The Ten Thousand Islands Project - Part 1

There are a few Florida-based photographers that have captured the amazing qualities of the Ten Thousand Islands, the wilderness area of south Florida's gulf coast. Most well known is Clyde Butcher. If you haven't seen his work, please check it out. The Ten Thousand Islands are not easy to photograph for many reasons, not the least of which is you need a boat to access them. And you have to put up with a lot of other inconveniences as well (e.g., bugs, wind, tidal flats). But the islands draw you in with their pristine and very rugged beaches, and plenty of locations to capture sunsets (and quite often sunrises). Given that Florida is crazy with beaches (and has the keys as well), why bother going to one of these islands to photograph? Why bother, indeed.

Unlike most other photographers, I approach the Ten Thousand Islands from a canoe. For thirteen years, I have navigated my boat around the islands and have spent many days camping on rugged beaches, enduring heat and bugs. A long time ago, I fell in love with the Islands for their unforgiving wildness and desolate-looking beaches. And with my camera, I have tried to capture what I feel when I am out there. On the upside is the exhilarating sense of freedom and joy. On the other hand, the islands have been a severe test of my patience and resolve. Despite all the time and effort, I have yet to capture them in the way I envision. So every time I go out there, I tend to have a goal and I try to prepare accordingly. This last trip was no different.

The latest self-imposed project was to capture the island beaches recently decimated by hurricane Irma. Check out this photo, showing the eye of Irma directly over the south gulf coast, September 10.

The eye of Irma was off shore, about 33 miles from Chokoloskee Island. Chokoloskee is an inhabited island that sits in the middle of the Ten Thousand Islands. An 8-ft storm surge devastated the community and nearby Everglades City.

I expected to see broken trees strewn about the beaches. Surely, some beaches would be diminished significantly, while others would reap the benefits of a new layer of sand. Sand flats and oyster bars would be shifted dramatically, debris would litter the shallow waters. For a powerboat, it could be a navigational nightmare! From a canoe, not so much a problem.

I planned to camp on two of the islands where sunsets can be viewed conveniently from the beach, and with some intriguing hurricane-created driftwood, I might be able to capture an interesting scene or two. I had expectations, but also knew from experience, anything or nothing can happen.

A satellite image of a small portion of the Ten Thousand Islands. the red circle is our camp location for two nights.

On the first day, a fairly easy 8-mile paddle got us to our home for two nights, Panther Key (see photo above, red circle is camp location). Panther Key is a very large island that offers a vast beach and an optimal view of the sunset. With two nights, I anticipated lots of photography. Unfortunately, we also anticipated a violent storm late into the evening and early morning hours and consequently, did not want to camp out in the open as it blew through. So we chose to camp in a very secluded spot, where hurricane Irma downed trees and deposited enough sand and created enough open space for 4 small tents and 5 small boats. It was separated from the beach area that could not be accessed by foot and it was totally hidden from the evening's sun. High tide scheduled close to sunset would prevent me from photographing it.The video below gives you a glimpse of our home for two nights.

I was not happy being completely blocked from the beach with no way of accessing it unless I got in my canoe and paddled over to it. By afternoon, the winds kicked up to 20+ knots and I was in no mood to fight them just to get to the other side of the island for a sunset that likely would not provide much color or drama. Besides, the skies were darkened by the impending storm and we had already felt the rain drops. Basically, I was cramped in, surrounded by fallen dead trees. Frustrated that I would have no photography opportunities until the next day, I sulked. But then, it didn't take long for my mood to change and begin to enjoy the moment. I might have photography goals, but the joy of being in the Ten Thousand Islands goes beyond the camera.

My friends, at home on Panther Key

The storm blew through that night and before dawn, I got out of the tent and tended to the canoe that had filled with a few gallons of rain water. As I was bending over to bail out the water, I re-injured a recently injured back muscle and soon, I was laying in the tent with pain. OK, this would be another challenge, but with some patience and lots of Ibuprofen, I was determined. Soon the sun rose bringing a beautiful light and without much fanfare, the messiness of the dead trees looked amazing to me. I mustered up enough resolve to capture some scenes while hand-holding the camera.This is all it took to get my photography juices flowing again. My back would be a nagging annoyance for the remainder of this trip, but I could manage it. I had no choice.

Composing an image with all the messiness of tree debris is challenging, but that's when the warm light comes to the rescue. I added a warming filter to the lower portion of the scene to accentuate the warmness. If you notice anything, hopefully it is that there is new life evident among the dead.

 That's how it began, one day into the trip. Stay tuned and follow me on my photographic journey in trying to capture Florida's amazing Ten Thousand Islands.

Another handheld camera shot, this time, I adjusted the aperture to f20. Not ideal for sharpness, but it allows that sun burst to appear through the trees.

You Always Have Your Camera

Given the explosion of photography media, I would bet my life that most photographers have another job or some other means of income. I would also guess that a large number of those photographers want to be full time photographers, a life of sustainable passion. If you are one and maybe just starting out, you have a long road of hard work ahead of you. I have traveled this road for over ten years and what keeps me moving forward is that nagging desire to be a full time photographer. I have traveled at a moderate pace with an occasional sprint and very brief rest periods in between. I've encountered road blocks, have taken a detour now and then, and might even have backed up a little once or twice. But, overall I have made forward progress toward some intangible goal that might one day allow me to be a full time photographer.

You never know what you'll find around the bend.

I have to say though, that I would be perfectly happy with a photography hobby and nothing more. But somewhere along the way, I learned I could sell prints to strangers. I also learned that once you make a sale to someone that is not your best friend or sibling, you've come to a crossroads. At that point, I decided to move forward and was already thinking about the second sale. The nagging desire to be a full time photographer motivated me continuously, mainly because I simply wanted to be out there in nature with my camera all the time! But, as I continued forward, it became less about photographing for the sake of photographing, and became more about the work that goes into marketing and getting your photographs seen and sold. Despite all the time that went into that stuff, I always found time to get out and shoot.

Many mornings have been spent waiting for a sunrise to bring dramatic colors & clouds to reflect on the water. This is one example of hundreds of images taken where I did not quite get what I wanted.

Of course, things don't always go the way we want them to (life, am I right?). The weather has sucked lately and worse yet, hurricane Irma imposed a significant challenge. My RV (part time home) on Chokoloskee Island was destroyed by Irma. For the past two years, the RV was my home base located conveniently so I could easily access several photography locations within the Ten Thousand Islands Wildlife Preserve, Everglades National Park and Big Cypress National Forest, and many other locations on the gulf side of south Florida. Consequently, I had built up some portfolio momentum during that time. And then it ended as quickly as it started.

Sometimes, nature presents itself in unexpected ways. When looking for wide open spaces, we sometimes find our inspiration in those simple intimate scenes like this one.

In a good way, the set back has freed up some of my time to do other things that needed to be done, such as preparing for the upcoming art festival season. And it is this temporary detour that has really made me realize what is truly the steady force behind this long journey. It is not the sales or winning contests. It isn't about getting published or starting a YouTube channel. It isn't about exhibiting at a gallery. Those things happen sometimes, but these do not make up the steady force that keeps me going. In fact, it's not even about 'getting the shot' that drives me forward.

Figuring out how to capture oyster bars on Chokoloskee Bay became a mission. Beauty is in there somewhere and I had to try to capture it.

Instead, this is what it's all about. It's the desire to be there in the moment with the camera, regardless of the outcome. It's about that discovery of something; a place, a mood, a tree, a perspective, a bird. It's about experiencing the natural surroundings and being open to it. It's about the inspiration we draw from it and the intense focus that follows in order to create an image. It's the unrelenting patience we seem to muster when we are out in nature.

Nothing like birds to test your patience. Thank you birds for teaching me so much.

All that other stuff we have to do to advance our business or reputation is secondary and of no concern when we are in the moment with our camera. It's creating something with your camera that started the journey and it is the only thing that will be there consistently throughout the journey. I cannot wait to get back out there.

Experiment, try something new, simply play. Approaching photography in this way allowed me to capture these whirly bugs. Who knew they would be such wonderful subjects!

Photo Contests: What's the Point?

Best in Show in NANPA's 2017 showcase, Scapes category

I'd like to thank the photographer who recently posted the following comment on one of my Facebook posts for inspiring this entry:

"Many years ago I won a honorable mention and was published. Got no money, the magazine lost my slide and denied any wrong doing. Never applied again. I consider natures best a vanity publication."

This comment was in response to my mentioning that I will be applying to Nature's Best Backyards 2017 photo contest, as I have done every year since 2014. I have spent a total of $120 on this contest and the only time I was recognized was in 2014 for this image of a green iguana (see below). The photo was printed in the beautiful Nature's Best Photography's magazine and I received no monetary reward.

I don't know what compelled that photographer to make that comment other than to let people know he's been a photographer for decades and is too important to be bothered with said contest, but it got me thinking about my motivations for submitting images to this and other contests.

One of the winner's in the 2014 Nature's Best Backyards photo contest

In all honesty, any photographer likes to see his or her image recognized by other photographers. Period. Perhaps the potential monetary reward is what drives one to a photo contest, but I doubt that is the main reason. Please consider that aside from the unlikely chance of winning money, submitting images to legitimate nature photo contests can be advantageous to a nature photographer.

First, contest results provide a platform to reach a wider audience and improve your credibility. If respectable organizations or photographers see your image as being worthier than hundreds or thousands of others, that has to mean something, right? I realize that a nature photo contest is simply a moment in time and judges are humans that come with personal preferences and biases. A photo may get tossed aside in one contest, but win recognition in another. The reality is, being recognized by others is very legitimate and can lead to a more successful business, if photography is your primary income.

Winner of National Audubon Society's fine art category, 2015

Second, I truly believe photo contests can make you a better photographer. I know it's subjective and what appeals to one judge does not to another. But the reality is, after I submit photos to a contest and don't get any of them recognized, I begin to analyze and wonder what I could have done different and what can I do to improve. I also look at the ones that did win something and try to figure out what it was about that image that made the judges give it high marks.

Third, and this may be the one you need to be thinking hard about; recognition can ultimately translate into income. I am not talking about prize money (which is an appealing bonus), I am talking about that novice photographer that saw your photo in Outdoor Photographer magazine and contacted you about a workshop. I'm talking about all those bird and art lovers that saw your image in National Audubon Society magazine and contacted your website to purchase a print. That's money and primary income for many photographers. Winning a contest sets you apart from the rest, and it may give you that push to become a full time photographer.

Honorable Mention in Outdoor Photographer magazine's 2015 American Landscape photo contest

Let's face it, being recognized by an organization such as Outdoor Photographer magazine, National Audubon Society, NANPA or Nature's Best Photography is a very legitimate way to gain a foothold in the business of nature or fine art photography. The fee of submitting photos to a contest can ultimately bring you a return. In the meantime, you can develop a resume that will improve your reputation as a passionate and hardworking photographer.

I'd like to add one last thing. I really am not one to toot my own horn and so many of my friends feel compelled to remind me of this. As a woman, this is a particularly sensitive topic. So when some photographer makes a negative comment about my interest in a photo contest, I shrug it off. Because there is nothing wrong with wanting to see your image in print. Nothing wrong with that at all.

Finalist in NANPA 2017 showcase and Outdoor Photographer magazine's 2017 American Landscape contests

Be Obsessed

You may or may not relate to this, but I am at the stage in my photography when selling prints and exhibiting my work are attainable goals. I guess what this means is, I have a photography business. Along with the marketing and recordkeeping stuff, the amount of time I spend photographing and the type of photographs I take should be in line with my business goals. That would be considered good business sense.

So why would I spend several hours photographing something that is an unlikely subject for prints and exhibits? I recently spent several hours over a long weekend photographing dragonflies and for no tangible reason. Practically speaking, the most I might get from a dragonfly photograph is a stock image (among a zillion other dragonfly stock images), maybe one that's artsy enough to consider selling as a print (doubtful), or to submit to a photo contest (a definite possibility). From a business perspective, all those hours spent photographing dragonflies will provide little, if any, monetary return.

My obsession with the dragonfly began one evening when I noticed by chance hundreds of them hovering around some bushes. The evening light was warm and soft and the sun still high enough for good lighting. I came back with the camera and spent almost an hour with the dragonflies.

I couldn't wait to get back to them after that first session. So for the next few days, I spent most of the golden hours available with the dragonflies. I was obsessed with capturing dragonfly images of varying sorts, backlit, frontlit, solid backgrounds, dynamic backgrounds, colorful flowers, multiple subjects in one image, and so forth.

So this got me thinking, why bother? Perhaps there are intangible benefits to one's obsession. Here's where I think we, as photographers can benefit from allowing ourselves to get sidetracked into photographing an unlikely subject. 

• Practice time. Compared to not photographing, time spent shooting improves your camera skills, one way or another. If you are a bird photographer, you don't need always need birds to practice your craft and enhance your technical skills.
• Creativity unleashed. I truly believe that as you go from one shot to another of a subject, you begin to develop a sense for that subject. This frees your creativity and provides you play time for experimenting with lighting and composition.
• Learn something. I never paid much mind to dragonflies until now. As with any new subject, I want to learn about it, so I have been researching dragonflies as a result of my photo shoot with them. And there is a joy in that. When it comes to wildlife, I never get over the fascination.
• Teachable moment. Use the experience to teach others and/or add it to your workshop offerings. Photographing dragonflies may not be a priority for a new photographer, but macro photography in general may be. Your experiences simply add to your expertise and credibility.
• Reputation. Submit to a photo contest and/or upload images to a photo community website. The time you spend photographing a specific subject gets known to other photographers. At the very least, you can see their images of the same subject and learn from them. You may not want to be known as a "dragonfly photographer", but let's face it, when you photograph dragonflies, you ARE a dragonfly photographer!

The next time you see something that captures your eye, get obsessed and put that camera to good use.

Workshops available.

Fill the Frame

Horses and peacocks, can you think of two animals so different from one another? The differences are many, but from a photographer's perspective, the two can be approached very much the same way.

I recently photographed horses living on a ranch where rescued animals come to recover. They were surrounded by the messiness of a stable and a cluttered ranch environment. Case in point, I was enjoying the playful interaction of two horses displaying affection for one another and wanted to capture the moment. It proved to be difficult not only because the horses constantly moved, but because of the surroundings. Mostly, the oddly shaped heads of the horses made it difficult to compose an image. Trying to overcome these things, I zoomed in to fill as much of the frame with their heads as possible.

After spending a short time with the horses, I realized that I was most attracted to the eyes and how the mane fell on the forehead. Because of the awkward shape of the horse's head, I decided to zoom way in and fill the frame entirely with the horse's profile and focus on the eye. Sometimes, the horse moved its head a certain way that I could zoom out and include its torso, such as this one.

Recently, I visited a city garden where several peacocks live freely. Buildings and various natural objects interfered with the background when I zoomed out to capture the entire peacock displaying its feathers. As with the horse, the peacock is beautiful from a distance. But, to isolate it from its surroundings, you have to zoom in on a piece of the bird to fill the frame.

Zooming in is an intimate way to capture certain animals. It allows you to highlight specific characteristics, such as the eyes or feather details. 

When capturing a well known animal, go beyond the obvious and look more closely at the details. Fill the frame with the subject and don't be afraid to experiment with various compositions.

Observe your subject and give it your best shot.

Workflow Revisited

Recently, I read a NANPA (North American Nature Photography Association) blog by Tom Horton titled "The six myths that frustrate aspiring photographers". Myth #2 is It's all about the camera. The following is a quote from Horton in regards to myth #2: "No, it is all about the software. Or stated another way, for a given photographer of given skills, software has rescued many, many, many camera deficiencies - but it never happens the other way around. Yes, there are real differences among the digital raw material that various hardware produces, but the ability of software to affect the post-camera image is orders of magnitude greater. Photographers with good sofware skills can correct individual colors, increase apparent resolution, eliminate optical errors, cut through the haze, smooth skin, create complex effects, and a hundred other things that cameras are powerless to fix."

I am not one to promote a brand, be it camera or software; but, Tom Horton has written something that I have believed for many years. Put another way, I wouldn't be the photographer I am today if it were not for Photoshop. The reality is, hitting the shutter button marks the end of only the first part of what goes into creating an image. What follows can be a long process of enhancing the beautiful qualities and details of an image through various non-destructive adjustments.

Compare these two screen shots, the first showing the original (out of the camera) without visible adjustments, and the second being the finished product.

The finished product includes many adjustments to such things as contrast, color, shadows and brightness. And many of the adjustments were not applied to the entire image, but rather selected areas. The image was shot in February 2015. There were other images from that same day that I processed immediately, but for some reason I didn't get to this one until much later. I worked with it for awhile and not satisfied with the results, would just put it away for later. As I continued to learn new skills in Photoshop, I eventually went back to this image and made new adjustments to it, until I was finally happy with the finished product, 27 months later.

While I spend hours in the field and test many technical aspects of my camera, my learning curve for processing an image continues to rise. As I learn new Photoshop techniques and how to optimally apply them, I become a better photographer. I pay closer attention to details and my art continues to expand and deepen. So when I hear photographers proudly state "No Photoshop used on this image" as if using Photoshop is beneath them, I just cringe. Because I know that if that photographer took the time to learn and use Photoshop, he or she would expand their photographic horizons and dare I say, improve their art. And that's what it's all about.

Workshops available.

Alone in the Wilderness

Standing in my solo canoe.

I was reading an article by photographer Erin Babnick titled, "Is it better to photograph nature alone"? Erin points out the advantages of shooting with other photographers, not the least of which is safety in numbers. And for those starting out, going out with more experienced photographers can be a powerful learning experience. I know this firsthand. In addition, other photographers may give us inspiration, opportunities to learn new tricks, or guide us to unfamiliar locations or wildlife.

But with all those advantages, I prefer going it alone. Don't get me wrong, shooting with other photographers has been a positive experience and a necessary part of my growth as a photographer. But it is my alone time when there are no distractions that has greatly nurtured my growth and development, especially in the creative realm. But probably more the case is that I have been a solitary photographer out of necessity because I mostly photograph from my solo canoe.

The only way to get this shot was by paddling a mile or so and launching the canoe in the dark.

Whether or not I am in the canoe, I can focus my attention on my surroundings without the distraction of others. I can stray off the path and discover nooks and crannies, unfettered. I can spend way more time than necessary observing a tree or bird, or I can meander aimlessly. In this manner, I have created some of my best photographs and have gained inspiration for many more. Believe me, I draw inspiration from other photographer's art, but when alone in the wilderness, it is intrinsically derived and unique to the situation. The canoe has given me this luxury, but I would do it by foot just as often.

On this particular morning, I wasn't expecting to photograph spider webs. But there they were.

Because I go out alone, what holds me back is usually the weather.  If I had to go to a location with another person each time, I would miss way too many opportunities. And while I relish in discovering new places, old familiar places are my biggest draw. The familiarity offers comfort but also allows me to dig in and pull out that inspiration. I am not sure if I could find another photographer willing to go to these locations as often as I do.

There is nothing I enjoy more than being alone on Biscayne Bay. Sometimes, I find only my boat to photograph, but it is always worth it to me to go there.

I paddle 1.5 miles one way to the bird rookery, have been doing that for the past 9 years, at least 5 to 6 times per year. I am always alone with the birds.

Going it alone may not be for you, especially if it is fear for safety. I challenge you to over come some of your fears. Take it in steps, go to a location with others before you venture out alone. Do your research on areas ahead of time. Stick to areas where you know you will have a phone signal. Don't go in the dark. If you are hiking, get use to carrying extra weight like a first-aid kit, extra water. Dress appropriately and know the weather forecast. Always let someone know where you are going and how long you intend to be gone.

Bottomline, don't let fear keep you from photographing.

I love discovering mangrove tunnels, you never know what you'll find around the turn.

Occasionally, I camp alone in the Ten Thousand Islands. It took years of camping experience with others to get the nerve to do it!

As far as I know, I am the only person crazy enough to navigate the Chokoloskee Bay oyster beds in the dark to get to this location in the middle of the bay to photograph.