Me, Dad, and a Blue Sky

No one else really wanted to get up early that morning. Maybe it was the fact that it was vacation and you are supposed to sleep in, but my dad and I had other plans. Both being fans of photography, we knew the best light is in the morning and evening. But beyond that, I think we both knew it was the most dramatic part of the day as well. Like a symphony starting with a tap of the sun's wand on the pedestal. Then a slow addition of instruments as new corners of nature came to light with each wave of the conductor's arms. Why would we miss it for a few more hours of warmth and rest?

When we got on the road, we could see the sun was already on its way up, as if approaching the stage. So we took off up the mountain and when we realized we were high enough and the and sun was ready, we pulled off and gazed at the shadowed valley floor with the thin silver stream weaving like a serpeant toward the town below. The morning light peaked over the jagged horizon, catching a glimpse of who was willing to sacrifice their bed for the start of the show. And there we were, with no regrets for our beds, but enjoying a little father-son time...and the best show money can buy. I actually think I remember the rapping of the conductor's wand on the music stand.

The following picture is not the symphony, but two happy concert goers reveling in the brilliance of the show. And we weren't even thinking about our beds.

An Early Morning Symphony

Rocky Mountain National Park

The Redemptive Chipmunk

When we were kids, my family took a couple of vacations out west. But one in particular sticks out in my mind: we visited Rocky Mountain National Park. I was young and not the accomplished, world-class photographer I am now, and my dad let me try taking some photos with his camera. Now this was the fully manual kind. No auto-focus... or auto anything for that matter. And keep in mind I was young.

So as I was learning with my dad's SLR, I saw a chipmunk sitting right beneath me on a rock. I had him through the viewfinder, I set the exposure, I focused, I focused, I focused. I couldn't get what I thought was 'in focus'.
And then...he ran away.
I missed the shot.
What makes matters worse is that my sister has not let me forget about it for these almost 20 years.

But a couple years ago, I was back in Rocky Mountain National Park, with my own camera and quite a bit more experience.And what do you think happened to be sitting on the side of the trail? That's right, a chipmunk. (Probably a distant relative of the chipmunk of my childhood.) So what did I do? Did I panic and waste the shot? Did I break down and cry under the pressure? No, I snapped 20+ photos of that thing. And though my sister still likes to make fun of me every now and then...I have been redeemed!!

The Redemptive Chipmunk

Rocky Mountain National Park, CO

465 mm, 1/400 sec, f/5.6

Ignoring Us and Proud of It

I am not one for approaching wildlife or bothering them in their natural habitat. In my opinion, many injuries to animals and humans are caused each year because someone really wants a great photo or says something like, "Honey, it's alright. Move in closer. I'm sure he won't charge at you or maul your face off.". This is usually followed by screaming, running or an emergency room visit. If you care to see the idiocy in action, go to Yellowstone National Park's Wildlife Safety Video's. They remind me of the time I saw a woman walk off a trail towards a feeding bear (not good to disturb a bear while it is eating) because her camera didn't zoom in enough. It was especially intelligent since her children were with her. But I digress.

During our visit to Rocky Mountain National Park last summer, we were driving on Trail Ridge Road when we saw a congregation of onlookers taking in the majesty of a herd of elk just off the road. So what was I to do, but hop out of the car, pop on my long lense and start taking some photos. Now before I get lumped in with the people in the Yellowstone videos, I was the mandatory 25 yards away from the wildlife and also, I was definitely not the slowest person there. I am sure I could get away before the guy next to me. (Sorry buddy)

The most interesting part of the whole scene was how sublimely unaffected the elk were by our presence. I think the constant human interaction has affected different animals in different ways. The animals in the videos were frustrated by the intrusion of the human vermin on their natural habitat, but the elk I saw that day had let it all go to their heads. They knew why people were stopping. They knew they were the center of attention and, consequently, figured they had the right to give everyone the cold shoulder as they basked in the mid-morning sun. Who knew the Hollywood mentality could creep into wildlife. What happened to the good ol' days of wildlife running off at the sight of men, or at least charging them.

Trail Ridge Road, Rocky Mountain National, CO

600mm, f/5.6, 1/500 sec