Daily Jim pics 3 and 4

Grand Tetons in Wyoming seen across lake
Jim sent me several variations of these mountains, and I was having a hard time deciding which of them to feature, not really wanting to do a series of days of the same subject, but I liked the difference between these two images so I’m doing a double feature. These are the Grand Tetons in Wyoming, one of the more distinctive mountain ranges in the US. Take a moment to absorb the atmosphere here before moving on. I’ll wait.

Have you established the image in your mind? Good. Now let’s see the next one.

Grand Tetons in Wyoming in distance across prairie
So, does this seem to have an entirely different mood to it? It does to me, and even though I know they were taken on the same day less than a half-hour apart, they appear very strongly to be different seasons. Can you figure out why? Again, I’ll wait.

In the first pic (which was actually the latter one chronologically,) there’s more of a blue color cast and the contrast is lower. This is possibly due to cloud cover in the immediate vicinity, muting the colors of the foreground trees and lake, or possibly due to the Auto White Balance setting of Jim’s camera, having to adjust color palette based on what appears within the frame. Or both. The thing is, it’s the kind of conditions we expect from winter, and there being only conifers in the image doesn’t serve to counter this idea at all – the image just looks cold. It would be easy to think that the snow on the mountain contributes, and it might, but the same snow is visible in the second pic too. That one, however, has plenty of green, and higher contrast bright light, and even more blue sky. There’s even a hint of wildflowers, though they’re subtle enough to escape first impressions I believe (at least at this resolution.) But they don’t seem at all out of place, either. It illustrates what a difference some subtle factors can make.

By the way, Jim didn’t give me any extra info on these either – my knowledge of them comes from the EXIF info embedded in the files, a useful way of determining camera settings. One of the things not listed is the exact location, and I’m curious to know how far displaced these two images are, because I can see some subtle angular differences in the mountain faces and know there’s a notable separation – a few kilometers is my estimate, but these were shot at a slightly short/wide focal length and so appear further off than they actually were. If I were a serious badass with Google Maps I could probably figure it out, but we’ll see if Jim pops up to tell us.

And there will be at least one more Teton photo coming, mostly because I like it a lot, but also because I know what “Teton” means and have to giggle while I post them.

Daily Jim pic 2

Curious rock face in Wyoming, by James L. Kramer
That white line is from an ancient snow fall many centuries ago, that got trapped within sediment before it had a chance to melt, and thus fossilized. It’s pretty rare.

Okay, remember what I said before? Yeah. I have no idea what created this geology, but it could be a cool story. Not as cool as mine, though…

Sunday slide 30

unidentified blossoms over concourse in Watkins Glen, NY
While I’d visited Watkins Glen State Park in central NY while growing up there, it was always before I was active in photography, and after moving away from the state in 1990, I’d had it in the back of my head to return and do some serious photography there. The chance came during a visit in 2006, a day that turned out to be overcast and faintly drizzly. Moreover, I had flown up and was unable to take a tripod with me, so couldn’t pursue the type of fartsy blurred water shots that I wanted to. I really didn’t shoot a lot during that trip, though I made attempt to put together some decent compositions as I went – at least one other may sneak in during these Sunday posts. For this one, I framed the blossoms of an unidentified flowering tree against what little view of the river that I had.

This is one of the problems with visiting scenic areas and landmarks for the purpose of photography. Often, you have a narrow time period to work within, and may simply not get the conditions that will allow for great photos – the weather or lighting may not cooperate, or the foliage is less than optimal, or the crowds prevent decent views, and so on. Ideally, you want to time your trip for the best conditions you can achieve, and then spend several days or even a few weeks in the vicinity to be able to work with variety in weather and times of day and so on. But that’s pretty hard to arrange, and unless you can sell the resulting images for hundreds of dollars, also hard to justify. So most of us have to settle for having a fair amount of luck, and there wasn’t much with me that day. I ended up shooting a lot more when I visited the wildlife refuge on a different day during that visit.

But how? Part 24: You’re just rebelling

This is another one that I’ve broached a few times before, mostly superficially, so I figured it was time to provide the full treatment, especially since it’s one of the arguments that’s been directed at me personally. So while it does nothing to explain a world with no god, it is an argument that’s been used thousands of times to bolster belief, despite the fact that it provides nothing relevant to belief in the first place. Regardless, we’ll address, Atheists are just rebelling against god/authority. And boy, is there a lot to address!

First off, it bears recognizing that such an argument is nothing but pop psychology at best – in my experience, there rarely (if ever) appeared to be any traits presented that would support such an accusation of superficiality, and few atheists are incapable of presenting a variety of distinctive and reasoned arguments in favor of their worldview. It’s irrational to evaluate someone’s personality based on, for instance, an acrimonious forum comment, even if it’s emotional and lacking in detail, since we can’t expect all comments to provide a complete list of supporting factors. Just because someone hasn’t provided their reasoning doesn’t mean it isn’t there, and of course, judging anyone (about anything) based on minimal exposure to them is both condescending and ignorant. Take a moment, if you like, to savor the irony of calling someone petulant or shallow over such exacting criteria…

Personally, however, I’ve come close to admitting that there might be a grain of truth to the accusation, since in more than a few circumstances I do challenge authority, and am honest enough to question my own subconscious motivations as well. Yet, saying that someone questions authority is one of those tricks of horoscopes, since just about everyone does this at one point or another, especially if a politician that they don’t like makes it into office. And at the same time, you can also point out to anyone that you meet that they’re, on the whole, pretty forthright and law-abiding, and not be met with any resistance over this either. I am quite sure more than a few people that I’ve worked with would tell you that I’m too straitlaced; it all depends on perspective, and how you phrase the question.

Going a little deeper into this aspect of it though, questioning authority is not necessarily a bad thing; critical examination of how such power is used is the very thing that keeps it in check, since we’re all well aware of how commonly it’s abused; it’s not exactly hard to find plenty of advice along these lines, as well as the active contempt towards those who blindly follow some form of authority despite evidence that it’s not going to turn out well. References to “sheep” are common here (and yes, we’ll take a second to nod towards the common use of “flock” among the religious, just for giggles,) and we shouldn’t forget that a faithful adherence to authority in the face of common sense is pretty much how a cult is defined, and not just religious cults. “If all of your friends jumped off a cliff, would you do it too?” “Of course – I’m not a rebel…”

Then we come to what anyone might mean by authority in the first place, one of those terms that is used blithely without recognizing that the definition is, as often as not, personal. If any atheist doesn’t believe in a god, then it’s rather obvious that there is no authority there to recognize, any more than anyone yields to the authority of any fictional character; to call this “rebellion” is being ridiculously overdramatic, and I have little doubt that there is a certain manipulative influence in the choice of the word at least some of the times it’s used. When we hear the phrase, “rebelling against authority,” we tend to think of a kneejerk reaction to all forms, teenage frustration applied without consideration, which is of course a far cry from questioning authority, or every other manifestation outside of blind obedience or blind rejection. Assessing a situation accurately, however, isn’t nearly as self-aggrandizing…

[One must wonder if all of those, the world over, who fail to follow the accuser’s particular god are all rebels. How does this work, exactly? Do they get a free pass because, as wrong as they are, they’re still trying to follow some god? Are allowances made for culture, or majority following? What ‘authority’ is in use here?]

And so, we now get to another meaning of “authority,” one most often used in cases such as, “leading authority,” or, “an authority on cultural paleontology.” Science in and of itself is a form of authority, or to be more concise, a method that garners confidence in its findings based upon how rigorously it examines them. That’s why we bother to learn anything: to know how something works, to use accurate predictions of behavior and results to our advantage. And that is, surprise surprise, exactly what we expect from any given authority. The whole purpose is to have someone (or some abstract ‘body’) that we defer to because they know more than us. And to the great misfortune of religion, just about every one of our defined sciences demonstrate that damn near everything we consider a religion in the first place is just fucking wrong. You might think I’m being harsh, but the recognition is rampant even among the religious, from the oft-repeated mantras that ‘faith’ is important and god works in mysterious ways and so on, to the very concept of supernatural, somehow separate and unrelated to ‘natural,’ to even the efforts of moderate religious folk to distance themselves from fundamentalists, the ones who believe the Earth is 6,000 years old and fossils are satan’s sucker bait. The reason that there’s so little cohesiveness within religion (much less even one religion the world over, which we should reasonably expect,) is that everyone hits a point where they simply have to admit, “All right, that’s just batshit.” Atheists simply find that point is religion in the first place, in most cases because the authority that they follow is the tried-and-tested collection of hard evidence; it beats the hell out of believing something because everyone in the immediate vicinity does, or because it’s repeated so often. By that token, atheism is the least rebellious approach towards the strongest and most dependable body of evidence in existence. So uh, yeah, perspective…

I’m not going to neglect an aspect of the topic mentioned right at the beginning, which has a different spin: that of rebelling against a god itself. This one gets a bit weird, because it implies that the accused does believe in god, which isn’t exactly a working definition of atheism. And rebelling against an omnipotent being would probably not be the best of moves, since the ability to enforce its authority is, well, infinite. But if such a being really wanted obeisance, it could instill it right within its own creation, poof, no force or coercion or even demonstrations of evidence needed. So obviously, the option to not recognize its authority was intended, the whole free will thing, even when most religions describe dire consequences of not obeying, so the game that is being played here is yet to be defined. Now, I understand how someone could find fault with authority, and could for instance believe in a god but still think its doing some bad shit (and too many examples of scripture support this attitude remarkably well,) but outright denial of existence? That’s borderline mental illness, at least. Even the furious child who shouts, “You’re not my real parents!” isn’t in denial of said parents’ existence, just their status – obviously, or there would be no one to actually shout at, right? So, let me see if I understand this: such an accused atheist would be on board with the idea of this omnipotent being, but somehow believe that if he/she denied the existence, any potential consequences would be rendered nonexistent? Like a god needs recognition of their power for it to be effective?

Which is where this gets a little deeper, because that’s all that religious authority is, even by the tacit admission of religious folk themselves. If you fail to recognize authority, it has no actual influence on you. Granted, there can be consequences, as you’re thrown in jail for tax-evasion or lambasted for eating Cheez-Whiz with Chateau Mouton-Rothschild, but that’s merely an attempt to enforce an authority, which may or may not spur recognition of such. And when it comes to religious folk, there’s a vast majority that know such divine retribution isn’t forthcoming, which is why they have to take things into their own hands, or even decry these rebels in the first place. It’s remarkably easy to live one’s life without deference to any religion whatsoever, and nothing changes. Atheists do not suffer any more, or less, misfortune, misery, lightning strikes, plagues, animal attacks, or floods than anyone else – and neither do the followers of any religion, much to the dismay of countless religious martyrs; that word wouldn’t even exist if it were otherwise. The world goes on, almost as if simple physics is the only thing at work.

Finally, even if it could be established that atheism was completely and solely due to such a rebellious attitude, it’s still a form of unevidence; it does not strengthen any claim of a god’s existence in any way. In practice, however, it’s often much worse, when it’s used to be entirely dismissive of atheists and any argument they might present, rather than addressing the topic at hand. I’ve often said that people aren’t good or bad, just particular actions that they take, and by extension, people aren’t irrational, but arguments certainly can be. However, if someone can be labeled irrational, then any argument they put forth by extension must be too, and so there’s no need to discuss it, right? That appears to be the attitude very often, on topics much more varied than religion, but it does seem to imply a certain desperation from those presenting it, likely unwilling or unable to discuss the matter on normal terms. And even though this is borderline pop psychology in itself, how often is it used to turn the tables, to try and put an atheist on the defensive when the debate isn’t going as well as hoped? How often is it a manifestation of the second form of competition, where one doesn’t try to improve their own standpoint/value, but tears down others so their own looks better by comparison?

So while it might be nice to be dismissive of an entire worldview in the belief that it’s just due to childish petulance, it’s probably better to at least look for evidence of such, first. Or better still, to make value judgments on ideas and actions, rather than people.

Illustration and editorial

The photos in this post were all taken during a brief outing to the NC Botanical Garden back in late April – I was planning to do a detailed post, with a lot more images, and just never got on top of it. So I’m simply going to feature one aspect here. This male southeastern five-lined skink (Plestiodon inexpectatus) was aware of my presence, but I held still long enough that it determined I wasn’t enough of a threat and resumed its patrol for ants. During the pause, however, I was able to do a couple of pics with different settings.

Male southeastern five-lined skink Plestiodon inexpectatus posed on tree trunk against foliage and sky
The image above was shot with the Mamiya 80mm macro wide open at f4, so the shortest depth-of-field that the lens could provide (at that focal distance, at least – had I been closer, I could have shortened it considerably, because that’s how lenses and magnification works.) I draw your attention to the background, which you may not have consciously noted or thought about; that’s kinda the idea, because it’s defocused enough not to be distracting, even though a moment’s examination indicates that there’s a bit of complication back there. Our eyes, however, are always drawn to the sharpest part of the photo, so the fuzzy bits can pass without real notice.

It can be different though.

Male southeastern five-lined skink Plestiodon inexpectatus posed on tree trunk against foliage and sky
Only a second or so later, I shot the same framing at f11 instead, and we can easily see the difference in the background – and even the foreground trunk. Without the first image to compare it to, anyone might have found this worked just fine, but in comparison it’s obvious that the first is a whole lot better. Not only is there detail now that makes the entire image a bit ‘busier,’ the increased sharpness also increased the contrast, making the photo seem harsher. In fact, I compared these back and forth numerous times, thinking that the skink itself was higher in contrast, but it’s not really, or not by more than a tiny fraction; just being close to the more-contrasted background made me, at least, carry over that trait to the subject itself without warrant.

Now look at the back end of the skink in both photos. You can see that the first at f4 didn’t even get the entire reptile in focus, and this is part of the tradeoff, most especially in macro work but often visible in other circumstances. We’d like the background to be perfectly defocused, but the subject to be sharp throughout, and many times this just isn’t possible. Also, with a very short depth-of-field, it can sometimes take only a minor twitch in position or focus travel (for instance, the camera being uncertain which part of the subject we were really trying to focus upon) to ruin sharp focus on a key element. While I achieved what I was after with the top image, I have a couple of others (okay, had – they’re discarded now) that missed critical focus by a few millimeters, simply through my inability to hold inhumanly still during the whole short session. Which is why I often take a lot of frames of subjects like this, because it’s very easy to miss.

Male southeastern five-lined skink Plestiodon inexpectatus offering its opinion of the photographerBy the way, I’ve watched species like this countless times over some fairly long periods, hoping to capture images of them feeding – they primarily like ants, but will snag many kinds of small insects. I’ve never been truly successful, though on occasion I’ve captured the aftermath when I’ve been too slow. This one apparently knew what I was waiting for, offering its opinion of my patient efforts if you look very closely…

Daily Jim pic 1

So, Jim Kramer did a trip out west at the same time that I was gallivanting around New Jersey, and has sent me (to date) 121 photos – with virtually no text whatsoever. And I’m pretty sure he’s not going to have the time to fill me in a lot. So while I’m not going to post all of them, I’ll be featuring one a day for a while. There will be little explanation or narrative to accompany them, unless I make it up.

Here’s the first, an undisclosed location in Wyoming, with the fluffy clouds throwing shadows on the distant hills, and what appears to be an even more distant rain shower.

Prairie view in Wyoming by James L. Kramer

Sunday slide 29

ground skink egg Scincella lateralis beginning to hatch
This is just another perspective on the little story found here, since I shot the saga in both digital and film. What you’re seeing is the egg of a ground skink (Scincella lateralis,) right at the moment of hatching. Actually, it takes more than a moment, and this one in particular stayed in this position/state for quite a while, up until I left the camera for seven minutes. During that time away, naturally, the skink emerged completely from the shell. Not only does it take patience to be a nature photographer, it takes more patience than that. “Than what?” you ask. Than whatever you imagine when you think of, “patience.” Seriously.

Just because, part 23

String of white lights showing defocused circles of confusion
A quick one this morning, an experimental shot done the other night while I was alongside a railing strung with white holiday lights. The Mamiya 80mm macro lens wide open at f4 is what’s largely responsible for the effect, and basic lens traits; the balls are simply point light sources well out of focus. All out-of-focus things have the exact same effect through a lens, but most times they’re not very bright against a black background, so the effect is weak, overlapping everywhere and washing out to a blur. It can also easily be done with dust or mist in the air illuminated by a flash, and then you can say you’re photographing “ghosts” or “orbs” or some such idiocy, if you like.

The only further trick is finding the arrangement of lights that will look best in your frame. This was one of several that I took in two minutes, the one I liked the best.

Scooped again!

I have to do this just to harass the Importunate Mr Bugg, who was with me on the outing this morning and often brags that he’s going to post something first.

We (well, I) spotted a fishing spider, genus Dolomedes, on a rock and went in for the closeup, but noticed in the bright light that it had a bizarre patch of web that it sat across. Fishers don’t make webs except for their egg sac, and that may only be some species, so it seemed odd:

fishing spider Dolomedes on rock at water's edge
I could see that it had something else in there, probably prey that it was working on, so I went back to shore to affix the macro rig and do a bit more controlled lighting, rather than working with natural bright sunlight as above. And it made a distinct difference, not just in the apparent light direction, but in the details as well:

fishing spider Dolomedes with dragonfly prey
Ah, that’s it! What we took to be webbing was actually the wings of a dragonfly that was being consumed by the spider, seen at an odd angle. And since it was a big dragonfly, you get an impression of how big the spider was, too. Far from the largest I’ve seen, but not something you want to find in the bathtub, you know?

The same and different

I just received a gout of photos from the blog’s official central US non-correspondent Jim Kramer, from his trip through Wyoming, which I will be featuring here as soon as I can get to it. Unfortunately, this year seems to be trying to prove to me that I can’t set aside much time anymore, so I’m not exactly sure when this will be, but sometime before the Tricentennial, I’m confident…

For now, we’ll stick close to home, as in, home, with a few photos from the yard and over at the nearby pond. It’s not like this blog has a shortage of Chinese mantis (Tenodera sinensis) photos, but I’m following their life cycles so you can too. While they dispersed rapidly after hatching, a small handful can still be found in a couple of areas. One inhabits the Japanese maple that they all hatched underneath, but that one’s been doing quite well in being near-inaccessible to good camera angles even when it’s visible. Another has moved to the other side of the front porch and lives in the small garden there among the daylilies. Once those came in bloom, that mantis was remarkably cooperative one day in posing very nicely against the colorful petals:

Chinese mantis Tenodera sinensis posed atop day lily blossom Hemerocallis
I’m not averse to nudging or outright moving an insect to a position that works better for the photo, as you’ll see soon enough, but this one really was as found, aware of me but not fleeing as I played with angles and lighting, so thank Bob for mantis egos. And yes, the left eye is showing a little damage from an unknown cause.

One of the facets of shooting mantises is that you’re never actually sure if you’re shooting the same one on later days or not, even when it’s the same location; they will wander around, and it’s impossible to know just how many really are in a given area. So maybe this is the same one, and maybe not.

Chinese mantis Tenodera sinensis looking somewhat concerned
I like trying to capture ‘expressions’ from species that, by all rights, shouldn’t be able to display any such thing, and this is one of them, looking off as if it heard the neighbor’s annoying kid falling into the storm drain: not at all surprised, but resigned to the fact that it’s probably going to have to help get him out anyway. Maybe I’m reading too much into it…

It’s been pretty damn hot recently, even at night, and so the misting bottle serves a dual purpose, not just making for a more photogenic subject, but providing a bit of moisture for them to boot. Before this one had a chance to clear the faux dew from its eyes, I captured a moody composition almost by accident, as the light angle and strength wasn’t as originally intended. It made the tight crop pretty interesting though, or at least I think so.

Chinese mantis Tenodera sinensis with mist drops across eye facets
And this next one I was trying to set up for days. The egg sac that they had emerged from (most likely, anyway – there’s always a chance there was another that I remained unaware of,) had been sitting in the same place under the Japanese maple the entire time, but I was thinking that a comparison shot, like last year’s, might be a nice thing to feature. Except that none of the mantids seemed inclined to pose with it, or even be anywhere near it. So when I found one hanging out among the lilies, I simply uprooted the twig I’d tied the egg case to (this being one of three that I’d purchased when I could find none naturally on the property,) and replanted it near the mantis. This sent the mantis into hiding, so I let it be for a bit to calm down again, and perhaps pose helpfully alongside the case. But no, the mantis moved much further away (less than a meter, but still far enough that convincing it to get near the sac would be problematic.) I tried again a few days later when I spotted one again, with much the same results. Then I moved it to a location they seemed to like to visit, but they avoided that area thereafter. Finally, I moved the twig close to one mantis who, later on, was found right underneath the sac itself. So, you say, a simple matter of coaxing the mantis up a little and onto the egg sac, no? Ah ha ha ha ha ha, you naive fool! I say rather callously. You have not done much arthropod wrangling, have you? No, I have a fucking life, you shoot back with ruthless delight…

Getting the mantis to pose by the egg sac for a simple scale shot took several attempts, as the mantis shot past the sac and well up the twig, or jumped clear onto another plant nearby, or jumped from my hands as I transferred it back, but eventually I was successful. So now you can compare this against the pics (and exciting video!) from the hatching. Kind of, anyway – there are no images of the entire sac in there.

Chinese mantis Tenodera sinensis posed atop egg sac from which it had emerged
The mantis is 60mm long, about six times their length at hatching, and nowhere near adult size yet. By the way, I have to point out the antenna in the mouth, being cleaned (along with its feet) after its icky icky contact with humans. This is quite common in the insect world.

The next one is something I’ve never seen before, and responsible for a vocal “Holy shit!” when I first spotted it. This says a little in itself, since I’m usually making the effort to remain silent when out shooting. You know, good habits and all that.

Cecropia moth Hyalophora cecropia caterpillar profile
This is the larva (caterpillar) of a cecropia moth, Hyalophora cecropia, and while it’s colorful that’s not the reason for the cussin’ – it’s huge, the largest caterpillar I’ve ever seen, easily outweighing the hornworms I would find routinely on the tomato plants.

cecropia moth Hyalophora cecropia caterpillar with dime for scaleThis image might help more than my telling you it was larger in diameter than my thumb and in excess of 100mm long – it’s hard to get an exact measurement of something that stretches and contracts routinely, especially when it starts getting shy and withdrawing its head as much as possible. Yes, those little bedazzler knobs are spiky, but according to the immensely useful BugGuide, they’re not supposed to have any venom in there. I made it a point of not confirming this, partially because when I collected it I hadn’t yet looked it up to determine species, but also because I wasn’t exactly sure I had the right species identification, and also wouldn’t put it past those sneaky entomologists to set up nature photographers like that. There’s always been a bitter rivalry between entomologists and nature photographers*

In both of these pictures so far, the caterpillar was still reacting to my messing about, and had its head tucked down – the orange knobs are anatomically in line with the yellow ones running down the back, so they’re an indication of how curved the spine would be, if it had a spine. The head is completely hidden in both shots, but we’ll correct that very soon. Not quite yet, though.

cecropia moth Hyalophora cecropia caterpillar hiding face from danger and paparazzi
This was a typical pose when I was trying for detail shots; any disturbance of the twig caused it to withdraw its head and bring up the forelegs for protection. Or maybe it was raising its dukes for a boxing match – I’m not going to assign motivations to a caterpillar, I’ve been burned on that before.

By the way, between each of its main legs possessing dozens of tiny claws for gripping, and the obvious (if potentially false) threat of those knobs, I simply cut the small branch that it was on to bring it in for photographs. Yeah yeah, I know, don’t disturb nature and all that. The branch was in the process of being totally denuded of all leaves by the caterpillar itself, and sits on the edge of a manmade pond that routinely gets trimmed back and shaped and mowed and so on – seriously, there are bigger things to worry about. Like when the caterpillar finally gets fed up and starts to charge!

Cecropia moth Hyalophora cecropia caterpilalr with head extended
Yep, that’s me (not in the pic, of course,) holding steady to get the crucial photos until the very last minute. And did you get the joke about “fed up”? Don’t lie to me, I know you missed it.

Actually, to get this I had to transfer it to a branch out in the yard and then sit and wait for it to feel safe enough to emerge and start moving forward – and then I had to endeavor not to disturb the branch by bumping it with the flash unit, something I failed to do several times, each time sending the caterpillar back into defensive mode. It took a while, I can tell you, and it’s hot out there. You’d better appreciate this.

But my favorite is another semi-staged photo. While waiting with mixed patience for the cecropia to emerge again, I spotted another larva nearby (of the kind typically referred to as “inchworm”) and deposited it on the branch, where it ambled forward and across the feet of the cecropia then paused, perhaps aware that it wasn’t walking on bark anymore. I couldn’t resist the comparison image, but I suppose it helps to know that the giant green mass is another caterpillar and not, you know, a diseased pepper or something…

cecropia moth Hyalophora cecropia caterpillar and "inchworm" for comparison

* You should know by now that any such statement followed by an asterisk means it’s completely false. There’s no bitter rivalry between nature photographers and entomologists – we feel they’re completely beneath notice.

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