are always interesting to talk with and can usually tell you if there is anything unique to see that day. We wished her a Merry Christmas and headed into the Refuge. Although it’s the season of giving, we were hoping we didn’t give her our colds.

The first thing we noticed was the tide was approaching the high mark. The best time to view “critters” is at low tide so we didn’t anticipate seeing a large variety of birds. As we neared the first large open area, I noticed a grouping of white pelicans. Although brown pelicans are year-round residents, the white species only appear during the winter months. White pelicans are considerably larger than their brown cousins but it’s my opinion that brown pelicans are more interesting to watch. White’s tend to spend the vast majority of their time swimming around scooping up fish, preening, and sleeping…well, there’s also the issue of getting rid of the fish they ate but we won’t go there. Brown’s seem to be more active and there’s also that neat Kamikaze dive they make to catch a fish not to mention they’re more creative in getting rid of the fish they ate…they can make a dead center hit on a tourists head from a hundred feet in the air.

As I walked to the other side of the drive to see if there was anything interesting, I met a gentlemen who was there with his wife and kids. He was asking me questions about the Refuge and some of the birds we were seeing which I was doing a decent job of answering. Suddenly he pointed to a bird and gave me the old “What’s that?” Even though I know the names of a lot of species, there are also a lot that I have no idea what they are called. The one he was pointing to fell into the latter category. Trying to maintain my dignity, I said “Why that’s a duck”, hey it had a wide bill and reminded me of Donald so what the heck. His next question was “What kind of duck?”…ugh, did you ever feel like you just can’t win? Needless to say, I had to fess up and tell him I didn’t know the species. I snapped a picture and would do some research to find its name when I got home. So Adam, if you’re reading this I was right, it was a “duck” just not Donald Duck, more like a mottled duck.

As we continued our conversation, I was surprised to find out that Adam was a Vet…no, no, not that kind of Vet, he’s a Veterinarian. Not only that, but he lives a short distance from where I was born and raised. Since I’ve already hit you with “Donald Duck”, I guess it’s appropriate to say “It’s a small world after all”. Hah, I hear you singing that song. You know you’re going to be singing it all day long.

As we were chatting, we watched a tricolored heron land on the rocks near the spillway. It hardly had a chance to settle in and along came a snowy egret which, in a rather noisy manner, chased the heron away. During the remainder of our conversation, we watched the interaction between the squatter heron and the de facto land owner repeat itself over and over. They were still at it when I left to continue up the road.

“The Squatter” – Tricolored Heron

“The De Facto Land Owner” – Snowy Egret

Just up the road, we came upon an immature little blue heron. A lot of people mistakenly write this bird off as another one of those snowy egrets, but they’re not even close. Well, yeah, they’re both white, I’ll give you that much. What’s interesting about the little blue heron is that it starts out its life as a white bird and in about a year morphs to its normal blue color…how cool is that?

As we continued on, I heard the all too familiar “Stop, back up!” This time it was accompanied by “There’s something small and furry in the bushes”. Knowing that my wife, “old eagle eyes”, does a good job of finding neat things I hit the brakes and shifted into reverse. I had to struggle to see it and when I did, I really wasn’t sure what I was seeing. It was a ball of fur, maybe a foot or so in length. Now, I’ve been around wild “critters” a lot and I’m a devout coward about getting too close. After all, they’re wild animals and you never know what they are going to do when you invade their territory. I was about three feet away when this little head popped up…it was a raccoon, a very young raccoon. The raccoons on Sanibel Island have evolved and are no longer nocturnal. I always refer to them as tidal, that is, they come out to feed at low tide so it’s quite common to see them out in the middle of the day. Since we were now moving toward high tide, I have to assume someone had a belly full of crustaceans and was now “sawing z’s”. I don’t believe it was sick although it did have some wetness around the eyes.

My final shots are of a reddish egret. My wife always refers to them as “those Italian birds” because of the slicked-back hairdo…err, I guess that’s featherdo. I’m still trying to figure that one out.

After a pleasant time in Sanibel we headed home to get ready for the fat guy’s visit. Based on past experiences, I knew I would need a large shovel to clean the reindeer poop off the roof and the cordless dust buster to pick up the slobs cookie crumbs. Then there’s the issue of the sooty footprints and spilled milk stains on the carpet. I guess I’ll have to rent a carpet cleaner to make those disappear. This summer I’m definitely going to brick over the fireplace. The fat guy can do what everyone else does, use FedEx for his deliveries.

Another great adventure comes to an end. It doesn’t get any better than this, well, unless you’re talking about everything you asked Santa for showing up under the tree on Christmas morning. That might just be a step up from this story.

I guess as we travel the road of life, we can never be really sure which way the road will turn…one thing for sure though, when you’re up on the roof taking the Christmas lights down, be careful you don’t slip on the reindeer poop.

© 2010 SunGlo Photography

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'Twas the Day Before Christmas

What Happend to the Magic? :

What Happened to the Magic?

My wife and I were invited to spend two days with some friends enjoying the Christmas magic of Disney World in Orlando, Florida. They were spending a week there and we were to meet them on the morning of their fourth day at the theme park. It sounded like fun and it had been a number of years since the last time we were in “Mickey Land” during the holiday season, so we decided to accept the invitation.

The morning of our departure was cloudy, cold, and foggy and we were hoping that wasn’t an omen. As we drew closer and closer to Disney World our fears were quickly replaced by excitement and we were soon reminiscing about the great time we had at Epcot on our last holiday visit. The more we saw during that visit the more the child in us came out from its dusty, web covered hiding place. We spent the whole time meandering around taking in the sights at our own pace, not the slightest bit worried if we didn’t see everything…after all, the idea was to relax and enjoy ourselves. The decorations were beyond words and we had a great time, far exceeding our expectations…a magical time in a world of make-believe.

Now, I have to be totally honest with you. There was a little gremlin in the back of my mind saying “you can’t go back, it won’t be the same” and “you’re not going to have fun, you’ll be hanging out with three teenagers and their parents”. As we pulled our car up to Disney’s BoardWalk, I knew instantly the gremlin was right, it wasn’t the same…it was better…it was awesome.

Before we checked in to the BoardWalk, we took some time to wander around the lobby. It was amazing, all decorated for Christmas, absolutely breathtaking. I swear even Scrooge would have hummed along with the Christmas music…bah-eautiful! The child in us was once again fighting to get out.

Once we were settled in, we contacted our friends and they hopped on one of the shuttle boats to meet us at our hotel. As we were getting ready to head out to see the sights our friends mentioned that if we wanted we could head out on our own, they didn’t want us to feel like we had to hang around with them. I thought that was odd, but just wrote it off as a nice gesture.

We went through the process of securing our park entrance cards and once that was complete we headed off to Epcot, chatting as we walked at a nice leisurely pace. In no time we had traveled the short distance to the entrance. As we swiped our cards and walked through the turnstile, it may have been my imagination, but I thought I saw a flash of light and the whole demeanor of our friends seemed to change. The look on their faces reflected anticipation, a burning desire, a need to get going. My gremlin was saying “I warned you, but no, you wouldn’t listen”.

The sights were amazing, but I noticed that each time I would stop to shoot some pictures, our friends would get a pained look on their faces…humm, was this yet another omen. Hey, I’m a photographer, I take pictures, and I hope they understood that fact when they planned the trip and invited us along. I was beginning to feel as though we were slowing them down.

The sun finally made an appearance and as we ventured deeper into Epcot, our leisurely pace began to morph into a brisk walk. Now, every time I stopped for a Kodak moment I would have to run to catch up to the gang. It reminded me of my childhood vacations when dad would say “Go to the bathroom now ‘cause we’re not stopping ‘till we get there”. But, my wife and I were still enjoying ourselves and seeing a lot of sights, so we really didn’t mind.

I stopped once again to “capture the beauty” and when I was finished I looked up just in time to see my wife disappear around a corner traveling at a high rate of speed with a teenager attached to each of her arms. I’m not sure if my eyes were playing tricks on me or not, but it appeared as though her feet weren’t touching the ground…and yet another mad dash to catch up with the gang. I was beginning to think we were seriously cutting into the teenagers “ride time”.

As the day wore on, we were beginning to feel more and more guilty about slowing them down. To compensate, I became very adept at shooting on the run. We were both to the point of dropping from sheer exhaustion. The only thing that kept us going was our ego. We didn’t want the teenagers and their parents to think the old fogies couldn’t keep up. We also knew that it was getting close to the time we would be forced to stop because we had reservations for dinner followed by a Christmas concert. Our feet were sorely looking forward to that time when we could flop down and take the load off.

We had an enjoyable dinner followed by a narrated Christmas story intermixed with music played by a large orchestra. Our feet were overjoyed that it was a long concert. When we finally left the amphitheater, I think even the teenagers and their parents had run out of steam so we were back to a leisurely pace while we wandered around taking in the beauty of all the Christmas lights.

Finally it was time to head back to our room. Our friends told us where to meet them in the morning and we all said our goodbyes. Once they were out of sight, my wife and I headed over to catch a shuttle boat back to our hotel…enough with the long walks, it was time to be lazy. Our excuse was that we needed to save our strength for tomorrow since our friends seem to have a passion for walking…very brisk walking.

We finally made it back to our hotel and while we were getting ready for bed, we discussed the day’s events. I was telling my wife, I didn’t feel the magic. Yes, we had an enjoyable day, but what happened to the magic, that awesome feeling that we experienced on our last visit. Were we finally getting to old for the magic? Was the child in us buried so deep that it couldn’t find its way out? I think we both fell asleep dreaming about our last holiday visit and hoping that the magic would return in the morning.

The next day, we were both a wee bit slow getting out of bed and really, really, glad that we remembered to bring along a bottle of aspirin. We had a pleasant breakfast and spent the time discussing how we were going to handle today’s “marathon”. We decided that if the pace became too hectic, we would just find out where everyone was headed and we would meet them there…kind of “don’t wait on us, we’ll get there when we get there”.

We finished our breakfast and headed out to catch a bus to Animal Kingdom. The trip was longer than expected so we were running a little late. Ugh, we were already slowing our friends down…not a good way to start the day. But, when we arrived at the designated meeting place our friends were no where in sight. They arrived ten minutes later looking somewhat sleepy. I chuckled and fought the urge to make some snide remarks.

After we entered the Kingdom, I was pleasantly surprised that no one seemed to be in a great hurry. We were asked if we wanted to ride on Expedition Everest…our answer was a resounding no, no, and heck no. I was a big fan of riding Space Mountain, but Expedition Everest makes it look like molasses on a cold winter day…there wasn’t enough courage between the two of us to even walk anywhere near Expedition Everest. With that resolved, the “kids” took off running to get Fastpasses for a ride that was going to scare the bajeebers out of them.

The rest of us continued on to a real daring ride, Kali River Rapids. It sounded like fun and how bad could it be? The “kids” caught up to us as we approached the ride entrance. Our friends kept snickering and giving each other knowing looks. Humm, I wonder what that’s about? Just in case there was something behind the looks, I decided to put my camera in one of their backpacks. Water and a camera, nah, they just don’t mix well…I’ll play it safe.

When our turn came to load up our friends quickly jumped in the raft and pointed at the two remaining seats and said to us, sit there…duh…I wonder what that was all about? As we were slowly floating down the river, our friends were telling us about their uncle and how he got drenched when they took him on this very ride. Suddenly alarm bells went off in my head and before I could warn my wife we were plunging down a waterfall…you guessed it, we were both soaked. Our friends were high and dry, well, except for the tears streaming down their cheeks from laughing so hard. To say we looked like drowned water rats would have been an understatement. After experiencing our near drowning, the rest of the ride was like tiptoeing through the tulip patch…boring. As we were exiting the ride I noticed a tall strong fence between us and the water…darn, no paybacks, I guess our friends won’t be “accidentally” falling in the water…my revenge will have to wait.

It was easy to find our way back to the Kingdom, all we had to do was just follow the wet footprints. We were now slipping and sliding our way to the infamous Expedition Everest. No, we hadn’t changed our minds, but the “kids” were still intent on committing suicide. The gang took off running and we meandered in the direction of all the distant screams…“Help, help me” and “I want my mommy”. There also were a few people on the ride that kept calling for someone named ralph…not sure what that was about.

As we wandered along, we were in awe of the beauty around us. Yes, it was all make believe, but wow. Even though it was impressive, I was still asking the same question, “What happened to the magic?” We were really enjoying ourselves, but maybe we’ve just gotten too old to find the magic.

We arrived at Expedition Everest just as the gang was exiting the ride. They were all trying to act like it was no big deal, but their ashen faces and shaky hands told a different story. Once again I stifled the urge to make some snide remarks. Maybe along with getting old, I’m also getting soft. In the past, I would never have missed an opportunity to hurl a few zingers.

Our next destination was Kilimanjaro Safari which was clear on the other side of the park. I was dreading that long walk until I discovered our lunch destination was at the halfway point of our trek. Apparently the dreaded Expedition Everest had taken its toll on the gang since we were once again traveling at a slow relaxed pace. The “kids” were even encouraging me by pointing out photo ops. The morning haze had finally cleared and as is my custom, I snapped a gazillion pictures.

As you can imagine, lunch with three teenagers was interesting. One of the boys kept trying to build a tower of condiments while his brother kept knocking it down. Their sister kept egging both of them on and in no time the parents were upset with all of them.

Experience had taught my wife and I to “clam up” since trying to defuse this type of situation would more than likely put us right in the middle of the “family discussion”. We just gave each other a knowing look, sat back, and waited for the smoke to clear. Since our friends were all mad at each other, the rest of our “dining experience” was conducted in complete silence. Did I mention the food was great?

After an interesting lunch, we arrived at the Kilimanjaro Safari. We navigated the famous Disney queuing system and eventually were allowed to climb aboard one of the open-sided safari vehicles. I have to admit, the design of the vehicle and the drivers “canned” speech seemed a little corny at first, but we “went with the flow” and were soon caught-up in the chase to catch poachers who had taken a baby elephant from its mother…yeah, I know, how could we be so gullible?

We did get to see a lot of animals as we “bounced” along, and I do mean “bounced. If it wasn’t for the “bounce”, I probably would have nodded off listening to the drone of the driver’s monologue. All in all, it was still an enjoyable experience and I was impressed with the design of the animal habitats, but the magic was still missing.

We then wandered over to “It’s Tough to be a Bug” and once again the gang started snickering while sharing conspiratorial looks and smiles…I warned my wife another surprise was just around the corner. The presentation was your stereotypical Disney 3D movie complete with us getting sprayed in the face with what I hoped was water and then getting our butts “bumped” as the bugs supposedly vacated the theater by crawling under our seats. After leaving the bug basement, it was back out in the sunshine and a leisurely stroll through some Florida native wildlife exhibits and then a visit with some dinosaurs.

It was getting late in the day and I was ready to call it quits and head home, but we had one more stop to make in the Hollywood Studios theme park. I was mumbling to my wife about the long walk ahead of us when it was announced by our friends that we would be taking the shuttle boat…all I said was “We’re not w a l k i n g?” and suddenly I had a sharp pain in my side as my wife’s elbow struck one of my ribs which was closely followed by a wheezing sound as all the air left my lungs.

I found out our final destination was to see the Osborne Family Christmas Lights. I didn’t have enough lung capacity back to make another snide remark, but I was thinking “Oh joy, more Christmas lights. Where’s the magic in that?” So once we docked, we made yet another trek through the land of make believe, this time to see some family’s Christmas lights…joy to the world…bah humbug.

I was a little confused when we finally arrived at our destination. It looked just like a city street complete with tall buildings. The family’s Christmas lights that we were supposed to look at were no where in sight. Just then I saw several large benches and decided that sitting my butt down and resting was far more important than worrying about some old Christmas lights…I was tired…I was getting grumpy…I wanted to go home…and the only magic I wanted to see was the lights of Orlando in the rearview mirror of our car.

Shortly after we sat down, we heard a racket coming from down the street and looked up in time to see a small impromptu parade headed our way. Just a few vehicles and some people dressed in costumes, you know, typical Disney but it held our interest for all of ten minutes. Then it was back to people watching and wondering what happened to that family’s lights.

As the sun started to set, I was beginning to think that family made a wrong turn in Tampa because they were definitely a no show and their Christmas lights never made it either. Well, at least it will give us an early start for our three hour trip home. Just as I was about to tell my wife this must have been another one of our friends jokes, I heard Christmas music. It was faint at first, but gradually got louder as the sun finally dropped off the edge of the earth.

Looking down the street, we could see Christmas lights coming on. Slowly, building by building the Christmas lights began to glow. When it finally reached our end of the street, the music was at full intensity and the lights began to pulse to the beat of the music. Oh, it was truly awesome, it was beyond belief, amazing, like being five years old and waking up on Christmas morning. The child in me had not only come out, but was dancing in the street. I glanced over to my wife and saw the twinkle in her eyes, she knew, she felt the same way…it was magic…it was the magic, that awesome feeling when you’re a kid and everything is right in your little world.

Before we even realized what happened, we found ourselves out in the street joining the festivities with the rest of the crowd, bathing in the magic. Not a soul was sitting on the sidelines, not a soul cared about yesterday or tomorrow, not a soul wanted it to end. We were all children again. It was hearing reindeer on the roof and Santa coming down the chimney, it was all you could ask for and more…then it began to snow.

As the music faded and the lights slowly dimmed and finally blinked out we all realized it was over. It was time for the child to retreat to its dusty hiding place and for us to rejoin the adult world. The magic was over and with each passing year it was becoming harder and harder to find.

We were closer to our hotel room than our friends were to theirs, so we were on the road long before they were even ready to leave Disney. With the cruise control on and Christmas music coming from the radio, we settled back in our seats for the long ride home.

We thought of the magic that was reborn, but were brought back to earth by the sound of a horn. As we looked out the window what should appear, our friends in a van with all of their gear. They seemed once again to be in a hurry, traveling so fast and causing us worry.

I heard my wife say as they drove out of sight, “Happy Christmas to all and to all a good-night. Oh, and don’t wait on us, we’ll get there when we get there!”

Another great adventure comes to an end. It doesn’t get any better than this, well, unless you’re talking about eating out with friends at an Oyster House and being the only one to find a pearl. That might just be a step up from this story.

I guess as we travel the road of life, we can never be really sure which way the road will turn…one thing for sure though, if teenagers invite you on a trip make sure you bring along your roller skates.

© 2010 SunGlo Photography

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What Happend to the Magic?

I Taut I Taw a Puddy Tat :

I Taut I Taw a Puddy Tat

Sometimes you reach out to grab the brass ring only to discover the one you got was made of plastic. Take for instance my neighbor George. He was having a problem with a large colony of feral cats and was trying to find a way to resolve the issue.

I imagine some of you are wondering “What the heck is a feral cat?” Well, a feral cat is a domestic cat that was born in the wild. In other words, they’re basically wild domestic cats. Feral cats exhibit none of the “pet” characteristics of that cute little puddy tat you have at home. You know the one, “Mr. I’m the king of this castle” and who’s kind enough to let you live in your own house.

Anyway, as I said, George was having problems with some of Sylvester’s wild relatives. I was totally unaware of the problem until one day on our way out to do some shopping, my wife and I noticed George standing in an empty lot surrounded by tall weeds.

As I looked at George my mind was working hard trying to figure out what he was doing, but the longer I watched him the more impossible it became to hold back my laughter. There George was, leaning on a long metal pole with what appeared to be a “kicked in the butt” look on his face. On his hands were two pairs of gloves. I’m assuming he felt one pair was just not enough protection. The first of the two pairs were work gloves and the second ones were white latex gloves. George looked like a cross between an EMT and someone on safari.

There wasn’t the slightest bit of shade where George was standing and the temperature was now hovering right around ninety-four degrees. Oh, did I mention that George was wearing a long sleeve shirt, long pants, and a strange looking hat? Just the sight of him had sweat beads forming on my brow. What ever was going on, I had to assume he couldn’t walk away from the problem. He reminded me of the story about a little Dutch boy with his finger in the dyke only George was beginning to wilt from the hot sun.

My curiosity was getting the better of me and I had to find out the story behind George’s odd appearance. As I was pulling off the road, my wife asked “Have you figured out what the heck George is doing over there?” “No, but I’m about to find out.” With that I activated my warning flashers, grabbed my camera, and headed over to chat with George. Since there is very little traffic on our street, the warning flashers were a little overkill, on the other hand, it did make me look like I was on an official Joe Friday kind of mission, “Okay, just the facts ma’am…ah…George.”

As I was crossing the street, I noticed George was standing near what appeared to be a cage or trap with a furry little critter inside. Oh man, this was really getting good. I could hardly wait to hear his story.

We went through the normal pleasantries, “Hi, how are you?” “A little warm, but fine, and you?” Then we moved on to the important stuff. “So, what’s going on?” “Feral cats.” “Feral cats?” “Yeah, feral cats.”

“I’m pretty sure my neighbor’s feeding them and when they finish with her gourmet food, they come over to my place to use the toilet.” “Do they flush when they’re finished?” “No, and it smells to the high heavens…’sides, they’re killing the birds. They can’t be hungry so I’m guessing they just do it for the challenge.”

The whole time we were conversing, I was busy snapping pictures of the fuzz ball. “George, I may be mistaken but that sure doesn’t look like a feral cat in your trap.” “Not my trap. It belongs to animal control. They lent me the equipment to trap the cats. You know, you’re a lot smarter than you look. It’s not a feral cat, it’s a possum.” “That’s what I figured. Why is it still in the trap if the door’s open?” “It was hot, so I gave it some water and after that I guess it felt safer in there than out in the wild. It curled up to take a nap so I tilted the trap up and tried to dump it out. I should have known better, they’re experts at holding on to things even when they’re upside down.”

“What are you going to do now?” “Well, the truth is I was waiting for you to come along.” “Me? Why me?” “Well, I figured you’d bring your camera out and take some pictures.” “Got me figured out, huh?” “Yeah, well you always drive everyone and everything crazy snapping a ‘gazillion’ pictures so I figured the furry little thing would leave just to get away from you.”

Now, I laughed at George’s logic…that is until Mr/Mrs Opossum wandered out of the trap, gave me a dirty look, then headed across the lot to where a bunch of pepper bushes were growing along the canal bank. “Told you! I would have called you earlier but I left my cell phone in the house.” “Yeah, well it won’t be so funny when I send you a bill for varmint removal service.”

As I climbed back in our vehicle, my wife took one look at me and instinctively knew not to ask what happened. Needless to say, it was a very quiet shopping trip. The way I was throwing things into our cart, my wife thought it best to send me off to get paper towels and toilet tissue while she got the eggs then picked out some tomatoes and other vegetables.

Another great adventure comes to an end. It doesn’t get any better than this, well, unless you’re talking about the awesome beauty of a Florida sunset. That might just be a step up from this story.

I guess as we travel the road of life, we can never be really sure which way the road will turn…one thing for sure though, if you see one of your neighbors standing in a field just wave and keep on driving.

© 2010 SunGlo Photography

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I Taut I Taw a Puddy Tat

A Picture and a Thousand Words :

A Picture and a Thousand Words

I’m a talker, yup, I’m one of those people that dare talk to you on an elevator or while you’re washing your hands in the men’s room. I will strike up a conversation with complete strangers just about anywhere. My wife will tell you that sometimes she wishes I came with an off button. That I have a bad case of diarrhea mouth. Her favorite saying is “Silence is golden.” It’s odd though, she only seems to share that tidbit of information with me…over and over, humm.

One thing I’ve discovered through the years is that people are interesting and with a little prodding, are more than willing to tell you their story. Now, with me being a freelance photographer you can imagine how this “talent” comes in handy. Well, I think of it as a talent but my wife clearly puts it in the annoying habit column. In any case, it really helps me get the story behind the pictures. Sometimes interesting, sometimes sad, sometimes down right weird, but in every case it helps me add bricks to my tower of knowledge.

The Ultimate Truck Wash

There are a lot of times when a photo op drops right in your lap. This was one of those days.

I was just getting ready to leave the house when I noticed a group of emergency vehicles parked along the main road. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but in this case it just might bring home the bacon. So I grabbed my camera and headed over to find out what all the fuss was about.

Having learned from many a past oops, my “ya don’t gotta hit me with a brick” instinct kicked in and I yelled over to the group of police officers “Is it okay if I come over there?” In this case, it was a resounding “SURE”. Believe it or not, sometimes the answer is a very abrupt “NO” either because they don’t want their picture taken or it’s a sealed crime scene.

I took a quick look around and having noticed nothing out of the ordinary asked “What’s going on?” I immediately knew I had missed something when everyone got a “are you STUPID” look on their face. Pointing toward the canal, the officer in charge said “That!” Oops, how in the world could I have missed a large red truck roof in the middle of the canal?

Trying to recover my dignity, I asked “Okay if I snap some pictures?” “Sure, just don’t make us look bad”. Ugh, is it me or are things not going well? Smiling, I indicated I wasn’t with the local newspaper and that I always make my subjects look good…that is unless they give me a hard time. That caused everyone to laugh and from that point on things went smoothly.

We chatted while the officers waited for a tow truck to arrive. I learned that a member of the police dive team had already verified the vehicle was empty. The diver also stated that he saw evidence in the truck that led him to believe it had been intentionally driven into the canal.

When the tow truck finally arrived, we stood back and watched as they maneuvered in to position to remove the truck from the canal.

I was about to ask how they were going to hook the cable to the truck when a towing company employee appeared in a full set of scuba gear. Boy, am I glad I didn’t ask that question.

Since I had never seen an operation like this before, I’ll have to admit that it was fascinating to watch and each time they progressed to the next stage, it would generate a whole host of questions in my mind.

Needless to say, I was very careful about which ones I asked since I certainly did not want to revert back to a “are you STUPID” status.

Once they had successfully hoisted the truck back on dry land, the officers took over and started searching the vehicle.

A well placed chunk of concrete block lying on the gas pedal made it obvious that the truck was indeed scuttled. Further inspection of the vehicle revealed that it had been stripped of all personal items leading the officers to believe it was the owner who sent it for a swim in an apparent attempt to get out from under the monthly payments. But at this point it was all speculation and someone else would have to make that determination.

Grabbing the Brass Ring

Whenever I’m out in a vehicle my camera equipment is usually sitting right behind the driver’s seat. Such is the life of a “freelancer”, I never know when a golden opportunity will present itself and I sure don’t want to be saying “Man I wish I had my camera with me.”

During those golden opportunities when my wife is along, she’s patient with me and puts up with my antics…well, most of the time. She’ll be by my side if I need help, but usually waits in our vehicle to “stay out of the way” as she puts it. In reality, I don’t think she likes having her picture taken and doesn’t want to take a chance of that happening. What makes her think I would do something like that is beyond me.

Now, as I said, my wife tolerates my antics. She puts up with me being away from our vehicle for long periods while I fill my memory card with images. However, if she sees me “chewing the fat” with someone, the clock starts ticking. Precisely eight minutes and one second into my conversation she’ll yank my “electronic leash” and my cell phone will ring with “YOUR BOSS” displayed in the caller ID window. Like Pavlov’s dog, I react to the stimulus. I know if I don’t end the conversation I’m going to wind up in the dog house.

I truly enjoy being a freelance photographer, but unlike most jobs it can be an emotional rollercoaster. At any given time, you never know what will show up in front of your lens.

There are times when I feel totally helpless, unable to do anything to alter the end result of an event that is unfolding in front of my camera lens. Those are the times you have to ignore your human side which says you should do something to help the people even though you know there is absolutely nothing you can do.

But it’s really hard to ignore the emotion involved with photographing a family as they watch their home go up in smoke. Seeing the sadness and worry behind their blank stare. Yes, they were lucky that everyone made it to safety unharmed and even the family pet was saved. But they had gone from eating dinner to homeless in a blink of an eye. The place they called home was now a mass of smoke, fire, and charred timbers.

It goes on and on. The woman who lost control of her car while negotiating a curve and the compassion shown by the firemen as they treated her cuts and bruises. And the ones that stayed with her, providing water to drink and a shoulder to lean on while she waited for the police to arrive.

The firemen valiantly trying to extinguish a trailer fire. Determined to keep the fire from spreading to adjacent units in the tightly packed trailer park.

And fire crews having to standby and watch the beast turn nature’s beauty into a charred wasteland because there were no access roads and both the fire boat and helicopter were in use at other fires.

This is real life and these are the things that my wife and I have stumbled upon as we’re out and about in our vehicle.

Then there are the “pressure” shots where you only have one chance to get the picture…no retakes.

Although I enjoy being referred to as “Official Team Photographer” for a local high school wrestling program, the title comes a lot of responsibility. I constantly worry about letting the team down. Did I get shots of every match, a shot of all the wins, what about the award ceremony and the pressure builds.

By now you’re probably asking “Well, why do it?” I do it for the smile that appears on a wrestlers face when he talks about his pictures from the last meet, the proud way they say “this is our team photographer” to the other teams at a meet, and the way they make me feel like I’m part of the team. That’s why I do it. I may not be paid money, but they allow me to share in their happiness, their sadness, and anger. They’ve made me a member of their family and that makes me a very wealthy man.

I’m happy to say that not every golden opportunity is “doom and gloom” or a “pressure” situation. In fact an overwhelming amount can be placed in the “Wow, that was Neat” column. Well, to be totally honest, not every picture is a “WOW” either. There are some that could be considered “blah” and thus would clearly wind up in the “Ho-Hum” column.

There are the “aaah” shots like when my nephew and his family came for a visit. My nephew’s son was at that “cutesy” curious about everything stage and he was easy to photograph since he liked having his picture taken. This was also a bad thing since his uncle, the photographer, filled lots of memory cards with his image. Oh, and of course those very same “cutesy” pictures will haunt him forever which will probably eliminate me from ever being his favorite uncle.

And then there are the best golden opportunities of all, the “improv” pictures. It’s where I get to wing it and shoot anything that moves or looks like it might move, heck I’ll even shoot it if it doesn’t move. Anything that will make a great picture winds up in my memory card. No doom and gloom, no pressure, just a lot of fun and pure enjoyment.

I never know what kind of images I’ll come away with when I set out on a “photo safari”. That’s what makes them so much fun.

Most challenging are the night shots. That’s because, well, it’s dark...duh. Trying to set your camera when you left your flashlight at home can be a real nightmare. In the end though, night shots tend to be the most dramatic and produce lots of oohs and ahs.

The “I wish” shots take the most patience. Things like animals, reptiles, birds, you know, the neat things that not everyone gets to see on a regular basis. I call them “I wish” shots, because that’s what I’m constantly saying to myself…“I wish you would at least look at me”, “I wish you would stop scratching”, and the most common one “Dagummit, I wish you would hold still.” When I get to that stage it starts down hill and the next words that come out are usually ones that would have gotten my mouth washed out when I was a kid.

Needless to say, when I snapped this picture of an American crocodile the only sound you could hear was the pounding of my heart…loudly…from fear. She was twelve feet long and looking straight at me. Oh, and trust me, that wasn’t a smile on her face. In all my travels, this is the only one of that endangered species I have ever come across.

Unlike most raccoons, the ones that live on Sanibel Island, Florida are not nocturnal. It’s quite common to see them out during daylight hours when the tide is low.

This particular raccoon was a good twenty feet up in a strangler fig tree snacking on the ripe fruit. Well, at least he was until I pointed my camera at him. My guess is he wanted to make sure I got his good side. They can also be seen out on the mud flats during low tide where they feed on crustaceans.

Then there are the inevitable bird pictures. You knew they would show up sooner or later, didn’t you.

I always come home from one of our “photo safaris” with some bird shots. There’s plenty to choose from in our neck of the woods and it doesn’t hurt to have an excellent spotter along with you. My wife is great at spotting the ones I miss…which means she’s usually pretty busy.

Unfortunately, there are a lot of bird species that are in trouble and their numbers are dwindling. That list of species keeps getting longer and longer. The fortunate thing is federal, state, and local governments have enacted laws to protect those species. But it still comes down to everyone working to insure all species survive. Humans and “critters” can coexist through reasonable land management that doesn’t over burden land owners but still protects the “critters”.

Here are some shots of birds that are not often seen by the general public. A Florida burrowing owl (species of special concern), a Florida scrub jay (threatened species), a roseate spoonbill, and for good measure, the majestic American bald eagle (threatened species).

Birds are definitely an “I wish” subject, sometimes it can be a real challenge getting the shot you want.

Since I’m hearing some yawns, maybe it’s time to wind up my ramblings.

People having fun in the sun are always good for some interesting shots. The fast paced crowd seems to have a need for speed and their way of enjoying a day on the open water is riding on a powerful little jet ski. They’ve become a common sight, but it’s still fun to watch them zip around.

If you’re not up to zipping along on a jet ski, you can try your hand at sailing. You can’t beat it for quiet slow paced water travel. Oh, and did I mention that you actually can sit back and enjoy the scenery…my kind of boating. Arrr, wind in yer sails and a star…ah, GPS ta guide ya.

And then there’s the beach, lay back, relax, and let the cares of the day wash away with the waves…aaah, the carefree life of a beach bum.

I always like to throw in some odd pictures just to make people say “What the…huh?” Just some odds and ends that at the time, I thought would make a neat picture. Like the little kid with an ice cream cone with drips running down their hand and a messy face, they just screamed out…“TAKE MY PICTURE!”

You just can’t beat living in paradise, especially if you’re a photographer. Sunshine everyday means lots of opportunities to capture awesome images and then at the end of the day, there’s always a golden prize. Well, maybe not during the “rainy season”, but most days.

Now, I know some of you are scratching your heads and thinking “Wait a minute, the title says ‘A Picture and a Thousand Words’ there’s way more than one picture and a whole lot more than a thousand words in this story.” Well, I really didn’t think you would be happy with just one picture and as for the words, hey, I am a talker, so did you really think I could tell a story in a thousand words? Consider it a picture and a thousand words plus a bonus for being so nice and taking the time to read my story.

Another great adventure comes to an end. It doesn’t get any better than this, well, unless you’re talking about mom’s apple pie on a summer afternoon. That might just be a step up from this story.

I guess as we travel the road of life, we can never be really sure which way the road will turn…one thing for sure though, if you’re holding your camera backwards every picture you take will be a self portrait.

© 2010 SunGlo Photography

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A Picture and a Thousand Words

Gone Fishing :

Gone Fishing

Did you ever get up in the morning with absolutely no ambition and even getting your butt out of bed seems like a monumental task? You know, where you start out slow and kind of taper off from there. It’s what I call a “vegetable” day, a day of doing nothing, a day where you just sit around and act like a head of lettuce, a day like the one I was facing.

I had managed to finally make it out to the family room couch and was just reaching for the TV remote when it happened. A major conflict, out of no where one part of me decided it was quite content with doing nothing all day while the other part started complaining about wasting a perfectly good day sitting around, nag, nag, and nag. Now, because of a guilty conscience, I’m tossed between doing nothing and doing something. In an instant, my planned “vegetable” day had turned into a tossed salad.

The more I thought about it, the more I knew I had to find middle ground, a way to mitigate the conflict. To begin with, I can’t openly sit around and do nothing because if my wife catches me she’ll break out her “honey-do list” and in a flash I’ll have a bunch of tasks to complete. All that hard work and sweat would quickly turn my tossed salad into a wilted salad. No, no I would have to find some “busy work” as a cover. With that settled, the new question was “What can I use as a cover?” Humm…wait, I’ve got it. My mission, should I choose to accept it, will be to free-up some storage space on my computers hard drive. My modus operandi will be to copy all the older image files to removable storage disks. Once the mission is complete, the old image files on the hard drive will self destruct. The beauty of this plan is that I appear to be working hard, but in reality I’m just sitting around waiting for the computer to write the image files on the storage disks…brilliant.

The one thing I failed to take into consideration is that in no time I’m bored to tears and my idle mind starts looking for creative ways to occupy itself. Before I even realize what’s happening, my mind is coming up with strange titles and mini stories for each picture displayed on my computer screen. The scary thing is that in no time I’ve come up with a theme of “Gone Fishing” and I already have odd little tales for several of the images.

For instance, this picture of a little blue heron reminded me of a game we played at Halloween parties when I was a kid. It was called “bobbing for apples”. I could never figure out the purpose of the game other than making everyone that played look like a complete idiot. Based on that game, it was a no brainer to come up with a title.

“Bobbing for Nemo”

I remember asking the guy in the next picture if he was catching anything. “No, no I’m just waiting for the big ones to show up” he responded. I stood there looking confused until suddenly the little light bulb came on. Whoa, he really didn’t care if he caught a fish or not. He was there to relax and forget about the hectic world around him. I wonder if he even had any bait on his hook. I’m thinking he’s got it right, when the pressure gets to be too much just go fishing.

“Hoping the Fish Won’t Bite”

The picture below had me scratching my head until I realized it reminded me of three people I used to work with. The first was a real “mover and shaker” he would dig down deep and stir things up until he came up with something. The second coworker was a “top feeder” who would wait until things were stirred up and then just pluck a few things off the surface to claim as his own. And finally, the third was a “watcher”, you know the type, they just stand around watching everyone else do all the work.

“Pecking Order“

After I snapped the next picture, I sat around for the longest time trying to figure out what the heck this guy was doing. At first I thought he was catching mullet to eat, but if that were true why would he need a kayak and all that fishing equipment. Finally, in desperation, I used my telephoto lens to zoom in as he emptied his net. Suddenly everything was crystal clear. He was catching small fish. When he finally got around to paddling his kayak out to where the “big ones” were lurking, he was going to use them as bait to catch a delicious, nutritious dinner entree. Now, if it were me, I don’t think I’d be real thrilled sharing a seat with a bunch of slimy little fish and seaweed. I would rather be sitting in a restaurant booth waiting for my fish dinner to be served.

“Fish in Boat“

Snowy egrets are quite common in my little corner of the world and since I have so many pictures of them I tend to give other species preferential treatment.

I was determined to get a shot of one of them with a fish in their beak, so I was shooting a continuous burst of images. Since everything was happening so fast, I really wasn’t sure if I was getting anything worth while or not so I finally gave up and moved on. As it turns out, one of my shots was worth the trouble, it was pretty cool.

Okay, so you’re probably a step ahead of me and have already guessed the title for this one.

“One that Got Away”

It was definitely not smooth sailing when this next picture was taken. The balance and skill those two fishermen exhibited was amazing. If I was in the boat, I would have demonstrated a hundred ways to fall overboard and that would have been between my bouts of seasickness. The truly unbelievable thing is during the whole time they were out there, they were casting their net out and slowly filling the boat with large mullet. There were several times when I saw the bow of the boat plunge into a wave and I swore that was it, they were going under. In the end, they survived the ordeal and headed in with a full load of fish. Remembering how my stomach felt watching the boat that day made it real easy to come up with a title.

“That Sinking Feeling”

I could go on and on, but I’ve pretty well cleared as many image files off my hard drive as I dare. Besides, I can only keep this charade up for so long before my wife catches on to my little game. I guess it’s time to face the music and go get my “honey-do” task. Humm, I wonder what kind of busy work I can come up with for tomorrow.

Another great adventure comes to an end. It doesn’t get any better than this, well, unless you’re talking about striking oil in your back yard. That might just be a step up from this story.

I guess as we travel the road of life, we can never be really sure which way the road will turn…one thing for sure though, whenever you want to do nothing always have something to cover your tracks.

© 2010 SunGlo Photography

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Five Years :

Five Years

It’s been five years of searching. Five years of chasing leads and winding up empty handed. I knew they existed, I’d seen pictures of them in the newspaper. Five years of telling people “Nope, don’t have any pictures of them.” Five years and I had lost all hope of every finding one. Just as I was ready to close the book on them, I started to receive new leads detailing more sightings. Even though it was more of the same “I just saw them” or “There’s always some there”, I had a different feeling about these leads…I don’t know, call it a hunch, maybe just wishful thinking, but somehow I knew one would lead me directly to them.

The first, and in my opinion the most promising, was in the Cecil Webb Wildlife Management Area. I had received a phone message in which the caller indicated he could see them from where he was standing. His description left no doubt, he was indeed looking directly at one of them. Since it was late in the day, I made plans to visit the management area the following afternoon.

The next day my wife and I loaded up our vehicle around two in the afternoon and off we went to the wildlife management area. We searched and searched…saw lots of critters and some awesome wildflowers. Spent the whole afternoon looking and even queried a fellow photographer, but in the end it was another promising lead that didn’t produce the elusive image.

A few days later and it was another lead. This time it was an email from a friend who was told by a friend that they had seen some of them. A tip from a friend of a friend, yeah right, this sounds real promising. More like another wasted trip chasing the proverbial wild goose.

Even though the details were rather vague, we were off and running shortly after receiving the email. In no time, things went from positive to negative. Once again, we were riding up and down a road looking for them and once again, we didn’t spot a single one of them. I was beginning to feel like we were the butt of a joke and our soon to be ex-friend was hiding behind one of the many bushes watching us make fools of ourselves and laughing her head off.

Finally, at my wife’s insistence, we stopped and I talked to a older couple who were working in their yard. We had a great chat and yes, they told me the exact spot where I could find some of them. I ran back to our vehicle. I was pumped because it was finally going to happen, the elusive image was all mine. I broke the speed limit getting to the spot and pulled over to the side of the road. We were at the spot, the exact spot, this was it, and…and…nothing, they were nowhere in sight. Not again, but…but they are supposed to be here…UGH! Just like many times before, we left empty handed and definitely not very happy campers.

We had some errands to run and on our way back home, my wife suggested that since the spot where they were supposed to be was kind of on our way, why not give it a second chance. As we passed by the spot, I was unable to slow down because the car behind us was so close to our bumper I was sure they were trying to remove some of the paint. Just as I passed the spot, my wife said “I think I saw something with very long legs.” At the risk of losing more than just bumper paint, I didn’t dare hit the brakes. We decided we would play it safe and use the alternate access route the couple had provided.

I parked our vehicle and then took the long walk to the spot where my wife saw the long legs. As I arrived, I scanned the area but didn’t see them. Just as I was deciding my wife may need to visit the eye doctor soon, I saw movement to my left. As I spun around, there they were, three of them, mom, dad, and the kid. They were indeed tall and quite large. They were beautiful, they were staring at me…oh, wait, I’m supposed to take a few pictures. Well, it was such an overwhelming sight that a few pictures turned into three-hundred and twenty-two, to be precise.

Wow, five years and we finally found them. Funny, the odd way they were looking at me it was almost as if they were saying “What took you so long?”

Here they are…Mr. and Mrs. Sandhill Crane.

Oh, and lets not forget their kid.

It was a perfect day for the family to enjoy some time together foraging for good things to eat.

Well, that only took five years to get that off my list…humm, I wonder what’s next.

Another great adventure comes to an end. It doesn’t get any better than this, well, unless you’re talking about finding a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. That might just be a step up from this story.

I guess as we travel the road of life, we can never be really sure which way the road will turn…one thing for sure though, if you pass the same tree more than once, you may want to consider the fact that you just might be going in circles.

© 2010 SunGlo Photography

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Heroes Everyone :

Heroes Everyone

Memorial Day is one of many long holiday weekends where families get together for a picnic at the park, on the beach, or just in the backyard. With each new generation, the real purpose of the holiday seems to be getting lost in all the fun activities. It has slowly become yet another of those meaningless generic holidays.

Thinking back to my childhood days, I remember the “patriotic” holiday with a special fondness. A sea of red, white, and blue and a community focused on one purpose, to honor the men and women who died while serving in our armed forces. The very people who paid the ultimate price to keep us a free nation safe from invading forces bent on taking over the world.

Those were wonderful days and a period when we truly believed in our country. It was a simpler life and a great time to be a kid. We spent our summers hanging out with all our friends in the neighborhood, our gang. Looking back, I’m amazed at how well we got along. Yeah, we had our differences, but we always seemed to resolve them before it was time to go home for supper and we did it all without adult supervision. We treated everyone the same way we wanted to be treated and that worked out just fine and dandy. At our age, the only prejudice we seemed to have was “girls”, we would sooner kiss a lizard than hang out with a girl.

The 1950’s were an awesome time, we would leave the house in the morning to go “play” and not return until the sun started to set and the street lights came on. It was a safe world, a fun world, a magical world. We built forts down in the woods, played baseball in the school yard, listened to rock ‘n roll, and watched Bandstand on small black and white televisions.

We were able to enjoy our childhood because of the dedication of our military and the morals our parents and our leaders possessed. We had politicians that actually believed in and cared about our great country. Wars were run by generals not politicians and the end game was nothing short of total victory. No one thought about it, no one worried about it, it was just the way things were, a truly amazing time to live and an awesome time to be a kid growing up.

Sadly that all changed and our simple, “Brady Bunch” lifestyle disappeared with our involvement in the Korean and Vietnam wars. From that point on, our wonderful childhood ceased to exist, never to be regained. We became a nation lost in a sea of drugs, war protests, and crime. We treated our returning military not as heroes, but as villains. We went from what’s best for our country to what’s best for me and never looked back.

Our whole world had been turned upside down and as much as I wish we could, I don’t believe we can ever return to the days of caring about our neighbors and country. Our new “ethic” is ingrained in our DNA and sooner or later it will pop back out when we see a chance for fame or fortune. We have political parties that will do anything, even destroy each other just to get elected to office. They are so blinded by revenge they don’t even realize what they are doing to our great nation.

You might be asking yourself who created this mess. Well, conservatives blame the liberals, liberals blame the conservatives, and independents blame everyone. Then you have government blaming the private sector, the private sector blaming big government and it goes on and on. Who’s really at fault? There is only one place to lay the blame and it’s a bitter pill to swallow. We are at fault and we allowed this to happen.

We the people who only care about ourselves, who reelect incompetent politicians based solely on the fact that they have seniority and are bringing “pork” back into our district.

We the people who can’t even take the time to read about the very politicians for whom we are voting. It’s oh so much simpler just to vote a straight party ticket.

We the people who keep up with current events by watching comedy shows and ignore more accurate legitimate news sources.

We the people who vote based on what’s cool instead of an informed decision.

And we the ignorant people who can’t even take the time to go to the polls and vote, yet still seem to have the time to complain because “our candidates” weren’t elected.

Men and women have fought and died to give us the right to elect a responsible governing body. We dishonor them by not taking our voting rights seriously.

It’s time we got back to our roots. It’s time to stop the whining and complaining and do something to resolve our problems. It’s time we stopped thinking about what’s good for me and started thinking about how we can help others and our great nation. And most of all, it’s time to stop making excuses and take the time to honor the men and women of our armed forces and especially those who gave their lives to preserve our freedom…sons and daughters, dads and moms, heroes everyone.

Another story comes to an end. Thanks for taking time away from your busy schedule to read my ramblings.

I guess as we travel the road of life, we can never be really sure which way the road will turn…one thing for sure though, always take the time to thank the ones that paved the way for you.

© 2010 SunGlo Photography

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Heroes Everyone

Happiness is a Butterfly :

Happiness is a Butterfly

Did you ever have one of “those” days? You know, the kind of day where you wake up feeling less than chipper. My wife refers to it as the “zombie with an attitude rising from his grave”. Yeah, that really helps cheer me up, how can little Miss Sunshine be so happy that early in the morning? It takes two cups of coffee just to get my eyes open and even after a third cup I’m still not Mr Personality but at least I have my attitude on a leash.

Today’s the day we had planned on visiting Manatee Park in Lee County, Florida. As we stepped into our vehicle we were positive the day would get better and we would have an enjoyable time. Yeah, right, the trip out to the park was more like stumbling in the briar patch than tiptoeing through the tulips. Everyone that shouldn’t be behind the wheel of a car, was behind the wheel, and to make matters worse they were all in front of us showing off their poor driving skills.

My attitude was now straining at the leash. After a string of cuss words and substantially reducing the life of our vehicles brake pads, we finally made it to the park. At that point, both of us were definitely not calm and collected. Little Miss Sunshine was now displaying storm clouds and remarking rather loudly about how the mass migration of “snow birds” to their northern nests was taking far too long.

Now, I know you’re expecting to hear me say that once we stepped out of our vehicle we were immediately whisked away to an ideal world. A world where the bugs don’t bite and the song birds can tame even the angriest of beasts. Unfortunately, that would be stretching the truth.

The temperature had risen into the high eighties and so had the humidity, ugh! If that wasn’t bad enough, when we went to pay for parking neither of us had any dollar bills so we wound up depositing five dollars in the slot for all day parking even though we would be leaving in less than two hours. My attitude just broke its leash. It was then that my wife suggested the volunteers in the welcome center be spared a visit from “the attitude” so I bypassed the center and walked off mumbling to myself.

The farther I walked with my head down mumbling, the more I became aware of a pleasant smell in the air. When I finally looked up, I was amazed to find beds of beautiful wildflowers all around me. They were in full bloom and awesome.

Maybe, just maybe, this might be a good time to slip the leash back on my attitude.

As my wife caught up to me, we decided we would head over to the Manatee viewing area.

Now, we both knew it was too late in the season to actually see Manatee, but we were still a little disappointed as we stared at the calm, murky water. No Manatee, not even a sign saying see you next fall.

As we proceeded down the walk we came upon yet another garden which appeared to contain all native plants and trees. The vast majority of them were in full bloom and there was a large sign indicating the area we were looking at was a butterfly garden.

I was just remarking that everyone knows butterflies don’t grow in a garden they grow on trees, when I was interrupted by a loud “yikes”. I turned around in time to see a snake cross right in front of my wife. As I started to ask if she was okay, I was cut off by yet another yell.

Now, I’ve been married long enough to know that you never, ever, laugh in this type of situation, but I have to admit it was a real challenge to keep it from slipping out.

There on the fence rail next to my wife’s hand was a tree frog. My well worn copy of “The Perfect Husbands Handbook” indicates that the proper phrase for a situation like this is “Are you alright dearie?” Unfortunately, the phrase that immediately came back at me was “Don’t you dearie me!” At that point we both burst out laughing.

I have found that when nature presents a golden opportunity, you only have one chance to take advantage of it. If you drag your feet, it will disappear just as fast as it appeared.

As I bent down to snap some pictures of Kermit, he began hopping towards me. As I backed up, he followed me. This was strange behavior since they usually shy away from humans. As I looked through my camera’s lens, I had the very distinct impression Kermit was posing for me. Suddenly, Kermit got a big smile on his face and poof he disappeared from my view finder. I was just getting ready to ask where he had gone when I looked at my camera and there was Kermit sitting atop my lens, smiling.

Since he was nice enough to pose for me, I carried him over to a rather large bush and when I got close to a branch he jumped off. It was then that my wife and I realized Kermit was the snake’s lunch and the reason Kermit was so happy to see us was because we were his way out of a rather nasty situation. Humm, he’s a pretty smart little critter. Giving Kermit another chance at life had me feeling a little better and my attitude was now sitting over in a corner moping.

While we continued our walk, we commented on the various wildflowers and enjoyed their beauty and fragrance. All of a sudden, out of nowhere they appeared in front of us flitting from flower to flower. They were beautiful; they were butterflies in all different sizes and colors. I could feel a smile growing on my face. At the same time I heard a “poof” and saw a small cloud of smoke as my attitude disappeared and a feeling of happiness washed over me. This was truly a magical experience.

It was almost as if we were watching angels fly right before our eyes. I looked over at my wife and when our eyes met, we both knew, not a word had to be spoken. The day’s rough start was forgotten, replaced by a magic moment, a special page in our book of memories.

Now, I’ve never had a butterfly land on me so I can only imagine how it feels. I’m guessing it would be as close as you could get to being kissed by an angel. I wish I could say it happened, but it didn’t. That would have been the perfect ending.

Another great adventure comes to an end. It doesn’t get any better than this, well, unless you’re talking about soaring with the eagles That might just be a step up from this story.

I guess as we travel the road of life, we can never be really sure which way the road will turn…one thing for sure though, if you're going to shoot a close-up of a frog make sure you bring along some lens cleaner.

© 2010 SunGlo Photography

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Happiness is a Butterfly

Yesterday and Today :

Yesterday and Today

After returning from a visit to my old home town, I was telling my neighbor how much things had changed there and that I sure wouldn’t want to move back to that area. Three seconds after I finished my statement, I heard the words. It’s the same worn out phrase that you’re bound to hear anytime you talk about the past. “You know, they say you can never go back.” Who came up with that and while we’re on the subject, who are “they”? I just went back, the town was still there and so were some of my childhood friends. You can go back. Just don’t expect a time warp, don’t expect everything to be just as it was when you left…ain’t gonna happen!

The next day, I was rummaging through my picture archives. Now this is not my favorite thing to do because of the dust. You know, that gray stuff that seems to cover everything and inevitably winds up in your nose making you sneeze all over your clean shirt.

I was searching for an image disk. Not just any old image disk, but a special one. The disk that held my prized photograph, the one that started it all. It was the very first of my pictures published for the whole world to see. Well, maybe not the whole world, more like just a few local counties.

Having well over four hundred thousand images in my archives, I was muttering “not nice” words since I still had not cataloged all the boxes and their contents. Finally, by dumb luck, I found the right one when in mid sneeze I banged my head on a single archive box. As I wiped the dust off my forehead and focused on the label I was amazed to find the box actually contained the special disk. As I came out of the closet smiling, my wife took one look at me and asked “What happened to your shirt?” I was going to explain but since we were just getting ready to sit down to lunch, I decided right now probably wasn’t a good time. I just mumbled something incoherent and headed off to change my shirt.

The problem with viewing a photograph from the past is you immediately notice everything you did wrong. All the things you would have done differently had you been taking the picture today. Suddenly a strange feeling came over me. The more I stared at the image in front of me, the more I understood. I realized for the first time that I was wrong. I know it’s hard to believe but I was actually wrong. What “they” say is really true, “You can’t go back.” Yesterday is history and the subject of the picture I was staring at does not exist in today’s world.

That set my mind spinning. Just think about it, whenever you press a camera’s shutter button it captures a unique moment in time. A segment of time that can never be replicated, it’s gone forever. Sure, if the subject is available you can try to retake a picture, but you still can’t match the original moment in time. Whoa, deep, I'm impressed.

To prove my point, let’s compare the images below. The one on the left is the one that started it all, my first published image.

It was captured in 2004 and depicts one of the many picturesque locations in and around the small artsy town of Matlacha, Florida. Sadly, the two sailboats and much of the vegetation were damaged when several hurricanes passed through the area.

So, looking at “today’s” image on the right, one would quickly come to the conclusion that the only thing that remains from “yesterday’s” image is, well, “yesterday’s” image.

After mulling over all my ramblings thus far, I managed to come up with yet another theory. Pressing the shutter button of a camera appears to produce more than a picture for everyone to enjoy. Well, some pictures are enjoyable, others are down right embarrassing. The captured image is basically a historical document, a moment in time preserved for future generations to see. Whoa, heavy, I need to change my business cards to read “Photographer / Historian”.

You’re laughing at my theory, I know you are, but think about this one simple situation represented by the images below. The dam and boat lift pictured on the left were removed to prevent the destruction of acres of protected mangroves. If we only had today’s image on the right, people would have no idea how the site been altered or what affect the change had on the ecology. Not laughing now are you. I accept your apology. I guess I can change my business cards now.

Okay, now I’ll leave you with something to think about. Below are “today” pictures of just four of the many species of wildlife that are in trouble. They are having problems surviving, producing offspring, and continuing the species. Thanks to the foresight of some groups and individuals there are reasonable laws in place that will help the survival rate of these species and many others, but more needs to be done. What do you want “tomorrow’s” pictures to look like?

American Bald Eagle — Threatened Species

Florida Scrub Jay — Threatened Species

Wood Stork — Endangered Species

Gopher Tortoise — Threatened Species

Another great adventure comes to an end. It doesn’t get any better than this, well, unless you’re talking about sneaking down early Christmas morning and catching Santa Claus putting gifts under the tree. That might just be a step up from this story.

I guess as we travel the road of life, we can never be really sure which way the road will turn…one thing for sure though, when you're digging through dusty archive boxes wear an old shirt and carry a big handkerchief.

© 2010 SunGlo Photography

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Yesterday and Today

A Beauty in the Pawpaw Patch :

A Beauty in the Pawpaw Patch

“Do you have any pictures of…?” There they are again, those words, the challenge that gets the old heart pumping. Ah yes, another adventure, more like a quest, “In search of the perfect picture”. Yeah, right, more like “In search of any picture”. If it doesn’t move, I take its picture. If it moves, I take its picture. If it doesn’t move then suddenly moves toward me, I run…in all probability it’s going to bite me.

“Do you have any pictures of a beautiful pawpaw?” A what? P-a-w-p-a-w, pawpaw, wait, that’s a tree. I can find a tree. I see trees all the time, no sweat. I’ll just run out and get a shot of this pawpaw thingy and I’ll be the hero, a super hero. “Flash”, quickest shutter finger in the west. “Here I come to save the day”…no wait, now that I think about it that guy’s a mouse. “Hello, earth to Flash, we’re on a quest remember.”

Now, if I can just figure out what a beautiful pawpaw looks like? Whoa, it’s not a tree it’s a plant. Not only that, it’s an endangered species and to make matters worse it’s a small plant, a very small plant. So much for just running out and snapping a picture, this is going to be a bigger challenge than I thought. I have no idea where this thing calls home. Email time, I definitely need help on locating this one.

Well, at least I received a few responses to my email query. “What the heck is a pawpaw”, uh oh not a good start. “You’ve got to be joking”, I’ll take that one as a no. “There ain’t anything beautiful in our pawpaw patch”, things are not looking good. “We have one of the largest concentrations of beautiful pawpaw located right in our Preserve.” What? “We have one of the largest…” okay, okay I got the message. Awesome, I might just need to iron the wrinkles out of my cape, shazam.

Less than a mile up the road, 1, 2, 3, snap, this is going to be perfect. Now if I can just find the entrance, let’s see, he said gate 3. Here we go, gate 3…oh my God!

Forget about the cape, there’s no way I’m going to find that little plant. It's like looking for a needle in a haystack. Heck, Shrek could hide in here and never be found.

Everywhere I look, more of the same, I think I’m going to throw up.

My idea of roughing it is staying in a motel that doesn’t have a swimming pool and here I am traipsing through the wilderness with all kinds of nasty critters waiting to pounce on me.

If only I had a bazooka, yeah, a bazooka would give me courage. Oh no, now I sound like the cowardly lion in Oz. This place is pushing me over the edge. It sure is quiet out here, what’s that loud thumping? Whoa, that’s my heart.

Okay, time to get serious. Let's see, he said look left of the firebreak in open areas. Wow, plants, lots and lots of plants in all sizes and shapes. Well, I wanted a challenge and I guess I’ve got one. A very big one.

The problem is there’s a bunch of plants with leaves that look very similar to pawpaws. Ugh, they are pawpaws, just not the right ones. Wow, there’s more than one species of pawpaw in here. This is becoming more and more complicated with every step I take.

That looks like either a slim leaf pawpaw or a netted pawpaw. My guess is it’s a netted pawpaw. Maybe I could just say it’s a beautiful pawpaw all grown-up, on steroids, or just growing in great soil.

Man, there are all kinds of awesome wildflowers in here. Pretty much any shape, size, or color you’d ever want to see, and then some. Too many flowers for way too little time...ugh. Two hundred shots later, a very scary thought caused my shutter finger to freeze in mid snap. Suddenly I realized that for every wildflower image I capture it means hours on the internet searching for its name. Duh!.

After hours of searching, I came away with absolutely no beautiful pawpaw images or even ugly ones for that matter. The little buggers are playing hide and seek and doing a very good job of it. I guess it’s time to call it a day and go home to do more research so I can try, try another day.

On my way out, I ran into a bit of a problem. Well, to be specific, one of the local inhabitants ran into me. One look at the strange critter chasing after me and I quickly decided “cute” and “armadillo” should never be used in the same sentence. Since it disappeared back into the palmettos just as fast as it appeared I have to assume the wily critter came to the conclusion that I was no threat to its neighborhood. Taking advantage of the departure, I made my own quick getaway.

Ah yes, a new day and another golden opportunity to excel. Yeah right, more like another day for the no-see-ums to eat me alive. I can hardly wait to get back into the field…NOT. This time however, I’m armed with a new “wanted picture” provided by my friend at the Preserve. A quick look at the picture and I came to the shocking conclusion that I’ve been looking in all the wrong places. The internet pictures I found showed beautiful pawpaw growing in open vegetated areas, but this picture shows a plant growing in an open sandy area.

Now, if I can just make it in the Preserve without running into that non-cute neighborhood watch critter. Well, at least with this twenty mile an hour wind I won’t be breakfast for the no-see-ums. Now, let’s see if I can find one of those little foot thingy’s, ah, pawpaws.

Wow, I’ve covered a lot of ground and I still can’t find one of those little buggers.

The world is round, the world is round, and no I’m not going to walk off the edge. Ugh, I think my mind is about to go over the edge.

Hey, is that bird laughing at me? Nah can’t be. That is one strange bird. I think it’s been pounding far too many tree trunks.

That looks like an open sandy area over there. Think I’ll get lucky? I see, I see, I see a weed. No wait, next to the weed, is that one of them, a foot thingy? Wait, wait, don’t celebrate yet, check and be sure. It’s a, it’s, it is, it’s a beautiful pawpaw. Whoa, awesome, you are good, the man, Flash, what luck! Hey, wait, it wasn’t luck…research, skill, talent and, and, and a lot of help from my friend at the Preserve.

Another great adventure comes to an end. It doesn’t get any better than this, well, unless you’re talking about finding the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. That might just be a step up from this story.

Even though my wife isn’t mentioned in this story, I have to fess up and tell you she was with me every step of the way. Well, maybe not the time the armadillo came after us. One minute she was standing by my side and the next she was safely in our vehicle, doors closed and windows up, mouthing what was that? She puts up with my antics and I love her for it…did I mention she’s also a great cook?

I guess as we travel the road of life, we can never be really sure which way the road will turn…one thing for sure though, when you're out looking for foot thingy's, always carry a bottle of no-see-um repellent.

© 2010 SunGlo Photography

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A Beauty in the Pawpaw Patch

The Pepper Bush :

The Pepper Bush

Did you ever have the feeling that someone was watching you? It happened to me the other day. Now, you’re probably saying “Hey, no big deal, it happens all the time”. Yeah, that may be true, but in my case I was standing next to my vehicle in what is typically referred to as “the boondocks”. I’m telling you, there were no people, no houses, nothing but undeveloped land with an occasional pine tree or pepper bush. Not the best location to be in when that feeling pops into your head…downright scary.

I know what you’re thinking, what a great setting for a tabloid cover story. “Alien disguised as a pepper bush eats photographer” or “Photographer is victim of UFO drive-by abduction”. I have to admit, some of those thoughts did flash through my mind as I cautiously turned and headed back to my vehicle.

Just as I reached for the door handle, I saw movement out of the corner of my eye and I froze in place. The creature that was watching me stood a mere fifteen feet away. My fear was quickly replaced by panic and the tabloid headlines flashing through my mind were now reading “Black bear dines on local paparazzi” or “Bear attack definitely not a Kodak moment”.

Slowly, ever so slowly, I turned to face the threat. Expecting to see a purple people eater or a critter with large, sharp teeth, I was relieved to find nothing waiting to pounce on me. But just as I thought I was in the clear, I saw movement again. Aha, this time as I turned in the direction of the threat I was able to zero in on my nemesis. There it was, a dark almost black eye staring at me from behind the branches of a nearby pepper bush. With a sigh of relief and a quiet chuckle, I quickly realized my tormentor was not a threat at all. It was nothing more than a very curious Florida scrub jay.

As we made eye contact, the shoe was suddenly on the other foot. The jay froze and then immediately began to act as though it wasn’t watching me. Its look of total innocence reminded me of when I was a kid and got caught with my hand in the cookie jar. Any moment I was expecting to hear “Who me…no…no, I wasn’t watching you”.

Well, never one to miss an opportunity to capture a great photo, I cautiously approached the pepper bush. The last thing I wanted to do was scare off my little friend. But as I neared the bush, I was suddenly aware of more than one set of eyes peering out at me. Now I’m beginning to wonder if this was such a good idea. Florida scrub jays are a fairly docile critter, but so are dogs until they form up into a pack. As I continued toward the bush, more and more eyes were becoming visible.

Over a dozen sets of eyes were now peering at me and I’ve now closed the gap to less than five feet from the bush. Suddenly, I’m reminded of the Alfred Hitchcock movie “The Birds” and I stopped advancing.

Just when I thought everything was okay and I was going to capture some awesome photos, there was an unbelievably loud noise. Apparently, the jays had a different idea and flew the coop. Now I have to say that unless you’ve experienced it, you can’t even imagine the noise created by over a dozen panicked jays flying off into the sunset.

Well, it looks like the only shots I’m going to come away with are the twenty or so I took of the ground and sky as I instinctively put my hands up to protect myself from the fleeing birds. In doing so, I accidently pushed and held the shutter release button as some of the jays flew directly over my head.

I guess on the bright side, at least they didn’t unload dinner as they passed over head. A quick check of my pants assured me that I hadn’t done the same thing during my panic.

Just as I thought all was lost, the jays started returning to the pepper bush. One by one they flew in and strange as it may sound, they were now openly observing me. Not wanting to waste a golden opportunity, I raised my camera and began snapping pictures. After a while, I almost had the feeling they wanted to have their picture taken…well, maybe not but at least they weren’t flying away.

Florida scrub jays are one of the most trusting birds I have ever come across. One can only speculate if this is the cause of or the result of their threatened species status. Although I only spent a short time with the jays, I truly enjoyed my visit and those precious moments will always occupy a special place in my book of memories.

Another great adventure comes to an end. It doesn’t get any better than this, well, unless you’re talking about winning the lottery with a dollar ticket. That might just be a step up from this story.

Even though my wife isn’t mentioned in this story, I have to fess up and tell you she was with me every step of the way. Well, maybe not when the jays panicked and exited the pepper bush directly over my head. No, she was sitting in our vehicle laughing her head off at the sight of me ducking for cover. She puts up with my antics and I love her for it…did I mention she’s also a great cook?

I guess as we travel the road of life, we can never be really sure which way the road will turn…one thing for sure though, always wear a hat if you're out photographing birds.

© 2010 SunGlo Photography

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The Pepper Bush

The Tree :

The Tree

If I was to say I wanted to tell you about a tree, you would probably think I was going to describe some beautiful, exotic tree. In this case you would be wrong. The tree I’m going to tell you about looks like any other pine tree of the same species. You know the kind that you would have no qualms about walking up to or maybe even touching its bark. In the case of this particular one though, you may want to reconsider going anywhere near “The Tree”.

For years, I’ve spent time trying to capture images of a small family of big cypress fox squirrels. They were living in the northwest section of our city which is outside of their normal habitat range.

Time and time again, when I was lucky enough to spot one of the little critters, just as I would raise my camera to snap a picture, it would scurry up “The Tree” and disappear. Gone forever, vanished, poof.

It happened so many times I began thinking this was a magic tree or maybe an evil tree. I even wondered if it was an exotic carnivore, you know, one of those invasive species from some far off land.

It got so bad that I would check around the base of the tree looking for any discarded fur or bones but the only refuge I ever found was a crushed soda can and one well worn sandal. This was truly an encounter of the third kind...eerie, spooky, down right scary.

You never know when opportunity will knock on your door and this was the case as my wife and I happened to be driving past “The Tree”. Suddenly my wife yelled out “fox squirrel!” Needless to say, I slammed on the brakes, threw the gear selector into park and was out of the vehicle in a flash, camera in hand, and fully prepared to document the sighting.

As I ran toward “The Tree”, I saw a fox squirrel scurry up and around to the back side of the trunk. Hot on its tail, I followed it around with my camera poised to finally get the elusive picture. Abracadabra, shazam, poof, the squirrel was in front of me and a split second later it was gone. Like so many times before, it had magically disappeared into thin air.

I just could not believe this was happening to me, there has to be some logical explanation. I hung around for a while, even hid behind another tree, but the squirrel failed to reappear. I thought at one point I heard a muffled snicker, but I’m sure it had to be my imagination.

Needless to say, I was now referring to the furry little monster in terms that would have gotten my mouth washed out with soap when I was a kid. Finally, in total defeat, we drove off to complete our original mission.

Now there are times that I swear my wife loves to see me suffer. Apparently this was one of those times because once we had completed all our errands, my wife quietly suggested “On our way home, why don’t we run back by ‘The Tree’?” Ugh…so, like a lamb going to slaughter I headed back for yet another scary encounter with the tree from hell.

As we slowly passed “The Tree”, there up on a branch basking in the warm afternoon sun, was the sadistic little rodent.

No, no, no, that scraggly little rat was not going to make a fool of me again. This time I slowly walked toward “The Tree” and when I was within range, I snapped a picture of the little $@%! #&@#.

If nothing else, I could now prove the little demon was sitting in “The Tree”, alive, taunting me, just daring me to come closer. Like a fool, I fell into the trap. In a flash, all I was looking at was the demons butt as it disappeared into the vines that were wrapped around the trunk of the tree. Oh no, this cannot be happening, not again!

Slowly, ever so slowly, I made my way over to “The Tree”. I cautiously reached out a now shaking hand and touched the bark…no abracadabra, no shazam, no poof, no magic, no evil. I had not disappeared and I was still in the land of the living, albeit very, very, confused.

As I looked up the tree trunk, I couldn’t put my finger on exactly what was wrong, but something was definitely different. It took me a little while before I realized what had changed. The strange vine that covered the trunk was drooping from a lack of rain and parts of “The Tree” that I had not seen in the past were suddenly visible.

As I looked even closer, the elusive answer to the mystery suddenly came in to view. I could barely make it out because of the surrounding vines, but it was enough that I finally knew the solution. No, it wasn’t the scruffy, four legged nemesis I was seeing, what I was looking at was the ornery varmint’s “trap door”, the critters hiding place, its twig condo, a rather large nest.

All those years, my grubby little tormentor has been sitting in its cozy abode while hiding behind the vines, watching me, laughing at me as I walked round and round “The Tree”.

Now I love all Gods creatures, well, maybe not the snakes or spiders, but at this point I was really beginning to hate this nasty varmint. While dreaming of tying that nut eating antagonist to a well used railroad track, I was beginning to understand how the fuzzy rodent made it onto the threatened species list.

As I walked away I felt dejected, sad, downright upset the mystery was finally solved. In the end, it turned out “The Tree” was not magic or evil at all. It was nothing more than your average cone producing, sap dripping, pine tree.

As I reached my vehicle, my brain kicked in and a smile appeared on my face…a nest, a “Magic Nest”, wait, wait, a “Cloaking Nest”, or how about “The Invisible Squirrel”…humm, maybe, just maybe…nah, no one would ever believe me.

Another great adventure comes to an end. It doesn’t get any better than this, well, unless you’re talking about getting your first car. That might just be a step up from this story.

Even though my wife isn’t mentioned in this story, I have to fess up and tell you she was with me every step of the way. Well, maybe not when the squirrel was making a fool of me. No, she was sitting in our vehicle laughing her head off at the sight of me running around the tree trying to figure out how the squirrel disappeared. She puts up with my antics and I love her for it…did I mention she’s also a great cook?

I guess as we travel the road of life, we can never be really sure which way the road will turn…one thing for sure though, disappearing squirrels are only a figment of our imagination...sometimes.

© 2010 SunGlo Photography

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© 2010 SunGlo Photography

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