
Much earlier in the year, I was noticing (and commented on, I believe) how the weather was showing distinct variability for the same date, but now, going through the archives is only reinforcing how sweltering it is at this time of year. I mean, I wasn’t expecting snow in July or anything, but with many of them I can remember how I felt while I was out shooting, and in most cases it was, “sweating profusely,” even though it was late at night; I don’t need reminders of that.
In 2013, I happened across what I believe is a juvenile katydid molting, probably first or second instar. Instar is how entomologists refer to life stages, wherein we might use years, but most arthropods go through their entire life cycle from spring to fall; spiders and cicadas are notable exceptions. There is no fixed number of instars, since it is a period between molts, and some arthropods continue to molt as reproducing adults while others die off soon after reproducing, so their adult form is considered their final instar. And it occurs to me, as prolific as katydids are around here, that I have too few photos of them in different stages – basically this, and adult form. This is partially because they lay eggs within leaves, between the upper and lower layers of a single leaf, so spotting the eggs or the hatching takes careful examination. I believe I’ve seen the adults laying once or twice, but I’m not sure I have photos of it. If I do, and it occurred on a date that falls on a Wednesday this year, you may see them later on – katydids have a fairly broad range of dates for adult phase, and we’re already hearing them sounding off at night, even though the one pictured here is weeks from that phase.

We jump ahead (a ha ha ha ha ha! Oh, my, such sophisticated humor!) to 2016 now, alongside the backyard pond that is almost always occupied by green frogs (Lithobates clamitans.) You recall how I ragged on biologists about naming everything on this coast, “eastern?” Well, this isn’t a lot better, and shouldn’t be confused with a green treefrog, which at the very least has green as its primary color while this one does not. Granted, the name probably comes from long before the Linnaean taxonomic system and was simply adopted from the most common monikers at the time, but then again, they had no problem renaming the green anole into the Carolina anole recently, even though the Linnaean/scientific name had not changed, so…
Anyway, we’re just here for the eye detail. But notice the round catchlight, from the flash diffuser/softbox, and the single spot from the flashlight that I was using to find this guy – the only way I was only going to get this close was late at night.
Not done with the eyes yet.

In 2018, I had photographed the entire sequence of a cicada molting into final instar, but that was two years ago yesterday. Then it rained immediately afterward, and I went out once it stopped and did some detail pics of the new adult. Then after unloading the memory card and noticing how the raindrop acted on the eye facets, I went out again to do it better. By this time it had passed midnight and was now the 22nd, so it counts. I posted this then, a few days later (because editing those photos and then writing it all up took some time,) but I like this particular crop a little better. And to close, another from that same session, also posted then.

I mentioned then that I would make a big print out of this, and I did; it was even showcased in the public show that I had late that year, now resides on the staircase gallery here at Walkabout Studios, and serves as my phone background. And it’s a composite, or if you prefer, a stacked photo: the depth-of-field at this magnification (the entire juvenile frog is the size of your fingernail) is so short that focus is sharp on very specific areas, so I joined two frames to broaden the focus range. Physically, it wasn’t possible to do this in-camera; any lens can only stop down so far, and even before reaching the minimum f-stop, diffraction starts to affect the image. But in this case, it was with the reversed 28-105 which has a fixed f16 anyway.
I know what you’re saying: you’re saying the focus range isn’t that great even with the stacking. [No, you’ve probably given up already and are texting your friends.] But yes, it was even shorter than this before, and while this is abject cheating, something a real photographer would never resort to, I’m not getting paid for this anyway, so I’m pleasing myself. Go get your own photos.




















































Our first comes from ’97, I think, when I was still shooting negative film, a black rat snake that I found sunning itself on a quiet country road. My guess would make this morning in the spring, when the nights were still cool and the snakes needed the warmth from the road for the energy to digest the night’s meal, and this seems to be born out by the presence of flowering trees in the distance. Asphalt is a great heat collector, as barefoot people in the summer know, but countless snakes get run over because of this, so in honor of the holiday, I remind everyone that, if they see something suspicious-looking in the road ahead, swerve around it. Or, as I did, get out, get your pics, then nudge it from the hazard zone.
While visiting New York many years ago – fourteen, to be precise – my brother and I happened across this charming little ring-necked snake (Diadophis punctatus,) so of course I had to do a scale photo in my brother’s palm. This is not a baby or juvenile, but their average size, small enough that The Girlfriend finds them cute (not so much with the larger species, let me assure you.) They are, of course, wickedly venomous, but their teeth are so small they are only a hazard to thin-skinned species like caterpillars and Republicans.
Long, long ago, when mankind still had jutting brows and hairy palms (I mean, all of us, not just some,) there were going to be a few guest posts herein, and one contributor was 













But what’s this? Unseen at the time, some tiny insect is lurking underneath the same blossom, conveniently highlighted by a spot of bright background that gives it a small halo – either that or it’s divine in some way. Ya never know. Shown at right at full resolution, it’s obviously tiny when scaled against the swallowtail, and since I never spotted it at the time, I never tried to go in closer to get better detail shots. It looks supremely funky, but I’m betting it was simply cleaning its wings in that moment and so they were pitched out at odd angles, and it’s only a variety of fruit fly that uses patterns on its wings to camouflage itself against predators. There remains the possibility that it was having body work done and it’s spotted with primer before the finish coat is applied – it may be embarrassing and unsightly, but fruit flies gotta make a living too.




For those of you following at home, I am still working on the site migration, mostly because of WordPress, and PHP 7.2.29. PHP is a programming language, which WordPress runs on, and when it upgraded into version 7, it changed an awful lot of commands, which kicked out numerous scripts and options that were written before that time; this has been a source of much work and frustration on my part for the past several days. I’m still trying to get the blog looking the way I like, but some changes are inevitable – and as far as I’m concerned, not changes for the better, though I’m going to try and make it look that way. There will be a post that announces the changeover, that will only be posted within the new host, so when you see it, you’ll know you’re on the new site. Though I imagine it’ll be obvious anyway…
Two years later in 2009, I was doing some detail shots of a bit of fossil coral that I’d found in a tailings pit, which makes it, um, old. It’s actually hard to pin down, because it was found in sedimentary limestone, meaning former ocean bottom, that underlies the ‘topsoil’ of eastern North Carolina – that all eroded off of the Blue Ridge Mountains, themselves formed when North America was grinding against Africa, pre-dinosaurs. So how old the sea bottom underneath is, no one can say easily, and silly me, I never had this decay-dated (and not Carbon13, because it’s way too old for that to work.) Anyway, I show it here because I find it absolutely fascinating that I was doing detailed photos of old sea-stuff on the same date two years apart. I know, right?

In the interim, I have to post a meme found online, which exemplifies my thoughts about blogging better than I could ever express in writing. Much as I hate using sports references, this one works well.


