Still more Monday monochrome

tiger swallowtail on flowers, monochrome green channel
I’ve been playing around with photo editing, and decided to toss up a few more monochrome images because, you know, the weather’s turning grey and so you’ll want to see… even more… grey… that’s not really making sense, is it?

Too bad, I’m plowing ahead anyway!

Canada geese Branta canadensis stading on iced pondSome of these are relatively recent, some of them are much older, but all of them are fantastic! No need to exercise your own judgment – I’ll just go ahead and provide your own opinion to you, because you obviously need it.

Sorry, the last election got to me a bit.

If you’ve looked at previous posts regarding monochrome, you know what channel clipping is, so it makes sense when I say this is a blue-channel version, which brought out the best contrast. By the way, I’m really sorry that I didn’t have the audio recorder with me during this session, because the weight of the geese on the ice was producing the most wonderfully weird sounds – my best guess is from distant cracks shifting and chirping against one another. There’s no way I could describe it or compare it to anything, so my goal is to capture it again one day, but I realize this is pretty unlikely.

unidentified snail, blue channel monochrome

amaryliis blossom green channel monochromeThe image above is once again solely the blue channel, and this is somewhat typical of the results when using just blue – it tends to be the darkest, or at least it does for most of the images I shoot, anyway. It can also go pretty muddy at times, producing blotches in gradient areas, but this time around it came up sharp – this just might be a trait of the lenses I’ve used (all lenses bend different wavelengths of light by different amounts, and while some of them are good at correcting this within the lens array, not all of them are.) Regardless, the snail shell attracts attention while the head of the snail becomes much more subtle, and the whole thing gets moody. When Hollywood finally gets around to doing a film about a pathologically murderous snail, this image is here to guide them in producing the necessary ominous effect.

Meanwhile, you’ve seen a variation of the image at right before, but this time I went with just the green channel – it produced the right level of contrast from the pollen and the petals. Just converting to greyscale really wouldn’t cut it, because the red of the petals was almost as bright as the pollen itself, but since it was a nearly pure red, using the green channel eliminated almost all of the brightness from them.

A quick note here on framing and cropping, while we are still waiting patiently for me to finish the podcast on composition. It helped a lot to keep the pollen heads within the lines of the petals, letting their edges frame the focal point of the image, and the preventing the edges of the petals from being cut off by the left side of the frame helped convey a more ‘complete’ idea. And in this crop, there’s a subtle emphasis diagonally across the image, the lines of the petals emanating from top right while the pistil points towards lower left – this was completely intentional; I tend to ‘work the corners’ when I can.

juvenile Chinese mantis Tenodera sinensis peeking from azalea blossoms, green channel monochrome
This one is subtle but I suppose not overtly so (“overtly subtle” – yeah, I need to work on my writing skills, thanks for pointing that out, now I feel worthless.) Using the green channel darkened the bright pink, or mauve or taupe or puce or whatever, of the azalea blossoms while brightening the main subject, reducing the contrast and so increasing the subtlety. I could have sworn I had posted color examples of these flowers the same year I took this, but cannot find any, so use the first image here to get an idea – it’s the closest I can get.

But now, let’s take a look at where the color channel thing produced a significant difference.

four o'clock flower Mirabilis jalapa pollen in green and blue channel monochrome
Same image, hard as it may be to believe; on the left is the green channel, and on the right is the blue channel, while the original colors of the flower can be seen here (and in the rotating header images if you’re patient enough.) Though remarkably different, I haven’t decided which one I like the best, so feel free to cast your vote. What with districting and the electoral college and all that, it will do you no good at all, but at least you’ll feel that you’re part of the process.

scattered fall leaves in monochromeYou can see a color version of this pic here, or at least one that was taken in the same spot, just framed a bit differently – that one has more color than this one did. But the stark lines of the grey leaves were interesting, so I converted it to see how it fared.

Finally at bottom, one from many days back, actually taken the same morning as this one. It’s green channel again, and was definitely in the running for the month-end abstract, but I have some others I could use and it dramatically closes out this greyscale post. Handheld in early morning natural light, the aperture was wide open at f4, so I had to pick the particular drops that I wanted in focus. I think it worked out well, myself.

morning dew on rose leaf in monochrome

An autumn grab bag

fall colors over a bend in Morgan Creek
So, a few days back we finally got out and found some decent fall colors, emphasizing just how widely variable the area is. A week earlier, the ineluctable Al Bugg and I had visited a spot on a river just a handful of kilometers north, and found most of the trees by the water well past peak and, in fact, bare. Then the first part of our outing this past Friday, in Mason Farm Biological Reserve, provided only patches of color here and there, but nothing significant. Shifting to the trails behind the NC Botanical Garden, climbing a small hill less than two kilometers away, we found the colors at peak and plenty of opportunities to do some nice autumn shots. So, yeah.

Hillside colors on nature trails of NC Botanical Garden
The biggest challenge is, as seen here, the thickness of the foliage. What people like to see for fall shots are a broad hillside of varied colors, or trees overhanging a woodland path, but we were unable to locate good examples of these conditions, and often when the colors could be seen, there were a lot of foreground trees complicating the compositions. There are still some key elements that I am in search of locally: a nice spot for fall colors, an old barn, house, or cemetery for really foggy mornings, and a stark tree or old barn in the middle of an open field for thunderstorm shots. It’s important that they not be too far away, to be reachable when the conditions are optimum. This is the kind of thing that photographers mentally catalog when they’re out and about.

sycamore leaf backlit with low light angleOf course, I couldn’t pass up my typical (actually, pretty trite by now) approach to colors when they’re scarce, this time in Mason Farm – I just liked the way the light angle was shadowing the leaf while still providing some backlight glow. Since this was before we had headed out to the colorful nature trails, I was working hard to produce something of interest for the outing – even though I already had a few images that will be highlighted towards the end of the post. You know how drama goes.

By the way, this one is a good candidate for converting to monochrome, by eliminating the green and blue channels and adding a selective boost in contrast. I haven’t added anything to the recent images page in far too long, and I’ll probably dump the converted version in there shortly, along with a bunch of others. There, now that I said it I’ll be motivated to get right on it, and they’ll be up within a day or two. Right?

It gets pretty cool at night now, occasionally frosting over, which means that wildlife activity, especially arthropods, is greatly reduced. We’re entering the winter slump when the posts are liable to get a lot more philosophical and the images a bit thinner, at least until I’m making enough to head much further south and shoot in Costa Rica or something. Yet we’re still not quite into the ‘winter’ conditions, or wildlife behavior, meaning that warm days can still bring out little scenes, like a quartet of painted turtles (Chrysemys picta) basking on the protruding branches of a sunken tree in a small channel at Mason Farm:

four painted turtles Chrysemys picta basking on two branches
The turtles in the channels of Mason Farm were quite spooky, so getting close enough to frame this shot took a careful approach; I really wanted to be able to frame the reflection of a colorful tree in the water beneath them, but it was not to be. At least the sun angle was in our favor.

There was one more interesting find along the channel, immediately after seeing these turtles, but that’ll come later.

The insects are few and far between right now, to no one’s surprise. Initially, it took a sharp eye to spot the first few, but that’s what I do and I know what to look for. So after I’d laid back on the ground under a low-hanging oak sapling to do photos of the leaves against the sky, spotting the pale green assassin bug (Zelus luridus) lurking under a leaf wasn’t too difficult.

pale green assassin bug Zelus luridus skulking under oak leaf
After sighting the first, it became clear that the oak was being favored by the species, since we found several more, most of them on the undersides of the leaves like this one, but a few actually out in the sunlight. This is where I thought they’d be most likely to be found, gathering up the solar energy in the short time that it was available rather than trying to avoid it, but what do I know?

A short while later, a lone bug was partaking of almost the only flowers to be seen, small and brilliant yellow, proving that even in the off season, something is around to take advantage of the flowers that might appear.

broken-backed bug Taylorilygus apicalis on small yellow wildflower
This is, I’m almost certain, a broken-backed bug (Taylorilygus apicalis,) and I can say that because I’ve photographed them before and did all the legwork then. No real skill in finding this one, tiny as it is, because a cardinal rule of insect photography is to pay close attention to clusters of flowers – they evolved to attract such attention (I mean from the bugs, not the nature photographers.)

(I think.)

Moving on from both the Reserve and the nature trails, we did a quick pass through the gardens proper, curious to see what might be found. As I quizzed Mr Bugg on where we had photographed various species on previous visits, we examined the area where we’d spotted the small Carolina mantis, not really expecting to find it again but not completely ruling it out either. The joke was on us, however: there was no mantis to be seen on or near those plants. It had moved across the raised boardwalk to a stand of weeds on the other side, at least three meters distant.

Carolina mantis Stagmomantis carolina peeking among dried flowers
As you can tell from the linked images taken three weeks earlier, this is quite a small specimen, and I consider it likely to be the same one. This time around it was on a plant well off the boardwalk where we weren’t permitted to walk, so it had to be shot from a short distance; this is a tighter crop from the original frame. Carolina mantises (Stagmomantis carolina) are smaller than Chinese mantises, but this one was less than half adult size, curiously still a juvenile this late in the year. It’s possible the weather was responsible for this, since the other mantids that I’d photographed hatching in the spring were late too, but it’s safe to say that this one doesn’t stand a chance of mating.

More surprising was another find, this one on a stand of pitcher plants in a cultivated planter. I’d spotted the thin legs sticking out, not at all like the plants in the vicinity, and this anachronism caused me to look closer and move around to a better angle. Remember what I said about patterns?

pregnant Chinese mantis Tenodera sinensis on pitcher plant
The surprise wasn’t so much finding another mantis, but finding one so obviously pregnant; I would have thought they’d all have created their egg sacs by now. The last one I’d seen, in fact, had been quite close to this location, and also pregnant, but that was six weeks earlier. This Chinese mantis (Tenodera sinensis) was many times the length and mass of the Carolina mantis, probably measuring only slightly shorter than my hand, and was well aware of my presence as I leaned in at the edge of the planter to do my portrait shot.

portrait of Chinese mantis Tenodera sinensis on pitcher plant, showing damaged eye
As you might have noticed, both mantids were sporting truncated antennae, likely evidence of close encounters with either predators or feisty prey, and this one also shows damage to the compound eye. What’s subtler, but quite important, is that I framed the head against the bright plant behind it to make it stand out better, and I’ll be talking about this in an upcoming podcast. Little tricks, little tricks…

I have to speculate on the position of the mantis here, since such plants are not good choices to attach an egg case to, seeming to indicate that the event wasn’t imminent. But it was – at least a little earlier in the season – a good place to find prey, leading me to believe that the mantis was more in feeding mode. They don’t last long after laying their eggs, but she really didn’t have a lot of time to get to this before the colder weather would do her in, so the timing was getting crucial.

Had she moved less than a meter away, though, she might have found an easy meal, since the pitcher plants also sported another occupant.

eastern carpenter bee Xylocopa virginica under overhang of pitcher plant
I’m going to go ahead and call this an eastern carpenter bee (Xylocopa virginica,) since the eye color is right and I think I see a hint of that telltale white facial spot. This one was just perched there as if still struggling with low temperature torpor despite this being late afternoon. You likely know that pitcher plants trap small insects by attracting them into the slippery tube with enticing aroma, but the chances are the carpenter bee wasn’t in any danger, since the prey species are usually much smaller. At least one species of wasp even seems to place its larvae within the pitchers which are then plugged with leaves, and the emerging adults make their escape by chewing a hole in the side; I’ve seen these holes and the plugging behavior, so I think this is what’s happening, anyway.

And finally, the image I hinted at earlier, actually the first decent capture from the day. As we were following the path alongside the channel in Mason Farm, I spotted a small heron staring intently into the water. Keep in mind the distance was six meters at the most when we came into view, almost head-on with the heron, and we stopped dead and shot a few frames each as we watched for any movement. Eventually, we started moving forward a bit and could get a side view, narrowing the distance down to three meters, while the heron didn’t move a muscle, not a twitch. It was almost disturbing, and I vaguely suspected someone had placed a decoy, but it would have been the most intricately and accurately detailed decoy I’d ever seen in my life.

juvenile great blue heron Ardea herodias hunting in channel with attendant reflection
I also, for more than a few moments, thought it might have been a tricolor heron, which just aren’t found in this area; it was the right size and the coloration seemed more like that than anything else. Eventually, it struck at its prey and missed, whereupon it demonstrated that it was quite cognizant of our presence (we were impossible to miss, really, being in plain sight and still conversing in whispers three meters away,) by stalking off away from the channel. As it stood up and displayed it plumage in more natural position, it became clear it was a juvenile great blue heron (Ardea herodias,) but half the size of an adult and lacking some of the classic coloration. I decided on this particular frame, however, because I’d shifted position enough to capture the reflection of the face and eye in the water; had you caught that before I mentioned it? That was the best I could do in the circumstances, and not half as distinctive as the shot of the real tricolor heron in the masthead image, but hey, still better than nothing. And a pretty good day overall, I’d say.

Just because, part 21

I’ve got several things in the works right now, but I’m not sure when I’ll finish any of them, so for now, a grab shot from just over a month ago, when the nights had turned dewy.

dew-covered spiderweb resembling sailing ship
I have no idea what kind of spider spins this web, but I’ve seen this many times before, often of varying sizes. I’m always taken by the impression of a sailing ship, or schooner or something – boats are not my forté. There are always two distinct ‘structures’ to the webs, with a tighter and denser ‘hull’ below, often favoring one side with a prow-like protrusion instead of being symmetrical or random, and the upper ‘rigging’ section without masts or sails but still conveying that idea. Maybe it’s just me…

Someday, I’ll have to sit down and examine one closely, first to try and photograph the builder, but then to puzzle out the function of the entire structure – there must be purposes to the two different sections (and possibly more sections that I’ve never discerned.) While I am just fine with the aesthetics of such things, I’ll often find myself pondering the deeper questions after only a few moments of drinking in the visual aspects, noticing how the initial support threads dictate the shapes and recognizing that, despite the haphazard nature of most strands, this isn’t random, but an edifice with specific functions. Does it target certain insects? Does it protect against rain or predators better? Is this, like many other webs among arachnids, a breeding nest instead?

I realize that most of the questions are probably already answered, if I knew where to look – that’s where identifying the occupant(s) would help a lot. But for now, I present only the visual, and my curiosity.

Podcast: Curséd podcast

That’d be a pretty good idea for a U2 song, wouldn’t it? They need to lighten up a bit and deal with more mundane subjects.

Anyway, nothing at all deep with this one, just the trials of doing something that should be relatively simple.

Walkabout podcast – Curséd podcast

Cold weather tips, as mentioned.

Since, as indicated orally, I am getting this recording system refined a little, there should be another podcast along ‘soon’ – the definition of that is up for grabs though, and still depends on me getting the time and conditions right, but at least I know what the topic will be.

The USB mic that I recently purchased and used for this episode, by the way, is the CAD U1 cardioid dynamic microphone – I’d provide a review but I really don’t know what I’m doing and have few other options to compare it to. For my uses, and so far, it seems to be working well. The software is Audacity, an excellent (and almost universally recommended) bit of freeware that makes quality recording and editing pretty damn simple.

No image to go along with this one, sorry – the ones I talked about trying to get really didn’t turn out worth anything at all. Happens to the best of us… on very rare occasions. My best moon shot can be found here, while one of the coolest that I’ve seen is to be found here, and click on it for the larger version – neither is a supermoon, but you couldn’t tell that from the images. Well, okay, you certainly could for mine because it’s not full, but anyway…

Sunday color, revisited

Since I have no idea what I’m doing up this early, I’ll just throw up some colors. I should probably rephrase that…

late autumn leaves against red leaves and sky
On a recent outing, we attempted to find some prime autumn colors in a new location, but discovered that there, at least, they’d changed much earlier, and down along the river’s edge the trees were pretty much bare. So during a quick check in another locale, we could at least create some colorful compositions by being selective again, in this case finding two trees with contrasting colors and layering them against the clear sky. The foreground tree was still in the process of changing (which is what makes the concept of “peak colors” so misleading,) but because of this it was producing a nice variety of hues within a meter, all from the same tree and indeed, the same small branch.

In fact, one could even see a variety of color within just a single leaf. The backlighting helped a bit, of course.

single leaf in transition
Now, I would have liked to have gotten an image without the shadow on the right side, and tried. But in order to get it, I had to wait for the breeze to shift the surrounding branches in an appropriate way, and when they did, they also shifted the target leaf out of focus. Obviously, focus was a critical aspect of this particular shot.

It was also critical to the next one, though the effect didn’t quite meet my expectations.

green leaves against other colors
The idea was to have the green foreground leaves in sharp focus with all of the background leaves soft, but the situation wasn’t quite right for it. Here’s a little trick to achieving that. If your foreground subject is well inside the halfway point between your camera and the background (in other words, closer to you than it is to the background,) then you have a much better chance of getting good ‘focus isolation’ with a large aperture. In this case, cropped a little from the original, the green subject leaves were just a little too distant, and even f4 couldn’t blur out the background leaves enough. Ah, well, maybe later.

As I type this, we have frost conditions outside but it’s still quite dark, and about the time the light should be getting ideal, I have to be someplace. I might have a small window to work with, so maybe something will appear later, but there will still be plenty of opportunities to chase compositions of that nature later on. We’ll just see what happens.

Spot the frog, again

green treefrog Hyla cinerea not hiding very well in Japanese maple tree
Okay, I don’t suppose that one was very difficult at all. Camouflage works a lot better if it’s the same hue as the background…

So let me fill you in on what’s been going on. Aside from being busy with other projects, largely car repairs, I’ve been trying to get to another podcast. But I haven’t been very happy with my audio quality, which adds a bit of time with post-processing, and have been considering other options. One that I stumbled upon was rather intriguing: I had this cheap little audio recorder that I got mostly for notes and sound bites while out in the field, but I didn’t really consider it podcast quality. I had forgotten that I had a little lapel mic for it, and tried it out the other day. To my surprise, the resulting combination produced much better audio that the rig I’d been using, so I figured, Why not? And went ahead and recorded the next episode.

green treefrog Hyla cinerea hiding in downspoutWhat I had also forgotten was that the recorder has a tendency to simply drop out at times, not even producing a gap or silence but just deleting a section of audio (more than a few seconds at a time) without even a telltale click – just this abrupt jump in the sentence to something later on. That’s kind of hard to deal with, requiring re-recording of at least some sections, and if you’ve never attempted this, matching voice quality and intonations can be pretty hard, especially if you suffer from winter sinus issues. Not really an ideal situation. I am still playing with options, so we’ll see where this leads.

It is also getting to the end of the season for much of anything around here, though I may still snag some fall color images within the next few days. Curiously, a selection of green treefrogs (Hyla cinerea) have been hanging around in various locations within the yard, so I do some portraits from time to time just for the sake of it. The one seen here would spend daylight hours in the truncated downspout, the bottom stub that remained after I rerouted the top part into a rainbarrel, while the one at top would switch perches every couple of days. With the temperatures dropping, I expect them to seek their winter hidey-holes soon, but so far it hasn’t happened.

green treefrog Hyla cinerea in Japanese maple
This is the same frog, same location, and same time as the one that opened the post, so if you compare the two images, you might be able to imagine the challenge in positioning that was required for this face-to-face shot – thankfully the Japanese maple isn’t that tall, but it was still a bit awkward. I’d like to think it was worth the effort, though. It’s actually a stack of two separate frames; in one, the eyes were in sharp focus, and in the other, the eyes slightly out but the nostrils in focus, so I just combined the two. This is what can happen shooting at f4 while on tiptoe, holding leaves out of the way of the camera.

green treefrog Hyla cinerea on potted dracaena grass
Close inspection of the coloration pattern has convinced me that this is the same one, even though two had been seen simultaneously in that maple. This time, it’s on a potted dracaena grass that sat on the front steps, the same plant that sported a tiny wet mantis in this post (it shares the pot with a geranium.) The debris it is coated with came from traipsing through the potting soil with perpetually-damp skin to get to this perch. Since this is a night shot, I used the flash rig at f16, providing a slightly different color rendition than the previous shot (under overcast skies) and a better depth of field. Meanwhile, a pair (at least) of darker-colored specimens, such as the last one from this post, has been seen at varying times around the back of the house, where the one in the downspout resides. To say nothing of the five or so green frogs (not treefrogs) that still reside in the backyard pond. If they’re happy, I’m happy.

Anyway, I’ll get the podcast finished eventually, through one method or another. Keep watching this space.

You see what I want you to see

Granted, that’s true of any photograph, and indeed any blog, but it’s just more fun to sound arrogant sometimes.

A hint of fall colors on University Lake
But what is being demonstrated here is a common trait of autumn colors, and something that can be applied to all photography. This area is unfortunately dominated by longneedle pine trees, which don’t change color and tend to be pretty ugly as trees go – and also tall. So there’s little opportunity for sweeping vistas of fall color, even if the deciduous trees were cooperative enough to all reach peak coloration at the same time, which they are not. What we get are splashes of color here and there, usually set against and among the pines. So to have images that express “autumn” to viewers, around here at least, one has to be selective in their approach. This photo kind of splits the difference: on initial glance it seems to show colors halfway decently, but after a moment it becomes clear that the colorful trees are few, set against the boring ones. Had I framed wider either horizontally or vertically, the few bright trees would have appeared even less imposing.

American sweetgum Liquidambar styraciflua in autumn colorsAnother example is this American sweetgum (Liquidambar styraciflua) at the same location, a lone tree among a lot of greenery that showed off a patchwork quilt of colors all by itself. A broader landscape shot would only have diminished the impact of the colors and would hardly have expressed “fall” in any significant way, so going in close was necessary to bring the impact of the contrasting colors. The sweetgum, and a couple varieties of maple, seem to be the only species in the area that develop vivid reds before shedding the leaves, but I could be wrong about that – identifying trees has never been my strong point. Mostly, what we see are yellows and browns, so fall colors tend to still be almost monochromatic until we stumble upon one of the more colorful trees.

It’s this kind of thing that almost forces me to select the autumn compositions that I do, but also that it’s a little trite to shoot nothing but landscapes of multi-colored trees; that’s what people expect, and what the vast majority of images from this time of year show. Areas with maples and aspens will always be more dramatic than what is available locally, but there are other ways of expressing the season and providing visual impact than broad landscape shots, and below sits another example. Though this style is enough of a favorite of mine that it is becoming ‘trite’ for me, I’m still please with how the green shoots framed the flame-colored leaf, and how the grey undersides provided a different color element not often seen. This was just a tiny patch of leaves on the surface of a creek, in a quiet area where the water grew still, and I could decide which leaves and how many appeared in the frame.

autumn leaves on water surface
Note, too, that the light conditions helped a bit, being under enough of a forest canopy to be ‘overcast.’ Brighter light would have increased the contrast and might even have bleached out some of the colors in places, but capturing a bit of clear blue sky in the water’s reflection might have made an entirely different composition. Different elements and conditions provide for different styles and effects.

Now we get to some of the critters. Almost all of the images in this post came from two visits to the same area, the one mentioned in the previous post, an old stomping ground of mine (actually, Florida should most be considered my stomping ground, since that’s where I usually encountered fire ants and had to dislodge them from my sandals and feet – maybe I should call Florida my stomping, slapping, and cursing ground.) And there are two traits of wooded trails at this time of year. The first is, the falling leaves are quite capable of obscuring any subtle trail, to the point where finding the path can be difficult and might require some esoteric trail-spotting tricks (such as the slight swales or hollows that come from foot traffic, or the easiest openings through the underbrush that people gravitate towards.)

black rat snake Pantherophis obsoletus in middle of walking trailThe other trait is, such ground cover can make it really hard to spot venomous snakes that have chosen to sprawl where one is walking. This image doesn’t exactly illustrate this, because this one is not at all hard to spot and also isn’t venomous: this is a black rat snake (presently Pantherophis obsoletus) that’s just shy of a meter in length. Paths are slightly more attractive to snakes at this time of year because they often present regions of low grasses or undergrowth and thus more exposed to the sun, which is important to ectothermic species when the nights gets much cooler; sidewalks and asphalt roads are more attractive still. So when it comes to species like copperheads with camouflage coloration, the risk of encountering one rises significantly, which meant I was watching my path very critically, and even more so after this one demonstrated that yes, the potential wasn’t just imaginary.

My subject here was much more cooperative than I imagined it would be. It was mid-afternoon, more than warm enough by this time, and I expected snakes to have all the energy they needed, but this one stayed put as I got the initial picture at right, then slipped slowly around it off the path and came in from the front, trying (as always) for my portrait angle. Very often, this takes some low and awkward positions, and it’s next to impossible to stay ‘clean’ when doing so, but I find the effort to be well worth it. I managed to get quite close to this one before it finally decided I was too threatening and bolted for cover. I’ve seen this kind of behavior when species are surrounded by a lot of open space, where getting into obscuring grasses takes longer and the unconcealed movement might attract predators, but this one could disappear within its own body length, so it was a little surprising. I appreciated the cooperation.

black rat snake Pantherophis obsoletus portrait
That sharp kink in the neck, drawing the head back, is a warning sign, and generally means you should keep clear, but I’ve been bitten by black rat snakes more times than I can count, despite the fact that they’re far from being a species that bites quickly (they’re much more likely to poop on you,) and the bites really are trivial. This one never attempted to strike, it was just suspicious of my slow approach from the front, which often fails to trigger the ‘danger’ signals within their brains. Had I moved faster I likely would have provoked a strike at least, even if just a half-hearted warning jab.

eastern box turtle Terrapene carolina carolina in patch of sunlightThe patch of sunlight certainly helped me spot this next one, which was holding perfectly still well off the trail. It can be easy to find eastern box turtles (Terrapene carolina carolina) at this time of year because they can make a racket, relatively speaking at least, plowing through the dry leaves, but when holding still they’re better camouflaged by those same leaves. The ‘bump on a log’ with its distinctive shadow was enough to gain my attention, and I once again maneuvered around to go in for the portrait shot; the only indication from this one that it even realized I was there was to draw its head back a little when I got very close. Turtles can bite of course, and tend to have much stronger jaws than snakes, but it’s not among their first choices of defense so the risk was nonexistent, especially since I remained out of range.

Before we get to the portrait, I’ll point out a couple of details that are subtly visible here. The repeating pattern on the carapace (back shell) of turtles are evidence of the scutes, essentially something like scales or plates. While interlocked, they grow individually, so each one forms a record of the turtle’s growth very much like tree rings. They’re born with the central portion, in this case marked with a backwards ‘E,’ but each year they add a ring around the outer edge that’s faintly ridged; bigger rings indicate more growth and thus a better year nutrition-wise. Some of those ridges are easily visible with the light angle, close to the turtle’s ‘shoulder,’ but they can also be seen immediately below that in the ‘sunray’ pattern – I can make out at least nine ridges, which means this one was a minimum of nine years old, probably more. One of these days I’ll provide better illustrations of this, but it’s more visible in the photos here.

eastern box turtle Terrapene carolina carolina portrait, with mosquito
Since this one was cooperative too, I was able to go around to the side with better light for the portrait, capturing a mosquito as I did so (just above the dark patch on the face.) The red eyes indicate that this was likely a male, since the females usually have brown eyes; another indication of the gender is the plastron (belly shell) which has a distinctive indent for the males, but I didn’t pick this one up to check. You can see faint evidence of a previous meal though I couldn’t say for sure what; probably mushrooms, given the conditions.

And one last shot, from a slightly different location. While out with the impeccable Mr Bugg, we approached a pond edge slowly because we knew the conditions were right for the little frogs in the area, ones so tiny and well-camouflaged that they’re next to impossible to spot until they’re spooked and jump away. Then, of course, they’ve already been alerted to one’s presence and getting in close for the shot requires a very slow approach. I got lucky with this one, which landed in the top of a small weed and perched there; they’re usually ground-dwellers right at the edge of water, to which they can escape in a bound or two when danger threatens.

cricket frog genus Acris perched in weed stems
This is a cricket frog, genus Acris, but whether a southern or northern variant is hard to say because they can only be distinguished by a stripe on their inner thigh, which we did not see, or their call, which we did not hear. Given the locale, the probability leans towards the northern (Acris crepitans) rather than the southern (A. gryllus.) Some idea of the scale can be gathered from this image, but I can tell you this one was typical in size, about 15mm in body length so, you know, able to perch on your thumb. They blend in so well that, even when you might have seen them jump, it’s easy to miss them once they hold still again, so being sharp-eyed is important.

We’ll have to see how the fall colors develop, and whether I’ll be back with something more dramatic within a few days. You know where to find me.

Ah, yes! But then again, no

moody Morgan Creek cove
So, many years ago when I first moved to central NC, I quickly discovered various hiking trails behind the apartment complex, mostly skirting a local creek (you know, as opposed to an international creek – I suppose the adjective is unnecessary there.) This was before I was serious about photography – no, let me rephrase that: I’d been serious about photography for at least fifteen years before that, but never able to buy any kind of decent equipment so, depending on the year, what I had was either a basic Olympus or Pentax SLR, or most likely my trusty Wittnauer Challenger, an old meterless rangefinder that I no longer have and is next to impossible to find anymore. Despite the limited options provided by this camera, I still managed to take a few images that I liked a lot and hung prints of on my wall, and one of them is the image above – not especially artistic or fascinating, but a nice mood piece, giving the impression of a deep forest glade. Most people would define “deep forest” as being away from traffic noise and Cheeto wrappers, which was hardly the case here, but that’s part of the fun of photography – you can provide impressions wholly different from reality.

Now, in twenty-some years since, I’d moved out of the area, then out of the state, and eventually back in. Coming across the shot again in my negatives folder some time back, I realized that the spot where I took this has likely changed little and is really only a handful of kilometers away. I had it in the blog folder to feature at some point, but thought that it might be better to do a “then and now” thing with it, given that I could visit it again without much difficulty. But I just never got around to it. The general area has changed a bit of course, with new construction and all that, and I tried once to find an access to those trails with no luck, mostly because I’d have to park a car someplace now. Yesterday, however, I set out specifically to do this, and found myself (that’s where I’d been!) back on those trails after something like 23 to 25 years.

More importantly, I was sure I’d found the place where I took the shot; it looked right, and seemed to have details that I remembered from the original. It’s a totally different time of year right now, and it was likely even a different time of day, so I wasn’t expecting a perfect match even allowing for more stream erosion and a few different trees. But after I got back and compared the two frames, I realized I wasn’t right at all – these are two separate locations.

not the same cove on Morgan Creek
They’re close, so maybe I can be excused, but even allowing for a difference in focal length, that right bank is way too low, which can’t be put down to drastic erosion with trees of that size on it. So, not there yet. But I’m probably returning again today and going a bit further out on the trails, so we’ll see what happens.

But how? Part 22: Guidance

There is an extremely common debating/arguing tactic wherein, instead of defending a position when challenged, one goes on the counteroffensive, attacking an opponent’s position rather than explaining or justifying their own. I have made it a point to try and avoid such a stance in this topical series, because the whole premise is defending and defining a secular position. This one, however, is going to present both approaches because the perspective could be very useful. So let’s look into the atheistic answer to the question, But how does one obtain any moral guidance without religion?

First off, atheism does not, by nature or definition, propose any such guidance, mostly because it is presumed that none is needed, which highlights the curious attitude within nearly all religions that people (other people, at least) are aimless children. As detailed in part seven, many aspects of religion are cultural assumptions rather than necessities. More directly, atheism is simply a lack of belief, and is not an ideology. It’s like saying, “I’m not a dancer” – no rules or criteria are implied by this statement and few, if any, people would splutter, “But… but what do you do when the music starts?”

Secular humanism, which is often closely linked to atheism, is an ideology, and does provide some basic moral guidance; in short, one does what is best for others, using other people as the arbiter rather than any claimed authority figure. What’s curious about this is, secular humanism only exists because of religion, since it is the ground state of moral decisions in the absence of authority; I mean, morality is defined by how we treat others – that’s the entire purpose of the concept. And the notable aspect of humanism is, it’s not really an active thing: it does not codify behavior, it does not involve dictating or preaching or, really, much of anything beyond simple guidelines, and fully 50 percent of why those guidelines even exist is because religion has devoted so much effort into establishing an alternate concept: that the appeasement of some authority figure rates higher in priority than the people in our community. Expressed this way, it sounds like a dictatorship, and anyone is welcome to define the fundamental difference, especially in a way that makes religion “good.”

I don’t want to be unfair, and will readily admit that a lot of religiously-motivated guidelines and proscriptions revolve around how we treat others; that’s excellent, and I say that honestly. There’s a big caveat that’s going to come up shortly, however, so right now I’ll simply repeat that the primary difference between humanism and religion is the overall goal: humanism puts people first, while religion puts authority first. That’s obeisance, not morality.

Which brings us to the heart of the matter, which is, we’re not stupid. We can actually figure out, with very little effort, good courses of action; benefit and detriment are not exactly advanced concepts far beyond the scope of our primitive little brains. And this is where it gets the most amusing, because a frequent lament from the religious, part of the rabid motivation behind decrying evolution, is that we would be savages, nothing but animals, without the guidance of a holy spirit. Savor, for a moment, the frequently-repeated idea that we were made in god’s image, and what this is supposedly saying. Even if we blithely ignore the idea that such a god must be a savage itself (the more literal interpretation of “in god’s image”,) we still come back to the nuanced idea that we were intended to be this way, for whatever reason, and yet still given free will to decide whether or not we could actually decide something. Yeah, figure that one out. Meanwhile, those that understand biology know we are animals ourselves, by every definition except the weird religious one, and those that understand animal behavior know of the community-supporting instincts that countless other species maintain, ensuring the cohesion of the pack or troop or hive; in a disturbing number of cases, it’s far better than what we humans get up to, despite our vaunted intelligence and guidance from on high.

In fact, far too often, it’s precisely because of this guidance. It is an ultimate authority that is invariably referred to when concepts such as heretics and infidels are resorted to, and it’s remarkably easy for people in this country to forget (or openly and forcefully ignore) that the violent response fostered by such concepts still goes on today in numerous parts of the world. But even if we consider these exceptions rather than common facets, the amount of religiously-inspired bigotry, throughout the world, is astounding, as is the blatant classism that’s due to religion. People do not flaunt religious symbols as reminders of how to behave, for themselves or others, but to define themselves as ‘special.’ And an awful lot of religious activity, supposedly to instill moral behavior, does not consist of making a convincing case for the benefits, but only of pronouncing what someone must do, on penalty of god’s wrath. Again, not guidance, and in fact, blatant arrogance and condescension towards others in the assumption that they cannot make decisions on their own, nor fathom a decent rationale.

It is instructive to examine the differences between sin and crime. Crimes are actions that deprive or injure others, or at least (in the case of traffic laws) stand the chance of doing so, and within most enlightened and progressive governments, are enforced without regard to class distinctions; that last aspect is where secularity comes in, establishing a more equal status among all residents. Sin, however, can be just about anything, and very often demonstrates no harm or even outward effect other than offending a claimed deity; think of homosexuality, masturbation, eating shellfish, building fires on the sabbath, taking the lord’s name in vain, and so on. Every religion has its own particular set, and outside of things that receive the title of ‘sin,’ there are countless more proscribed actions and attitudes in attendance. Many of them, however, are particular to only one religion, and often seen as irrelevant or downright goofy when viewed by others. Right here is where religious conflict arises, as those steeped in the ultimate authority angle take grave offense at those who do not follow or recognize such proscriptions, and rather than accepting the idea that differences in cultures are hardly anything worth worrying about, they insist that their own peculiar rules should be followed by all others regardless. The argument that atheism is “just another form of religion” is trashed by the simple fact that atheists, and humanists, claim no special status nor demand allowances for a personal culture; they just don’t think anyone else should demand them either, an emphasis on equality that is anathema to far too many religious folk.

We come back to the religious idea that obeying authority is what defines ‘good,’ which might initially sound reasonable – until, at least, we consider the huge number of authority figures throughout history that were vicious and loathsome. The moral lesson that we inevitably realize is that authority must be beholden to the higher standard of ‘good’ (or ‘beneficial,’ as I tend to say to distinguish it from the cultural belief that “god=good”) – if our leaders are incapable of maintaining a standard of beneficial actions to as many as possible, then they do not deserve a following. The utility and benefit of this simple criteria cannot be emphasized enough, since it was only in its absence that so many of history’s abominable events even took place.

Now we get the the part where it gets the most interesting. I’ve remarked before that I have never, ever, seen one perfectly devout religious individual, either personally or even heard tell of; without exception, all seem perfectly willing to ignore certain aspects of their faith and/or their scripture. And truth be told, the emphasis on the important aspects, the ones worthy of attention and devotion, changes frequently. Some of the sins and proscriptions mentioned earlier, while considered part of the religion held by any given individual, are nonetheless ignored as unimportant or irrelevant, as are many others. Most striking is the distance often implied or stated between the fringe elements, the zealous fanatics or terrorists, and the ‘mainstream’ religious cultures, because the aspects that the fanatics are frothing over are usually right there in the scripture; it’s the mainstream faithful that are ignoring those passages. Which is fine, and commendable really – most of those passages are batshit anyway. But if they are, as we are told, intended as guidance, then how does this even occur? Are we admitting that some of these words from on high are not only useless, they’re outwardly damaging to culture and individuals? How can we, poor ignorant savages that we are, dismiss the bits that condone slavery and child beating? How are we even capable of thinking that exterminating the heretics is something not worth pursuing?

The answer, of course, is that culture defines our guidance and acceptable actions more than scripture in these cases, and for most cases; in times past, it was culture that made us feel we should be following them. And culture is us – we define it and shape it, often all by our feeble little selves. Let’s face it: if we’re trusted to drive vehicles and fly aircraft, raise kids and even possess sharp objects, we’re probably capable of making a few nuanced decisions.

Which is not to say that we can do without any form of guidance and trust in our sense of community; we are still a conflicted and subconsciously-motivated species, prone to justifying base desires in myriad ways. But neither are we so abysmally stupid that we cannot reason out good courses of action on our own without the input of any supposed higher power, especially when we can see countless aspects of this input that not only serve no beneficial purpose, they’re actively harmful to others and inhibit a respectful and mutually supportive society. [It is, unsurprisingly, this aspect that fosters the abandonment of faith in many people, since it’s hard for any thinking person to look at guidelines for the appropriate treatment of slaves and believe that this came from a higher being and not some self-important priest back in the bronze age.] Most importantly, useful guidance is going to come from having the goals of a strong and supportive community, an attitude that is not fostered by obeisance or the self-imposed status of being devout.

If we can look back at history and be appalled at the actions of the authority figures therein, then we have everything we need to make decisions without special guidance; we already know what constitutes good and bad. And when the inevitable argument that “god must be good” comes up, we have the simple criteria that we can easily see what’s good, and what’s not, for those around us – redefining “good” is unnecessary. And I should never have to offer this reminder, but usually do anyway: it is not god that is dictating actions, but some lesser authority figure, often while interpreting scripture rather cavalierly. We are frequently told that god has the power to do anything, so no help from us is necessary, is it? Meanwhile, the same people tell us god wants us to be good, so we have the power to make these decisions, correct? And as a final point, the very first thing that any authority figure bent on manipulation insists upon is utter, unquestioning servitude – don’t think, don’t speak up, don’t deviate from the status quo. Yeah, great – that’s always proven to be beneficial.

[I insert here a peculiar reflection. The foremost path to holy damnation is, naturally, failure to accept god in one’s heart and all such variations. However, valuing people around us in defiance of this, while earning one a place in hell, still stands to benefit others – a rather selfless pursuit, with of course one person earning punishment while perhaps many others gaining benefits; this is why I have often pointed out that being concerned with one’s own salvation is remarkably self-centered and anti-social. Curiously, however, this is exactly what jesus is said to have done, dying to absolve others’ sins. But then, the message we are repeatedly told this provides is, “be blindly faithful.” Seriously, what the fuck? Now, while this is solely a christian issue, it demonstrates a very common trait throughout all religions, that of abandoning thinking and careful examination for parroting scripture, no matter how hypocritical or pointless it may be – and these same people want to tell us that this is a useful path.]

Here’s a final aspect that bears examination. Throughout the world, there are countless religiously-motivated efforts to control the actions and choices of others, ranging from trying to suppress science and biology education in public schools through anti-homosexual legislation to outright beheadings; the influence of religion is far-reaching even when being completely pointless and, in many cases, highly detrimental and damaging. Now, numerous religious folk could read this and assert that this does not describe their particular sect of religion. But quite frankly, who gives a shit? No one is concerned with who ignores which passage, and it’s pretty damn cowardly to try and protect one’s status by simply saying, “It wasn’t me.” If the guidance is what is supposed to set religious folk apart, where is the guidance to act against such abuses, to instead emphasize beneficial works and goals? Why do these distasteful ‘fringe’ elements still exist, and who’s going to take responsibility for it?

And why is it, whenever anyone actually speaks out against such abuses, the vast majority of religious folk begin to whine and froth that it’s an attempt to destroy religion? Suddenly, they want to be closely associated with such elements? They want to be defined as abusive, manipulative, and unstable? I would have thought that eliminating such elements – cleaning their own house, as it were – would be the kind of good actions that they keep telling me their god wants them to do, but what do I know?

1 198 199 200 201 202 311