little piece of the wild

WE'VE LAUNCHED!

2012-02-10T18:00:00.000-08:00

WE DID IT! We launched our KICKSTARTER Fundraiser!

Got our glitches sorted out with Amazon. We're up and rolling!

Stop reading and click HERE to check it out.

KICKSTARTING Our Osprey

2012-01-23T12:05:00.000-08:00

If you've been following my blog, you're well aware of my efforts to document the Kalamazoo River Osprey. With the birds presently vacationing in South America, I've been busy getting everything in order for their return in late March or early April. That includes raising funds to finish the film!

We've decided to go with the amazing new website, KICKSTARTER, as our fundraising engine. It's a new and exciting way to connect donors with important and creative projects. We'll be launching our campaign in early February and it'll run until March 1st.

Moneys raised will help finance more filming of the birds when they return; conducting interviews with biologists, including reknowned Osprey expert, Sergej Postupalski; editing and preparing the video for a premiere and broadcast on WGVU; and purchasing a nest-cam for a new nesting platform that John Brenneman of the Kalamazoo Nature Center is constructing in conjunction with Georgia Pacific who owns the property.

The beauty of KICKSTARTER is that it makes fundraising collaborative and fun. The other selling point for people are the rewards that come with the different pledge amounts. We're cooking up some enticing gifts ourselves, all relating to the osprey.

So, stay tuned for the official launch and a link to our homepage on KICKSTARTER.

21st Century Landscapes

2012-01-09T09:06:00.000-08:00

I'm proud to announce that the two photos below were recently accepted into a photo exhibit at Crooked Tree Arts Center in Petoskey, Michigan. The opening is January 21st. Come join us if you can.

The show is an exhibit for all genres and themes of photography, so I felt as though I needed pictures that transcend the wildlife genre and speak to broader themes.

I chose these two images because they capture that constantly shifting intersection of the natural world and the human-made world. For me, this is the modern, ecological frontier, where the adaptive capacity of all species is being tested by our relentless transformation of the planet. The deer and the red-tailed hawk for instance are actually doing extremely well - but some animals simply aren't.

But good or bad, I'm searching for the beauty--and life--in our 21st century landscapes. I guess if there's an animal living/surviving in an altered landscape, there is an iota of hope. And where there's hope, there's beauty.

More Snowy

2012-01-04T18:47:00.001-08:00

Snowy Owls are the buzz across the nation.

Here's an NPR article.

Snowy

2011-12-29T19:08:00.000-08:00

Snowy owl at the airport...

but still no snow on the ground.

Times are a changin'

Dad

2011-12-22T17:23:00.001-08:00

This blog, these photos, and my passion for the wild would most likely not exist had it not been for the influences of my Dad. If we trace our life journey back to the beginning, invariably we find our parents tracks scattered all over the path we may have mistakenly thought was all our own.

My Dad planted numerous influences when we were young that gave rise to my love of the wild, and eventually my pursuit of wildlife photography. There were the family camping trips to Pentwater, Michigan, occasional outings to the Nature Center and Kleinstuck Preserve, and always choosing to live near a little patch of wilderness in the city that became a convenient playground (and perhaps a baby sitter) for me and my brother.

Dad too was a photographer of sorts - not a professional or avid shutterbug, but he was editor of the yearbook at WMU during his college years and a camera was probably hanging around his neck most of the time. He always seemed to have a camera around the house, so the SLR was a familiar tool to me from an early age.

Most significantly, Dad was a life-long birder, and retirement gave him the time to more fully pursue that passion. It suited his shy, unassuming personality as well as his penchant for categorizing, something he did for over 30 years as the head librarian at Kalamazoo Central High School. Birding took him all over North America, including Texas, Arizona, Florida, California, Nova Scotia and of course all over Southwest Michigan. For me, it was the birding trips he and I took to New Mexico and Alaska that really began to secure my fate as a wildlife photographer.

There was one incident though that I believe really etched a love of wildlife and wilderness into my soul.

I was around 12 or 13 and the family went camping up at Wilderness State Park at the northernmost tip of the Lower Peninsula. We camped, in tents, right next to the beach at the main campground, which was in and of itself a primal experience for a wee lad such as myself.

One morning we got up particularly early and began the day with a breakfast I'll never forget. It was at a little roadside joint outside the park where we had homemade, plain doughnuts that were deep-fried right in front of us. Best donuts I've ever had. I'm sure Dad and the adults washed it down with coffee.

We then drove due east to Waugoshance Point, the peninsula that really defines Wilderness State Park. We drove as far as we could and then hiked for a half hour or so, which was a long way for us back then. We knew we'd arrived when we reached the shore and could see the peninsula shooting out into Lake Michigan. It was vast and open, unlike anything I'd seen before. It felt like the edge of the world. My dad began glassing with his binoculars and spotted a bird down the shoreline, way up in the sky. He was excited. He handed us the binoculars but you still couldn't quite make out any details other than it was a big bird soaring high up in the sky. He told us it was a Bald Eagle. It was my very first sighting and I knew it was a big deal.

Not only are Eagles majestic birds, this was during the seventies and Bald Eagles were endangered and rare in Michigan. My dad knew this and understood the import of a sighting, albeit distant and small to the eye. He shared this with us and when I think back on that moment it sums up so much about my love of the wild. That Eagle was just a speck in the sky, but knowing what it was and that it was so rare created a mythological dimension to the wild that has never left. This is the special something about the natural world that is nearly impossible to explain, but easy to understand when you experience it. My photography and video have been the never ending pursuit of that moment and sensation. May it never end.

That sighting was one of my Dad's greatest gifts to us, whether he knew it or not.

Sadly, Dad passed away Monday, December 19th from bladder cancer at Rose Arbor Hospice in Kalamazoo. I am forever grateful for all that he's given me.

Naked Buck

2011-12-13T15:38:00.001-08:00

My last post was a photo of this same buck, seen through a narrow opening in the woods. He was tending a doe in a muddy lowland area and never presented himself in a clearing. It was a constant struggle against clutter - trying to snap a shot without branches, shadows and treetrunks obstructing his dandy rack.

I snapped the above photo by rattling him in while a doe group was meandering in the area. When he walked on to the gravel road my heart raced because he was not only close--perhaps 15 yards--but was glaringly visible. Not a single obstruction.

What's particularly strange to me is that you can see his hooves, something normally hidden by grass or mud. Not only is this a strange reminder that nimble footed deer are trotting around the wilderness on what look like high heels, it makes this buck appear almost naked, as if a deer normally wears the forest, or the field. This raises the fundamental question: are animals in general "naked"? Or is fur like a kind of "clothing".

These are the things you think about when you're waiting for deer.

A WINDOW

2011-12-01T10:21:00.001-08:00

I'm always seeking a clear view of an animal.

Sometimes all you get is a small window -

and that's all you need.

LIKE CLOCKWORK

2011-11-22T06:52:00.001-08:00

My wait for rut action this year ended officially on November 7th.

What's astonishing about this fact is that it began last year on the exact same date in the exact same location.

Last year I discovered the buck below, Don Juan, following a doe in front of WMU's School of Engineering in the early morning of November 7th. Because of his fixation on that doe, I was able to photograph him for a good half hour.

This year I arrived at WMU's Research Park to discover the EXACT same scenario unfolding in front of the school, which led to another half hour photo session with this beautiful buck and his "lady".

Talk about creatures of habit.

THE WAIT IS OVER

2011-11-09T07:10:00.001-08:00

Distraction and Superstition

2011-11-08T03:11:00.000-08:00

One of the reasons I went macro is because waiting for the rut to ripen--affording a priceless shot of a big buck--can be a tiring excercise in patience. So rather than loom over the pot, waiting for it to boil, I've lost myself in the tiny worlds that normally fall under foot.

My own personal superstition also tells me that the bigger the distraction out in the field, the bigger the buck will be when I peer up from obsessing over a blade of grass. This phenomena was beautifully depicted in one of my favorite films, Never Cry Wolf, when the main character has his first, meaningful, wolf encounter after he's completely immersed himself in photographing a wildflower.

When this phenomena doesn't work, and you miss the shot, it's Murphy's Law.

MORE MACRO

2011-11-02T11:11:00.000-07:00

I've Gone Macro

2011-10-29T11:48:00.000-07:00

I rented a macro lens this past week, and it was the key to another dimension. Wow! The doors it opened and the way it translated the smaller worlds was amazing. I'm hooked.

I turned the lens on the expiration date of autumn and found much beauty and awe in the way plants die and transform. I'll let you guess what the above photo is.

More to come...

PAW PAWS and the Joy of Discovery

2011-10-26T20:07:00.000-07:00

Come this time of year, I often ask people whether they've had a paw paw. The most frequent response is, "what's a paw paw?"

Paw Paw, Michigan was named after the paw paw. Not many people know that.

We're in the northern most range of this exquisite, tropical fruit, and if you look carefully you just might find some growing out in the wild.

The fact that so few people have any idea what a paw paw is, or that it grows natively in our state, makes the paw paw emblematic of the enduring discovery that still greets us right outside our back doors. There are still fruits and plants and animals that have--for what ever reason--flown below our radars of experience. In other words, there's still a lot to discover out there. And the rewards can be great, particularly in the case of the paw paw.

I only came to know the paw paw a few years back and it was a discovery that has sweetened my life. It's safe to say the paw paw is now my favorite fruit. There's nothing quite like it: it's a cross between a mango and a banana. It's especially sweet, almost sugary, and is a custard-like consistency. They're absolutely delicious.

Once I tasted them I was obsessed with finding them in the wild. That's part of the adventure, and also because you won't find them at the store (except for the People's Food Co-op, which, for the first time I believe, had them in their produce section this year). The paw paw isn't especially cooperative though when it comes to mass marketing. It perishes easily and I believe can be difficult to grow. That's why most people have never heard of them: because it's the round fruit that never fit in the square peg of industrial food. That's the converse beauty of our commercial world: it's one page menu can actually deprive us of choice, yet inadvertently creates a cornicopia of discovery once you "go native" with produce.

MORE SLEEPING BEAR

2011-10-13T18:58:00.000-07:00

BACK TO SLEEPING BEAR

2011-10-11T19:41:00.001-07:00

I was lucky enough this past week to catch the Sleeping Bear in autumn splendor, something I've longed to witness for years.

The leaves were peaking and the weather was warm.

There is never enough time.

Yet time stood still.

OTTAWA MARSH

2011-09-25T15:28:00.000-07:00

Lesser Yellowlegs

RIDING THE "WAVE"

2011-09-20T06:20:00.000-07:00

Just got a nice feature article from Kalamazoo's new online magazine, Second Wave. An alleged "fan" recommended they do an article on me and low and behold, they did. Thanks to Kathy Jennings and Erik Holladay.

The nice thing about the article is that it focuses primarily on my recent work documenting the Osprey that nested in the old Georgia Pacific lot this past summer. I've been waiting to publicly announce the doc and this serves as a great heralding. Check out the article by clicking here, and be sure to check back for updates on the doc.

HUNTING PUP

2011-09-17T13:46:00.000-07:00

Wounded Warrior

2011-09-14T18:33:00.000-07:00

They're out there...

2011-09-04T07:27:00.000-07:00

Much to my surprise, I'm seeing (and hearing about) some stellar bucks in the woods behind my house.

I thought all the big bucks were poached, or never made it past 8 points because of poachers.

This year is proving that speculation of mine to be all wrong. Sometimes I like being wrong.

This slightly lopsided 10 point was the only one I managed to photograph. Another larger, taller and more symmetrical buck has refused to show himself ever since the evening I was out scouting and we both saw each other. We were both startled, and clearly for different reasons.

And his disappearing act sits well with buck lore that says big bucks don't get to be that big and that old without a certain kind of smarts.

I just pray I'm old and smart enough to snap his picture sometime this season. Then he'll enter into my own personal lore.

Our Favorite National Park

2011-08-28T12:57:00.000-07:00

Platte River Point - where the river meets the lake and the sun greets the day.

Sleeping Bear Dunes.

I just returned from a week long business trip to the "northern Lower" (translation for non-Michiganders: the norther part of the Lower Peninsula). I was interviewing people for an orientation video for North Country Community Mental Health. I interviewed around 25 patients from East Tawas, Alpena, and Petoskey. What a moving and inspiring experience to hear how people with a mental illness cope and function and thrive and help others. There was a humility and gentleness of spirit that suddenly illuminated Jesus' statement, "the meek shall inherit the Earth". Indeed.

At the tail end of my trip I managed to squeeze in a morning at Sleeping Bear Dunes to photograph the sun rising at Platte River Point. This is of course in the wake of Good Morning America's vote for Sleeping Bear Dunes as our most beautiful National Park. Although it's dear to my heart as a Michigander and has always had my vote, I kept pondering why it was voted America's favorite out of all the spectacular National Parks.

It occurred to me that as a vote, it's possible our economically challenged state flooded the polls with the hopes of attracting tourists. Stranger things have happened. But assuming it was a genuine vote of appeal, I think I know why it stands out as our favorite.

Other parks could easily outrank Sleeping Bear on the grounds of grandeur: Yosemite, Yellowstone, Grand Canyon, Denali all offer a dramatic landscape that gives rise to an awe and humility in the face of the Earth's power and scale. But that same immensity can overwhelm and distance a person from the land, whereas Sleeping Bear, with it's gentle dunes and the warm, clean water of Lake Michigan invite you in. It welcomes you to enter into it's sandy folds. There is a subtle grandeur to the park that brings about a peace of mind or even slumber for a summer vacation. The name itself sums it up with it's sleeping bear. With the spate of recent bear attacks abroad, this is a pleasant thought.

Now with the park in the national spotlight, we can only hope she doesn't become overwhelmed with too many tourists. What a shame it would be if we smothered the very beauty that drew us to her in the first place.

THEY FLY - I FLY

2011-08-14T06:59:00.001-07:00

Nothing triggers my imagination for flight more than a fledging bird. Their first "steps" are mine. Watching the juvey osprey test out their wings, actually flapping against the air, or fanning their wings out against a firm breeze, and feeling a brief lift, is a visceral experience. You can feel it. I can vicariously imagine what it would be like myself to be airborne, way more so than observing an experienced flyer like the adults. Their aerial magic is more akin to an olympic gymnast. They're so good they make it look easy, and frankly impossible for a layman like myself. It's simply beyond me. But watching, and feeling, these young osprey pushing against the air and contemplating their power, realizing what their wings are actually capable of, puts me right their in their shoes.

I can also relate to their anxiety of leaping out into the air. Every moment of their life up to their first flight has been earth bound through their nest. Their first leap is my first leap, and suddenly the terror, the rush of that first flight is as palpable as it would be for me jumping out of an airplane for the first time, or maybe hang-gliding off a cliff.

The other flight aid for me and my mind was a photo I snapped of a fledgling with it's wings spread out fully in the nest. I could see more clearly than ever the wing bones extending out from the chest. Suddenly the feathers looked like drapes or a cape, hanging off the birds "arms" (not unlike what you see in photos of bats). Prior to this little aha moment, I always viewed the wings as one big feathery appendage, extending out from the body. This little anatomy lesson was also a keen reminder that we're anatomically pretty similar. One might even say we're related.

In the end though, while the young osprey are twisting, turning and soaring through the air over the river and beyond, I'm still earthbound in my chair, typing this rumination. Fact is: I can't fly. This is where my imagination turns to envy. Oh well.

FLEDGED!

2011-08-10T14:15:00.001-07:00

As of today, Wednesday, August 10th, all three juvy Osprey have officially fledged! After months of living entirely within the confines of a 3 foot wide nest, 40 feet in the air.

Bright and early this windy morning, a friend and I were lucky enough to witness the very first flight of the last fledgling. And the tape was rolling! I was able to tape the pondering, the anxiety, and finally a bold and decisive leap out into mid air. It was spectacular.

And what made it even more breathtaking--in addition to the gusting winds that were blowing her around--was the fact that she just kept flying and flying and flying, circling the nest, the poles, and the vast, vacant lot she's only been able to survey from the nest for the past couple months. Although we didn't see the others fledge, I presume they flew rather quickly and frantically to the safety of the neighboring telephone pole. Not this one. She flew for almost five minutes before flying out of our sight and into the realm of worry in our minds, especially after not seeing her return to either of the poles after nearly fifteen minutes. We thought perhaps the challenge of landing was keeping her indefinitely aloft.

We eventually glassed the entire lot and found her perched on a telephone pole way over on the other side of the property, near Michigan Ave. Maybe an hour later she eventually flew back to her family on the poles.

The whole morning was grand. Check out the birds if you can. The young are flying laps around the lot, testing their wings - and from what I can tell, completely loving their new found freedom in flight.

ALL EYES ON THE OSPREY

2011-08-04T13:55:00.000-07:00

(Above)

A young osprey tests it's wings against a firm breeze down at the Old Georgia Pacific lot on the Kalamazoo River.

He also tests the patience of a sibling when he comes down on their head with razor sharp talons.

-----------------

These guys are precisely why I haven't been blogging as of late. I've been busy documenting the osprey for the past couple weeks, in preparation for a short documentary that will eventually broadcast locally, and eventually makes it's way online. I'll definitely keep you posted.

It's been quite a while since I've captured wildlife with "moving pictures"--not to mention sound--and it's a thrill to be back at it. It's also a magnified challenge compared to photography and the pursuit of a single image. Where as a picture's "worth a thousand words", moving pictures are like novels by comparison. Not that I'm creating a feature length documentary (I suspect this video will be a half hour long) but the complexity in weaving a story, over time, with footage, interviews, sounds, narration, and eventually music, requires way more focus and commitment than capturing single images. Ah, but what a treat.

These birds are in such a unique environment, down there at the intersection of industry, wilderness, traffic, the river, the PCB's, the politics, and of course, the multitudes of people drawn to the front gate to watch the Osprey and their young. And I believe the video will capture this unique milieu - with of course, a great deal of my own perception and flare thrown into the mix.

Perhaps my favorite dimension to this story are the people and their love of the birds. It's amazing how wildlife can bring people together, from so many different backgrounds, and generate so much good will.

There is of course a great measure of hope surrounding their nest, perched atop a telephone pole in the old Georgia Pacific lot. What exactly their presence represents, from an ecological/environmental standpoint, is yet to be determined. That's what I hope to uncover in the documentary.

Time to turn to the scientists and the experts. Sometimes they can tell us what wildlife simply can't.

Kestrel Under Osprey

2011-07-25T07:31:00.000-07:00

The good news is in: the Osprey over in the old Georgia Pacific lot are a happy, family unit of five, with three healthy chicks. With rapidly forming wings, they're beginning to test them out in the nest, preparing for their fledge only a couple weeks away. I've been toughing it out in a tiny blind, in this sweltering heat, documenting them for a future video. Believe me, I'll be posting more on these birds soon.

During my many sits I've observed another aerial pair working this quirky little zone or habitat. A male and female Kestrel have been hunting regularly off the wires of the telephone pole that cradles the Osprey nest directly above. Since they target grasshoppers and small rodents, and the Osprey never veer from their diet of fish, they both have their distinct niche and can successfully coexist so close to one another. A nice, micro layering of biodiversity.

Seagull Makes Film

2011-07-06T20:00:00.000-07:00

Who ever said animals can't make art.

The One That Survived

2011-06-24T11:55:00.000-07:00

Southern Michigan is allegedly home to the southernmost, and second southernmost nesting pair of loons in the world. Quite an honor for our Great Lakes State. This is apparently as far south as these typically northern birds are willing to reside during the hot months of summer. Aren't we lucky to be in their range of tolerance. They are a splendid bird.

This little guy and his parents are the "second" southernmost pair, and they began as a family of two this year. A friend and his wife canoed the little lake and reported the two chicks on the nest mound and only one day later I was out kayaking only to find one chick. In 24 hours the family was down to one progeny.

Perhaps the success rate of a snapping turtle and his family has just increased.

Let's hope this only-child loon makes it.

DEAR BLOG...

2011-06-21T19:49:00.000-07:00

Dear Blog,

It's been nearly one whole month since I've shared with you, and that lapses into a form of neglect in the world of blogging. But I've been sick, and perhaps the worst casualty of sickness is getting out into the wild. When you're bed-ridden and home-bound, the window and the computer screen become the portals to the wild.

I'm feeling much better and have been fortunate enough to make it out on occasion, which, as you know, is a form of healing in and of itself (that's the irony of illness - inhibiting the very cure by disconnecting you from the outdoors).

Last week I was blessed with a perennial gift: an occasion where I make my usual rounds to a place that's yielded virtually no action, and I'm searching for something completely different, and a rare encounter occurs. This time I was hoping to capture a wobbly-legged fawn, but instead stumbled upon coyote pups!

The father yote was on to me quick though and had no qualms barking, approaching, and signaling that I was too close for comfort. This is all opposite their normal behavior of vanishing into thin air when they sense the slightest trace of human presence.

I'll post some more later, but for now, here are some keepers:

NESTING REDWINGS

2011-05-25T21:29:00.000-07:00

With eggs in the nest, the redwings are on alert.

While kayaking Ottawa Marsh I came upon a nest and these two reacted in opposite fashion: the male flared and defended while the female retreated and hid.

Fight or flight.

Both made a lot of racket.

TALLAMY ON TV

2011-05-23T08:45:00.000-07:00

At last, Douglas Tallamy's wonderful presentation, Gardening for Life, will be broadcast next week on Public Media Network.

The award winning author of Bringing Nature Home was the keynote speaker for a conference on native gardening at the Kalamazoo Nature Center in the Fall of 2009. I was commissioned by the Kalamazoo Area Chapter of Wild Ones to document Tallamy's presentation and the panel discussion following his talk. You can read more about the presentation and the commissioned DVD by clicking here.

If you care about the decline of biodiversity in the world and want to know how you can do something about it right in your backyard, you need to watch this program!

Friday, May 27th @8pm, channel 20

Sunday, May 29th @7pm, channel 19

Tuesday, May 31st @10am, channel 20

Thursday, June 2nd @3pm, channel 19

VARIATIONS ON A THEME

2011-05-23T08:22:00.000-07:00

Oh, how I love the little yellow warbler...let me count the ways.

And words will always fall short of my feelings and affection for Ottawa Marsh.

I made my first trip to Ottawa this year, still early enough in the season to savor

the more delicate shades of Spring's palette.

Ask me anytime of year where I'd like to be, if I could be anywhere

in Southwest Michigan, and I will almost always say: Ottawa Marsh.

OSPREY DEJA VU

2011-05-19T08:11:00.000-07:00

The Osprey are back!

In town along the Kalamazoo River.

They nested at this same spot for the first time two years ago, but were severely pressured by the constant gaze of awe struck onlookers, as well as a meth bust that put every news station van in Southwest Michigan within 10 yards of their nesting pole.

Given all that, I'm surprised they returned.

I'll post more soon. In the meantime, you can read an earlier post about these birds by clicking here.

PEREGRINES ABORT CLUTCH

2011-05-13T09:49:00.000-07:00

The unfortunate update on our peregrines is that Idelle abandoned her nesting spot on the 15th floor of the Fifth Thirds building.

She aborted the clutch about two weeks ago, leaving behind four eggs in a copper-lined rain trough. It's very possible the torrential rains we had a few weeks ago were simply too much for Idelle as the rising water surrounded her and the eggs.

A failed, first clutch is not uncommon and certainly explains the copulating I witnessed recently as the pair makes a second attempt at nesting this year. The birds have also gravitated over to one of the Pfizer buildings, perhaps attracted to what some say is a gravel roof.

Another twist in this story are reports of a third bird. Karen Tindall, who works in the Haymarket building on Michigan Avenue, across the street from Fifth Thirds, reports she saw a third peregrine recently in the area, something Jonathan Morgan (a local birder) witnessed a few weeks back.

I think it's safe to say the falcons are here to stay, and sooner or later they'll succeed with a brood and young will fledge. The question is exactly where and when that will happen.

PROBLEMS WITH BLOGSPOT

2011-05-13T09:42:00.000-07:00

For some unknown reason, Blogspot was having internal difficulties and consequently my last post, "PEREGRINES ABORT CLUTCH", was unexpectedly deleted. I'll be re-writing and re-posting very soon. Stay tuned.

2011-05-05T18:13:00.000-07:00

I'm proud to announce that I,

Matt Clysdale, am now officially

a "dot com".

mattclysdale.com is the home of my new website!

There you'll find samples of both my photographs and videos. There's also a shopping cart if you're interested in purchasing a print.

I'm extremely excited since this is my first centralized website. It's a work in progress, but I've come to realize life itself is a work in progress.

Enjoy!

Paintings by BRENT SPINK

2011-04-26T06:19:00.000-07:00

My good friend and neighbor, Brent Spink, is exhibiting a large collection of his work this Thursday through Sunday (April 28th - May 1st) at 309 North Burdick, right next door to Sarkozy's bakery.

Brent is a master painter of the natural world and has an uncanny ability to capture the sublime, ephemeral beauty of a landscape, whether it's a pristine wetland or a bulldozed wood lot. He's exhibiting works from huge to small, new to old, surreal to real, and epic to everyday.

If you want to open beautiful, new horizons in your home, now is the time to invest in a Spink*.

So, come take in the stirring visions of one of Michigan's finest painters. He's also a great guy to talk to. He'll be there.

Hope to see you,

Matt

Click here to see his Gazette article and get the specific times.

*If he sells enough work, perhaps he won't move out West as planned.

Idelle

2011-04-22T17:55:00.001-07:00

Karen Cleveland of the DNR was able to identify our female falcon using the band identification on her leg. And no, HP does not stand for Hewlett-Packard.

Her name is "Idelle". She was born on May 24th, 2009 at Gold Rock Point, in the Split Rock Lighthouse State Park in Lake County, Minnesota.

All the way from the gorgeous Lake Superior lakeshore - she's a city girl now. Amazing.

Idelle.

Peregrines In Our Future...

2011-04-13T11:46:00.000-07:00

Around this time last year I wrote a post about falcons in Kalamazoo, inspired by a rare sighting of merlins that appeared to be nesting on the west side of town . At the end of that post I mentioned the periodic sightings of peregrine falcons in downtown Kalamazoo and how it would be great if they decided to make our little downtown their home. Well, sometimes in life our wishes are fulfilled.

Hi atop the 5/3rds Bank Building, just inside a rain trough on the 15th floor, rest three peach colored eggs with little reddish-brown specks. Sitting on top is a female falcon, expanding her breast feathers to envelop and protect her precious clutch from the cold spells of a capricious April, or pilfering crows. Periodically, the male, or tiercel, swoops up to the ledge with a dead bird offering and is met with a cry from his hungry mate. Their falcon chatter rings out like the familiar cry of a coopers hawk and is quickly becoming the tell tale sound of our resident pair of nesting peregrines.

For the past two years, people in town have observed peregrines perched on buildings, lamp posts, towers, and soaring the open sky, but never before have we had them nesting. It's well known that peregrines have been nesting in Grand Rapids, Detroit, and other larger, urban centers, but it remained in doubt--at least for me--whether peregrines would deem Kalamazoo suitable habitat. I've always perceived Kalamazoo as a baby city, with only one, maybe two buildings barely qualifying as sky-scrapers. I always wondered whether we were "big" enough for the largest of falcons.

It appears as though we are.

The old, American National Bank, with it's 1929 art deco designs carved into the limestone facade, serves as an urban cliff, looking out over the city and the vast territory of the Kalamazoo River valley, rife with falcon prey: the ubiquitous rock pigeon, the mourning dove, starlings, and countless other birds, including an occasional water fowl (one construction worker noted a duck head on one of the ledges of the building).

Peregrines have adapted beautifully to the rise of a new and almost entirely manufactured landscape: the city-scape. All across the country, and even the world, peregrines are nesting on buildings in our cities, as well as on bridges, smoke-stacks, power plants, radio towers, and any other man made structure that affords that aerial perch to survey the skies for food.

But, let's not count our falcons before they hatch. Our birds chose a questionable spot for nesting: a copper-lined rain trough with nothing to cradle the eggs and fully exposed to rain water, making a successful hatching pretty dubious. Karen Cleveland, all-bird biologist at the Michigan DNR, says it's not unusual for a rookie pair to try nesting in these less than perfect places. A rain trough will of course have water moving, and even coursing through during a torrential downpour, and that's not good for incubation. It can sometimes take successive, annual failings for a couple to attempt a new, successful location. Eventually they get it, and with a bird that can live up to 15 years in the wild, they have some time before they can make a contribution to the overall population of peregrines.

If the birds fail this first attempt, the Bank will hopefully put in (at the request of the DNR), a layer of pea-stone, or install a simple nest-box for either a second round of breeding this year or a completely fresh start next year. A little assistance from the human kind can go a long way, and if you're familiar with the plight of the peregrine over the last 50 years, you know humans have been instrumental in restoring the endangered peregrine population. Which is only appropriate considering it was human-made pesticides that decimated peregrine populations during the middle of the last century. I'll talk about this in a later post.

So, let's root for our resident pair and their first, vulnerable clutch. One way or another, I think they're here to stay. And soon enough, we should have a positive ID on each parent's bands. That way we'll be able to identify each bird and know exactly where they were born! In fact, there's an entire website dedicated to tracking and following the lineage of peregrines in the Midwest. You can find it at the Midwest Peregrine Society.

Although we're by no means the first city to be graced by peregrines, this is our first pair, and for that reason they're special. The fastest animal on the planet now resides on East Michigan Avenue. I'd say that's pretty cool.

I'll be posting more photos and writing about our new celebrity couple. So stay tuned, and either look up for the falcons, or look down on the ground around 5/3rds Bank - you just might see the leftovers from a falcon lunch.

PEREGRINES!

2011-04-07T19:38:00.000-07:00

PEREGRINE FALCONS...

IN DOWNTOWN...

KALAMAZOO!

MORE TO COME...

Why did the swan cross the road?

2011-03-23T10:10:00.000-07:00

All loss of life is just that, a loss. Sometimes it fits neatly into the circle of life, and sometimes it stands out like a tear in the fabric.

A freshly killed mute swan, only a hundred yards down the road from my house, makes you wonder where it fits into that equation. Clearly a tragic fate for a grand and beautiful bird, but if you're familiar with the problem with mute swans as an invasive species, muscling out the more timid, native, trumpeter swan, I found myself thinking of it as a tipping of the scale, even though I realize road-killed mute swans have absolutely no bearing on the real balance of populations.

It's funny how our feelings towards a species change when we have backstory about their character and role in ecology. People who know nothing about mute swans adore the animal, where as people who are ecologically informed often despise them. It's kind of like discovering a well loved sports figure beats and kills dogs in his spare time.

Perhaps the most telling fact to come out of my discovery of the dead swan was how motorists responded to the situation. First of all, it was a motorist who hit, and killed, the swan, and didn't stop to remove the animal from the road. Secondly, the whole time I was laying on the ground filming the swan, not a single car stopped to pull the swan out of the road. The only person to stop, did so because they thought I was injured on the side of the road. Like human road kill.

It took a 911 call to usher in a Kalamazoo Township officer who arrived on the scene and finally dragged the carcass off the road. The caller reported seeing a "suspicious looking package" in the middle of the road.

BACKYARD ANTLERS

2011-03-08T11:52:00.001-08:00

With the blanket of snow now dissolved into the earth, another white now stands out against the dull browns of late winter: the bone white of antlers on the ground. It's shed season.

In that spirit, I'm posting a deleted scene from ANIMALS AMONG US of a family that shares their first, exciting encounter with antler sheds right in their backyard.

I deleted this and a number of other scenes involving people's thoughts and stories involving urban wildlife. I opted to go with my own personal journey of discovery in the film for thematic simplicity. It was a tough decision, but now I have a chance to finally share some of those scenes with you. Enjoy.

The Star of the Show

2011-03-07T18:26:00.000-08:00

I want to thank all the people who came down to the Nature Connection last Friday to see me and the animals. It was a never ending stream of people and conversation, with wildlife and the environment dominating the airwaves. Just the way we like it.

I had a great time and am grateful for old friends showing up, as well as many new friends introducing themselves and sharing some kind of affinity for animals, photography or the environment.

My greatest joy was being able to explain exactly where and how the photographs were taken, especially since most people knew the exact locations. People were dumbfounded to find out that the buck pictured above was photographed at WMU's Research Park, and that the church in the background was a couple hundred yards away, with Highway 131 running between the two. That fact elicited a number of "aha's". And from now on, I bet they'll see that spot on the highway in a completely different light.

Based on feedback from people, as well as sales, the clear favorite for the night was the gray fox photo, which didn't surprise me since it was probably my favorite as well. I love that photo because it's the quintessential "urban animal" (although playgrounds are just as easily sub-urban or even rural). And with the fox so small in relation to the bars of the jungle gym, it perfectly represents that "little piece of the wild".

New Work at the Nature Connection

2011-02-25T11:21:00.000-08:00

I'm proud to announce that I'm the featured artist at the Nature Connection for the months of March and April. The opening reception will be the March Art Hop, Friday, March 4th from 5-9pm.

I'm unveiling a new series of photographs, including the "Holy Buck", a glorious picture of a 9 point buck in front of a church (the photo reminds me of the Jagermeister logo), the rough-legged hawk pictured above, a beautiful shot of a doe on an old railroad bed, a little carolina wren, and many others, including a few favorites from my show at Water Street Coffee Joint last Fall.

I'd also like to mention that nearly all the animals were photographed in Kalamazoo, making the majority of the animals truly "native". This is a continuation of my urban wildlife theme that began years ago with my wildlife documentary, ANIMALS AMONG US.

So come on down this Friday for some good cheer, conversation, and of course, the splendor of the natural world.

The Hot Months of Winter

2011-02-15T19:09:00.001-08:00

For wildlife organizations, Valentines Day is an opportunity to shed light on the mating habits of animals: how the wild things hook up, mate, "love" one another (although the scientific ilk will shy away from the word) and stay together - or not. And for good reason, it's pretty intriguing stuff.

In our own neck of the woods, this final stretch of winter is actually a hot period for a number of species. Fox and coyote are pairing up and mating; the coyote being a little later than fox. And with their sex-drives engaged, I'm hoping to exploit their lust and lure some in for a photo by impersonating a female (this is done vocally - not visually). Howl like a female in estrus and a male just might come running in.

Another notorious winter breeder/nester is the great horned owl, pairing up in January/February. Although the screech owl is a little later in March, I included a photo of a lone male who moved into a friend's wood-duck box. He's waiting for a female to come along in search of a mate with a home. I think this guy's got it going on; I Hope she finds him.

BIG HEART - BIG LOVE

2011-02-14T17:33:00.000-08:00

A model of a blue whale's heart.

Speaking of Valentines Day...

2011-02-14T17:30:00.000-08:00

Matters of the Heart

Posted on Thursday, February 10, 2011 by eNature

Ruby-throated Hummingbird
© Ron Austing

Blue Whale spouting
© Bud Lehnhausen

Think those heart-shaped boxes of Valentine’s chocolates are impressive? Compared to the size of a human heart perhaps. But a whale’s heart dwarfs even those samplers that require weightlifters to hoist them.

Picture a heart the size of a car. That’s what a Blue Whale possesses—a heart that deserves its own parking space. And how does a heart like that pump? Very slowly. In fact, a Blue Whale’s heart beats just five or six times per minute when the whale is at the surface and even slower when the animal dives. A human heart, by contrast, typically beats seventy times per minute at rest. And a hummingbird’s heart, for even greater contrast, beats five hundred times per minute at rest and more than a thousand times per minute when the bird flies.

But don’t underestimate the little hummingbird. Its heart is the largest proportionally of any animal. Whereas the average mammal’s heart comprises less than 1 percent of its total body weight, a hummingbird’s heart can be more than twice that figure. For a Blue Whale, that’s the equivalent of a two-car garage.

Canoeing The Kazoo - After The Storm

2011-02-05T18:18:00.000-08:00

The first full day following Snowpocalypse in Kalamazoo was all sun and beautifully crisp and cold, with temperatures down around 5º or so. A perfect day to canoe the Kalamazoo River. Which is what I did last week.

And the river was absolutely beautiful. She offered up a bevy of exciting sightings, including a couple of firsts for me photographically.

There were eagles everywhere, including many juveniles - testament to the return of the eagle to our area.

I was finally able to photograph pileated woodpeckers, after countless attempts along the shore of the river.

I saw, and photographed, my first red-shouldered hawk. A beautiful bird.

An extraordinary day was capped off with an unexpected end and exit. I put in at Mosel Avenue and canoed up to Plainwell. But just upstream of the Plainwell dam, the river had frozen over completely from the impact of the blizzard. So I had to navigate a somewhat harrowing escape from an ice jam and make my way to the bank where I hauled out my canoe and had to call a friend to come pick me up in his truck.

It was one of those moments when you get glimpses of what it would be like if something were to go really wrong. Fortunately, I was well prepared, including hip high waders that enabled me to wade out through large chunks of floating ice and even use the bow of my canoe to break though the barrier of ice all along the banks.

When my friend arrived, we had to drag my canoe through a horse pasture in the dark. It was truly a bizarre experience.

I suspect the icing was due in part to the slowing of the river by the dam. I had never heard nor expected such a thing. For this and many other reasons, it made me want to remove all dams from all rivers. Let the river flow and run it's course, so I can run mine!

Loving the Cold - From My Car!

2011-01-24T19:17:00.000-08:00

From the perspective of mercury--or those who loathe the Michigan winters--the nadir of winter has finally arrived. It's cold! From my perspective, winter is finally peaking.

I love extremes, and the numbing, humbling months of January/February are what sweeten the forthcoming relief of the spring thaw, when it finally arrives.

Having said that, I know my limitations, and when it's hovering around zero snapping pictures with frozen digits gets difficult, especially if it requires stealth or quickness. That's why I compromised with the elements and took a day trip up to the Allegan State Game Area's Farm Unit to photograph rough legged hawks. The reason being: I can take pictures from the relative comfort of my car!

The hawks perch on trees and telephone poles next to the road and have a limited tolerance for cars. So I can drive up and stick my rocket size lens out the window and have a relatively close encounter with an animal that otherwise is pretty mistrusting of humans.

The whole time, I can enjoy the fine blend of arctic air outside the window mixing with the blast of engine-hot air from inside the car.

PERSONALITY

2011-01-03T20:35:00.000-08:00

It’s a rare occasion to observe personality in an animal.

Of course there’s the personality of a species: the seemingly dim-witted opossum as it waddles through the woods vs. the cunning focus of a coyote as it bee-lines accross a field. What I’m talking about is the personality that distinguishes one coyote from another, or one opossum from another. In this particular instance, it's the personality of two, different whitetail deer.

Now, I’ll preface my story by mentioning that what I witnessed occurred on the day of the lunar eclipse in December, which coincidentally occurred on the Winter Solstice (very rare!). So when it comes to behavior, it’s very possible there were some external forces at work on these deer. But even so, you can still say these two bucks “responded” very differently.

This first buck (above) came to my attention during the peak of the rut (see BUCKS AMONG US) when I saw him shadowing a dominant 8 who I call Don Juan, and a doe in heat. He was limping around from a previous injury that also caused the right side of his rack to wing out and down. I called him Limpy and felt bad for him for badly wanting to breed but always losing out because of his handicap.

Well I caught up with him on the day of the Solstice bedding in some evergreens at Western’s Research Park, and he was chumming around with a young button buck. I was always inrigued by his atypical rack and it wasn’t until I got home and reviewed these photos that I noticed his handicap: he was completely missing his rear, left hoof! Something I completely missed before.

His personality emerged when I followed him for a better photo and like most deer, he wasn’t about to let me come up and pet him. As I pushed, he hobbled away. And when I approached too much, he bolted across an open field. What got me was his determination to run and avoid me, regardless of his handicap.

In stark contrast, I saw a decent eight with a real wide rack that was tailing some really lively does who may have been charged up by the lunar activity on the solstice. The doe were running wildly in all directions and the buck looked like he was trying to figure out how to coral one or two. All of the deer eventually ran off into another zone with the buck on their heels.

I tracked him down with some uncanny intuition and luck to find him bedding in the middle of an open field, chewing his cud. What astonished me was the fact that he didn’t jump. Instead, he remained perfectly calm as I proceeded to approach, circle, snap photos, and nearly harrass him as he continued to just chew his cud. He never moved. He only got up and left at dusk probably because he was done eating and hungry for more.

That NEVER happens with deer (never say never), especially with a buck. But low and behold. Then I thought back on a buck I saw in the same field in late summer who was allowing me to photograph him as he grazed the field. This time I was all decked out in camo and pretty obscured. But none the less was surprised by the bucks unusual comfort and candor. Apparently, that’s just his personality.

THE VIRTUAL EXHIBIT

2010-12-13T10:02:00.000-08:00

A number of people who missed my exhibit down at Water St. Coffee Joint, or missed an opportunity to purchase a print, wondered if I had the photos online.

Well, in the absence of a central website (it's in the works), I'm posting the entire show on my blog so people can see it and review it for potential Christmas gifts.

(Along these lines, any of the photos on my blog are available for purchase. Please refer to the sizes and prices listed in the side-bar to the right for those photos)

MATT CLYSDALE AT WATER STREET COFFEE JOINT

FOCUS ON THE MOMENT

Great Blue Heron - 15 X 24"

$75.00

THE COLOR OF WINTER

Cedar Waxwing - 6 x 10"

$10.00

THE ROAD TO EARLY AMERICA

Doe & Two Fawns - 10 x 18"

$40.00

DOE ON ORCHARD ROAD

Whitetail Doe - 16 x 22"

$50.00

THE COLONY COYOTE

Coyote - 10 x 18"

$30.00

IN THE SHADOWS

Red-Tailed Hawk - 16 x 22"

$65.00

HOVER

American Kestrel - 8 x 16"

$30.00

KING FOR A DAY

Kingfisher - 12 x 20"

$40.00

AUTUMN HARVEST

Black Capped Chickadee - 8 x 10"

$15.00

THE GUARDIAN

Osprey - 12 x 20"

$40.00

HARVEST

Tree Sparrow - 8 x 10

$20.00

BULLS-EYE

Killdeer - 10 x 14

$25

UPSIDE DOWN

White Breasted Nuthatch 8 x 10"

$15.00

THE VELVET CROWN

Whitetail Bucks - 12 X 18"

$45.00

All photographs are printed with archival inks on 100% cotton, archival paper.

To purchase prints, either use PayPal (in the right column) or make check out and send to:

HORSEPOWER PICTURES

579 Nazareth Rd.

Kalamazoo, MI 49048

NOTE: Include $5.00 for shipping/handling on all orders.

With either PayPal or mail-order, remember to identify the photo(s) and quantity you're ordering.

Questions can be directed to Matt Clysdale at

matthewclysdale@gmail.com

The Holy Buck

2010-12-01T14:05:00.000-08:00

BUCKS AMONG US

2010-11-22T09:25:00.000-08:00

Early November. This is the period of the rut when things get surreal.

When bucks show up in the strangest of places - in broad daylight.

Drawn by the lust to breed, bucks shadow does in heat, where ever it may take them.

Not unlike a dutiful guy tending his girl all the way to a woman's store at the mall.

The price we pay for love.

I noticed this buck tailing a doe in front of WMU's School of Engineering at daybreak on the 8th. It's possible the doe was grazing there for breakfast and got trapped by the sudden traffic of the day, or perhaps the buck had corralled her there for a private little tryst, away from other competing bucks.

The hunchbacked buck below was little threat because of a crippling wound from a previous year. It was a sad sight to see him limping around, driven by his own lust, hoping to get in on the action. He was a fine 10 point at one time and I'm sure quite a player when it came to the does. He was always a step behind the dominant but would limp away with little more than a stern look.

When traffic started to pick up, the doe and buck sought some temporary cover in the tall, landscaping grass. As it is with doe so often, she suddenly bolted out of the grass and high-tailed it out of the area for another quirky little island of cover basically in the middle of another field - also out in the open and next to traffic. Right behind her was the eager 8 point.

A GREAT GIFT

2010-11-22T08:08:00.001-08:00

Seasons Greetings,

Just a reminder that my wildlife photos at Water Street Coffee Joint (downtown location) are coming down this Saturday. So, if you’re looking for a unique, locally made gift, consider a fine art photograph of native wildlife to gift that special person in your life.

Prints range in price from $10 to $75, making it possible for just about anyone--even in this economy--to take a little bit of nature home with them.

Stop on in this week for a cup of coffee with chickadees, herons, bucks and coyotes.

Enjoy the last days of Autumn and the forthcoming Winter wonderland.
Happy Holy-days!

Matt Clysdale

WEBSITE for Water Street Coffee Joint

LOOKING UP

2010-11-20T15:41:00.000-08:00

When I'm chasing a buck--nose to the ground, so to speak--it's easy to fly by the rest of the forest, especially the canopy.

It's nice to stop and look up.

And then eat my lunch.

COMING INTO FOCUS

2010-11-16T12:05:00.000-08:00

Last summer I stumbled upon a very promising mature buck with an impressive rack (below). He was hanging with another bachelor who was literally and metaphorically out of focus for me; this beta buck's rack didn't have the same grandeur as our big buck in the foreground and consequently I never gave him any thought - until now.

After scores of days in the field, searching for that bigger buck, to this day, I still haven't had a single sighting. Instead, that blurry buck in the background has come to the fore and proven to be the Don Juan of the area. I've run into him about a half dozen times now, and nearly every single time he's been hot on a doe.

This first photo (above) was caught on the run when I saw him hound-dogging a doe group. The photo gave me a chance to study his rack and that's when I realized who he was - and pleased with the way his rack had grown out.

Given the way this buck has been ruling the roost, without any real competition--compounded by a sighting and reports of hunters (there's no hunting allowed in this area)--I'm starting to think the bigger buck got poached. Something I never, ever expected for the public property they live on in the city.

I can just hear the experts chuckling right now thinking he's just a wise and wary old buck, giving me the run around. Well, I'm not so sure. Unless his libido has expired, he should be courting or fighting for one of the many does in the area and making himself known.

I hope he proves me wrong.

In the meantime, this backup has proven to be a decent substitute. I can't complain.

THE RUT IS ON!

2010-11-07T18:59:00.001-08:00

AUTUMN PALETTE

2010-10-28T20:57:00.000-07:00

Another reason the Carolina Wren is a symbol of fall for me is because it's colors match the hues of late autumn: tans, browns, rust, and a splash of white for the early snows.

Oh, by the way, this little guy was photographed at the Southwest Michigan Land Conservancy's Bow In The Clouds nature preserve off Nazareth Road.

SIZING UP THE RACKS

2010-10-24T19:22:00.000-07:00

I scouted these bucks earlier in the season, looking for a bruiser I could follow for some prime photos. Not all bucks are worth following.

BROKEN

STUNTED

PERFECT

I'm keeping an eye on this guy.

THINGS ARE HEATING UP!

2010-10-20T06:57:00.000-07:00

You know the rut is right around the corner when you find your deer target decapitated and thrown down to the ground by an irascible buck in the middle of the night.

Bucks are revving up for the chance to breed a doe (the rut) and starting to challenge the local competition, even the fake ones! I had the same thing happen with a fake tom during turkey breeding season. He got pretty torn up as well.

Check out the bend in the stake that holds up the deer. That's almost a 45 degree bend in half inch steel. That's some serious fury!

YOU KNOW WHEN...THE CAROLINA WREN...

2010-10-18T09:11:00.000-07:00

In my experience, I know Autumn is peaking when I hear the clarion call of the Carolina Wren, slicing through the morning fog of a chilly, October morn.

Ever since I first heard, and filmed, my first Carolina Wren down at Kleinstuck Marsh, that piercing call has become the signature bird song for my favorite time of year. It serves as a life affirming siren when the air is still and the decay of Autumn lays down an eery silence.

In my wildlife doc, ANIMALS AMONG US, the little wren has a small but starring role in the big buck scene where I begin an obsessive quest for Karl, the alpha buck of Kleinstuck Marsh. He's in the opening part of the scene, setting the mood for Autumn's classic, ritual hunt for whitetail bucks.

Producing and editing a documentary has a way of etching sights and sounds into the memory banks, causing them to spontaneously surface in life and add meaning to a moment. Well, two days ago, the bold little Carolina Wren did just that, bringing all the fond memories and sensations from that indelible moment some six or seven years ago to the fore. Just like the scene in the film, he signals the beginning of a mad search for a massive rack, "worthy of a good shot". And just like the film, you'll be seeing, and hearing, more about my pursuit.

ME AND THE ANIMALS...

2010-10-04T17:57:00.000-07:00

...want to thank everyone who came out for the opening at Water Street last Friday. Your presence contributed to a steady stream of people flowing in and out of that beautifully tiny coffee joint. It all made for a good buzz, a lot of good will, and plenty of mini-reunions of friends and family.

(Unfortunately, there are no photos from the night of the "event" because we were too busy living in the moment)

I was personally thrilled to see photos that were living in my computer screen for months, if not years, finally hanging on the wall in front of satisfied eyes. The images seemed to pass the test: people REALLY liked them.

That's why I want, and need, to thank some others for my first wildlife photography exhibit: my parents for all their love and support; Kirsten Field for curating Water Street; Brent Spink for inspiration and insight into my new stomping ground, Schipper's Crossing; my dear friend Michele for supporting me in my craft; all the others who offered feedback and support; and of course, big thanks to the wildlife, the land, creation and the mysterious life force that crafted all these masterpieces I only mine with my lens.

YOU'RE INVITED...

2010-09-28T18:18:00.000-07:00

If you didn't get one of these cards in the mail, or pick one up around town, then I formally gift you with an invitation to my photography exhibit this Friday, in Kalamazoo Michigan.

This Friday is the infamous Art Hop for October in Kalamazoo, and this one proves to be insanely big and busy, with an emphasis on photography. There's a photographic conference going on at WMU this weekend, so photography is the buzz around town.

I'm personally thrilled to see my own work magically shape-shift from a digital image on screen to a real, tangible photograph, hanging on the wall. If you've been following my blog, and come to the show, you can also experience this transformation.

It's also a chance to purchase a framable print, at "just starting out" prices. So invest now, before inflation kicks in.

Nearly all the photographs were taken in and around Kalamazoo, except for two that were taken at Ottawa Marsh in the Allegan State Game Area. So these are our urbanm, animal neighbors, and there's a distinct possibility you my have seen one running, or flying, around town.

ROOKIE HUNTERS

2010-09-25T12:07:00.000-07:00

Driving around late summer and early fall, I always see more redtail hawks than usual, with the light chest glaring from a distance on a telephone pole or wire. Now that I know redtail behavior so intimately, I know full well these are the juveniles from this years brood striking out on their own, trying to earn a living. They're learning the ropes when it come to hunting.

As rookies, or novitiates, they don't have hunting down yet. That's why they perch in some of the oddest and most conspicuous spots. The bird above and below stuck out like a sore thumb right off East Michigan Ave, surveying a patch of mowed grass just outside the junk yard and unusually close to traffic. The juvies cluelessness is a photographers blessing because it means extreme approachability. Any adult redtail, in their right mind, will instantly fly if it senses you approaching within 100 yards. They can be a real challenge. Juvies, however, are a real gift.

The trade off to this easy photographic victory is the absence of the trademark, rust colored tail of the mature red-tail, as well as the less mottled chest. There is a graphic clarity to the adult redtail that makes it a more prized visual, much like the adult bald eagle compared to a juvenile. The adult is simply more beautiful.

What amuses me about the juvy red-tail though is how they remind me of myself when I first took up whitetail deer hunting, particularly with bow and arrow. When I first started, being relatively clueless as to deer behavior, movement, eating habits, and just how damn elusive they can be, I would plunk myself down in the middle of the woods, next to what looked like any old game trail, thinking right at dusk a deer would come sauntering along. Or I would sit a tree stand in a small tree in the middle of an open field, sticking out like a window washer on the side of a building, thinking I was invisible. It's amazing how far I've come. The same will be true for any juvy hawk that survives the passage into adulthood.

The driving force though can be hunger, sharpening the hunting skills as hunger zeros in on prey. All the crazy, trial, hunting zones (the ones that initially felt like a jack-pot) just don't bear any fruit, and any hawk (or hunter) with sufficient processing power, figures this out quickly and moves on. The same was true for me. The only difference being the absence of hunger. I would go home and simply open up the fridge. My learning curve was a tad slower than the hawks.

From The Wild to the Walls of Water Street

2010-08-15T18:38:00.000-07:00

I'm really excited to announce my exhibition of wildlife photos at Water Street Coffee Joint during the months of October and November.

Some of the photos seen in my blog, as well as many never seen before photos, will finally greet the public in my first exhibition of wildlife photographs. The show opens on the October Art Hop which happens to be Friday, October 1st, coincidentally the opening day of archery season for deer. Clearly my favorite time of year and I'm thrilled to finally share some of my photos with the public.

You'll be hearing more from me about the show as it approaches.

Gray Fox in Town

2010-08-06T19:31:00.001-07:00

Good News Downstream

2010-07-31T10:35:00.000-07:00

The good news downstream is that the oil hasn't reached our stretch of the River. The guy in white in the canoe was a City of Kalamazoo employee surveying the area Friday for evidence of the spill and fortunately the word out is - no oil - . Me and a couple friends concluded the same thing from our eye witness observation from the bridge at Michigan Avenue and Kings Highway.

Not a particularly comforting piece of news for the stretch upriver that's been saturated in crude, but from a bigger perspective, to contain the disaster to only that 25 mile stretch is significant. The health of the entire river, and connecting bodies of water--especially Lake Michigan--depends on it. Preserving other parts of the river will most likely help in the eventual recovery of the contaminated stretch. Wildlife and fish have some immediate places to escape to, and, in the long run, can eventually re-colonize the recovered portion of the river.

I'm skeptical that they can stop every ounce of oil, whether sheen or the thicker stuff, from making it's way downstream, but stopping the major flow means a lot to the health of the river, and us.

It makes me think of the expression, "everybody lives downstream". Indeed, we're just downstream, and thank God they know that upstream.

Something Smells

2010-07-30T19:46:00.000-07:00

I ventured east of Kalamazoo the other night to see the effects of the recent 1 million gallon spill of crude oil into Tallmadge Creek and the Kalamazoo River.

My first encounter with significant signs of oil on the river was in Battle Creek, and the first thing you notice is the powerful odor. Your body, instincts and experience tell you it's not a good smell. Fifteen minutes into it I became nauseous.

It reminded me of the foul stench you release when you kick up muck in a marsh.

Now imagine (there's some truth to this) that smell, comprised of aging, decaying matter, then compressed, distilled, and intensified by a thousand times, and you have the smell of crude. And here we are, as humans, drilling up this stuff that was sequestered in the earth for millions of years, safely removed from living systems, then trying to move it around in mass quantities so we can use it for so many facets of our lives. At some point it's bound to spring a leak.

Things have run amok.

Go See For Your Self

2010-07-30T09:10:00.000-07:00

I visited our contaminated river Thursday evening, and when I arrived at a point further upstream, closer to the source of the spill, the impact of this catastrophe was far more visible.

I was one of many on the 9th St. bridge, just Southeast of downtown Battle Creek, trying to absorb the situation.

And although I think we have the capacity to comprehend something from afar, through pictures and news, it wasn't until I saw firsthand the crude oil, spanning from bank to bank, flowing non-stop downstream, that I began to fully understand the severity of the situation. The first thing that came to mind was, "the river is f - - - ed! It really makes you want to do something.

When you see the thick, black, tarry stuff clinging to vegetation on the banks and all throughout the floodplain, you realize this is not going to just go away, and cleaning it up in it's entirety is impossible, it dawns on you how damaged the river truly is.

And this follows in the wake of the Kalamazoo River's sordid history with the paper mills and PCB contamination. After decades of negotiations, community input, legal wranglings, and various other human obstacles, we finally start making progress in the cleanup of PCBs, only to face another historic environmental catastrophe that once again puts us on the map for all the wrong reasons.

It really hits home when you experience it firsthand. Go see for yourself.

As I was leaving for the night, right around the corner from the bridge was none other than a BP gas station, an uncanny reminder that not only are the spills becoming far to common for comfort, but that we, as consumers and drivers, are the demand in the supply chain of crude that flows through our land and water.

How did I get to the bridge to observe the oil spill? I drove my car and burned some gas. How crude.

If The River Could Talk...

2010-07-29T21:31:00.001-07:00

...she would scream.

I visited the Kalamazoo River this evening near Battle Creek. It's not good.

More to come...

Monster Bucks Among Us

2010-07-25T11:19:00.000-07:00

Years of scouting, waiting and learning are finally starting to pay off.

All I'm going to say is, this buck is in the city limits.

Ottawa Marsh

2010-07-19T07:32:00.000-07:00

Spending most of my time and energy exploring the urban wild-scapes of Kalamazoo is of course a joy, but it's also a labor of love, a discipline. Restricting myself to the wild spaces of Kalamazoo has it's pros and cons; the pros being that it's conveniently right out my back door (so to speak) and it's also uncharted territory in the wildlife genre, representing the burgeoning phenomena of urban wildlife, endemic throughout America. The cons are that the wild spaces are always miniature compared to bigger preserves or wilderness and often degraded. In fact, sometimes depressing.

My explorations into Schippers Crossing, particularly the degraded parts, are more like a photo essay, trying to capture the beauties and tragedies of a landscape that we've deemed disposable. These "truths" can make for interesting material, from a photo-journalistic standpoint, but as soon as I put down my camera, the beauty and intrigue can quickly fade away. From the perspective of the naked eye, it's often a depressed and depressing landscape. There's garbage, garbage and more garbage, there are the casualties of clear-cuts, excavations, dumpings, and did I mention garbage. It's not always pretty, at least in the way we seek aesthetic solace from the natural world.

Now don't get me wrong, there are some real gems in the city, with real fine vistas that serve up generous sensations of the wild and solitude. But when I want to un-restrict myself to the city limits, and explore some truly vast and wild landscapes in the area, there is one place in particular that ranks real high on my list of favorites. It might even be the top of the list for Southwest Michigan. I'm talking about Ottawa Marsh, a marsh system branching off the Kalamazoo River in the Allegan State Game Area.

I recently ventured out into the Marsh on my birthday, as a present to myself. A brand new birthday kayak, allowed me to get some real nice shots both at dawn and dusk. What's intriguing and beautiful about the Marsh is that it's a bayou. In fact, one map (might have been Google Satellite) even listed it as a bayou. Although it technically fit's the definition, I--like so many others--always envision bayous in the South and the Gulf region. Low and behold, we have our own.

They're Out There...

2010-07-06T06:43:00.000-07:00

Finally, after traipsing about the woods of Schippers Crossing for nearly a year, evidence of some big bucks.

The antlers aren't fully grown yet, for the year, or perhaps for their age, but the potential is clearly there.

As you may have gathered by now, Schippers Crossing is sort of a new frontier, or wild west, for the quasi-urban wilderness of Kalamazoo, with lots of wild space and not a whole lot of rules. Hunting occurs - and with that comes pressure, ample pressure on the deer. Thus, either the bucks are killed or wary as all hell.

That's where the lackadaisical days of summer come into play, coaxing big bucks out into the open to graze in peace. They can sense the hunters absense; and the does don't drive bucks against each other. That's why they mill about in "bachelor packs", biding time for the annual ritual of the rut. I can hardly wait.

The only question is: will I see these same bucks in three months? We'll see...

2010-07-05T18:27:00.000-07:00

Summer Orchard Doe

2010-06-20T21:00:00.001-07:00

The EYES

2010-06-20T21:00:00.000-07:00

Father Blue Bird

2010-06-20T20:39:00.000-07:00

Although I don't have any kids, I like to say I'm the proud "father" of a successful, breeding, bluebird box, right in my own backyard.

The contemporary looking bird-box was made by none other than my Dad.

Thanks Dad! And happy Father's Day!

This is a tribute to my dad, the avid bird lover who gifted me the same passion, as well as the father bluebird, diligently and devotedly bringing home food for the two hungry chicks inside.

Although it looks as though he may selfishly be keeping that bright green grub for himself, he's actually trying to lure out the adolescent young birds whose time has come to fledge.

Happy Father's Day

2010-06-20T13:17:00.000-07:00

It all starts somewhere.

More Kestrel

2010-06-18T06:16:00.000-07:00

More Osprey

2010-06-08T19:07:00.001-07:00

Here's our Osprey taking off with his cargo in the old Georgia Pacific lot.

If the Osprey returned again this year to nest in the lot, I was going to name them Georgia and Pacific.

If you click on this photo and look closely, you'll see our Osprey has been banded.

This is a watched bird.

False Hopes for Osprey

2010-06-07T15:37:00.000-07:00

Cruising my neighborhood looking for red-tail hawks, I spied this Osprey dipping down into the old Georgia Pacific lot on E. Michigan Avenue, picking something up. My first thought was prey, but soon realized it was picking up sticks. It was a rare sighting and momentarily raised my hopes.

Drawing my camera, I snapped some prime photos as he/she flew almost directly overhead, perhaps checking me out.

I was hoping that it was repairing the nest on the telephone pole across the way for a forthcoming brood. Two Osprey settled in on top of that pole last year and become a local attraction, drawing periodic crowds right off Kings Highway.

But the nest has been vacant all Spring, making it highly unlikely the Osprey would be returning.

My hopes for a late nesting on the pole were dashed when the Osprey flew off in the opposite direction.

I'm guessing it has a nest further up stream, probably near Morrow Pond.

I had a feeling the Osprey would not return this year, or maybe ever, because of the constant onlookers gathering outside the fence only about 50 yards away. The give-away for me were the constant cries from the female, uneasy with the sudden traffic. And well meaning and excited fans thought the fence barrier kept them at a respectable distance. They also couldn't interpret the females anxiety coming from her cries.

What happened was the birds found the old Georgia Pacific lot to be an island of isolation, void of almost any foot traffic. The property was not only fenced off, but a no-man's land ever since the paper mill was razed years ago. Although the chosen telephone pole was next to Kings Highway, people would just drive on by.

Little did the Osprey know that they were setting the stage for a perfect drive-up viewing opportunity, like a drive in movie. Once people started seeing what they thought were eagles nesting right out in the open, cars started pulling over into the old driveway and checking out the widlife. It was perfect for us, but the Osprey's anonymity and isolation was completely blown. Despite all the sudden paparazzi, the Opsrey were committed to the location with three eggs.

The complications of that location were further compounded when a meth bust just east of the lot drew swarms of local media who were let into the old lot at the gate right next to the nest. The media and the gatekeepers were oblivious to the Osprey. The Osprey, however, were stressed.

That same day, a local township officer who'd been keeping an excited and close eye on the birds sadly found two of the fledglings dead at the foot of the pole. He later saw the parents and one successful fledgeling working the Kalamazoo River, which was only twenty yards away from the pole.

Why the two others died is still unclear, but one out of three is still a success story in my book.

I doubt we'll ever have the Osprey back in that zone again, but it was a rare treat for an amazing cross section of people to watch and appreciate. It's also an apt parable for the fleeting nature of good habitat. Urban wildlife, in particular, is always seeking that special zone, often dab smack in the middle of things, where no one ever goes. Then suddenly, a bulldozer enters the picture, or a path might emerge, or in this case, an animal blows it's own cover. Then, it's over.

Falcons

2010-05-28T09:22:00.001-07:00

I don't think this bird got as much attention as the yellow headed blackbird that was on a long layover at the Wolf Lake Fish Hatchery last month, but it certainly created a buzz.

It's one of the lesser known falcons - the Merlin. Smaller than the infamous and bulkier Peregrine, and slightly larger than the miniature Kestrel, the Merlin is also known as the pigeon hawk. This was a lifer for me.

There were actually two of them. And eyewitness accounts report attempts at breeding, raising the hopes of a resident pair. Unfortunately, no such luck. Merlins only frequent Michigan during migration and perhaps this inexperienced young couple were suffering from wander-lust.

The neat thing was that they were practicing being a couple and predictably residing in a big fir on the corner of Kenwood and Campbell in the Westwood neighborhood. Two avid bird watchers, Sue Weaver and Tim Tesar, live right across the street and were delighted to find this rare bird right outside their windows.

I was only able to get these so-so pictures on a cloudy evening. When I returned on a clear blue

eve, the birds had moved on, most likely north.

Roughly a week later, driving down East Michigan Avenue, my ever-searching eyes spotted an unfamiliar silhouette perched on a wire in front of Sergeant Energy. Thinking it might be the Merlin, I pulled over, only to spook the bird over towards McKenzie Bakery where I managed to track it down and discover it was another falcon, the Kestrel.

Cool.

He was eyeing the ground for unsuspecting prey. And had it not been for me and my ridiculously large lens aimed at the bird, probably not a soul (except for another birder) would have noticed this animal living among us.

I recently found one of these guys hunting over at the BTR Park just off Parkview Avenue.

Well within their territorial range, Kestrels are relatively common in Michigan, particularly the country. Their signature hunting behavior is to hover in one spot over open country, rapidly beating their wings, as they zero-in on prey, and eventually dive bomb for a kill. You can't mistake it.

More and more common to the city-scape is the Peregrine Falcon, nesting atop sky scrapers and hunting the cliffs and canyons of big cities.

They're spotted periodically in downtown Kalamazoo. I personally witnessed one in town last year, atop the SkyRise building on Burdick Avenue.

It may have been one of the off-spring of the nesting pair in Grand Rapids, or perhaps Detroit, looking for a home. The question is whether Kalamazoo is big enough for a Peregrine. Although I personally like to think of Kalamazoo as a small city, this one time I hope we're "big" enough for a Peregrine.

Perhaps if we're lucky, they'll build a nest on Peregrine Towers, down on the Kalamazoo Mall.

Tallamy DVD's Have Arrived!

2010-05-15T08:03:00.001-07:00

If you've ever been up in a jet, flying over the land, looking down on the patchwork quilt of crazyness down below, and wondered what on Earth is this doing to wildlife and habitat, then you need to see this video.

GARDENING FOR LIFE is a DVD of a presentation by Douglas Tallamy, award winning author of Bringing Nature Home, on how we can actually play a part in the restoration of habitat for insects, birds and wildlife by gardening with native plants. It's nothing short of a micro-revolution in landscaping.

The Wild Ones of Kalamazoo contracted HorsePower Pictures to document Tallamy's presentation at an all day conference produced by Wild Ones at the Kalamazoo Nature Center in 2008. The DVD includes the panel discussion that followed Tallamy's presentation. The panel features Steve Malcolm, chemical ecologist at Western Michigan University, Tracey Kast from Kellogg Biological Station, and Tom & Nancy Small of the Kalamazoo Area Wild Ones.

"Douglas Tallamy maintains that our nation lacks enough habitat to support its present diversity of native plants and animals. If we want to preserve our wildlife we must change the way we landscape our yards. We must replace our vast lawns and non-native ornamentals with the native plants that plant-eating insects such as caterpillars greatly prefer. Why? Because these insects perform the crucial task of transferring the sun’s energy up the food web to other creatures, including birds.

In GARDENING FOR LIFE, Tallamy brings his funny, informative and engaging power-point presentation to a Southwest Michigan audience. Whether you’re a novice or veteran to native gardening, GARDENING FOR LIFE is sure to enlighten and inspire."

If you're interested in a copy of the DVD, contact the Kalamazoo Chapter of Wild Ones. The video will also be broadcast on Public Media Network in the Fall of 2010.

That Which is Rare is Exotic

2010-05-05T08:06:00.000-07:00

This is a bird that sent tremors throughout the Southern Michigan rare bird alerts.

If you look at a range map for the yellow headed blackbird, you'll see that Michigan doesn't seem to suit their fancy. They just don't venture over this way. So why exactly this wayward male braved it's way over to the Wolf Lake Fish Hatchery on M43, will forever remain a mystery.

But aren't we lucky.

There is something tropical about this bird. Something that rekindles an expanding sense of awe for the fauna of North America. Something that reminds me that what we have here in the U.S. is equally as compelling as anywhere else in the world. No need to venture to the tropics; no need to go on a safari to Africa (although I wouldn't pass either one of those up if I had the chance). The splendor of it all is right here in the palm of the planet: Michigan - especially when we're lucky enough to have a "stranger" come to town.

MORE ROOKERY

2010-04-25T10:14:00.000-07:00

The Glenn Allen Island Rookery

2010-04-24T11:03:00.000-07:00

If you're a word-lover like myself, you can fully appreciate the bevy of nomenclature to describe birds and other wildlife: a gathering of crows is a "murder"; a group of geese not in flight is a "gaggle" - in flight is a "skein"; a male fox is known as a "dog-fox", or "renard"; and lastly, a colony of breeding animals is known as a "rookery". Unbeknownst to many people, great blue herons breed in groups, making their breeding site a heron rookery (The term Rookery has also been used as a name for dense slum housing in nineteenth-century cities, especially London).

A heron rookery is a sight to behold.

One great jewel on the city stretch of the Kalamazoo River, and virtually around the corner from my house, is the heron rookery on Glenn Allen Island, a property now in the care of the South West Michigan Land Conservancy.

My neighbor and painter friend, Brent Spink, recently sprung an invitation on me to join him on an outing to make art of the rookery. He painted the scene and I rattled off hundreds of photos.

After the logistics of planting cars, we journeyed by canoe to a shore opposite the island. That brief jaunt on the river is always a step back in time, and a quick remedy for city-speed anxieties.

The rookery and the heron themselves are always a prehistoric image, the great blue evoking the distant and extinct pterodactyl and the rookery being perhaps the closest living example of Lothlorien, or the home of the Na’vi. The scattering of huge nests sit atop a holy looking sycamore, standing out in stark contrast against the gray bark of the other trees in early spring bloom.

If you get a chance, while paddling down the River, just past the bridge at Mosel, about where Allen St. “T”s into North Pitcher, take a right at the fork in the river and you’ll go around the east side of the island. At the north-east end of the island you’ll see a “scattering”, a “sedge” or “seige” of herons taking to the sky as your presence spooks them off their roost.

View Larger Map

OMG - My First Tom!!!

2010-04-23T12:56:00.000-07:00

A picture is worth a 1,000 words - but believe me, there is a lot more to say about this absolutely bizarre but totally ubiquitous creature.

More to come...

Incidentally, this guy was at none other than the Colony Farm Orchard.

HOME AT LAST, HOME AT LAST

2010-04-09T06:05:00.000-07:00

NOTE: The following post is the follow up to "In Search of Home" , an earlier post about my search for a new home with it's own "little piece of the wild".

In my long standing tradition to time significant life changes with significant dates, I moved into my new home one year ago, on April 15th, Tax Day. In my mind, owning a new home and Tax Day go together, in a fiscal kind of way. It's about owning something significant and the government wanting you to pay for owning it. I could digress...

More importantly though, I've not only been in my own, new home, I've been romping around in my new "ecos", or home outside my home. I got what I wanted with an entirely new wild space to explore and study, and inspire a new body of work. Since day one, when I dove into this crazy little frontier on the outskirts of town, I've been so wrapped up in trying to photograph the local fauna of this little Ark, that I haven't taken the time to surface and reflect on my move.

Welcome to what we'll call Schipper's Crossing.

How did I get here?

To quote myself:

"Like a river winding it's way towards it's final destintaion, I was twisting and turning with constant compromise. The biggest compromise to emerge was the quality of habitat. Perhaps a slightly degraded piece of land, or perhaps an adjacent piece of property that wasn't exactly a designated preserve could satisfy my wilderness fix, while keeping the price of a house sufficiently down. This is the bend in the river when the nuclear power plant starts to become kind of charming and picturesque."

Before I moved in, I had a fairly serious "compromise" to weigh: the little manufactured home I was considering was adjacent to a wild space the city of Kalamazoo owns but also used portions of it two decades ago as a dumping ground, raising serious questions about contamination. What they were dumping was a medley of waste no one really wanted--for good reason--including dredgings from the Kalamazoo River and sludge from the city's waste processing facility. Yes, human waste.

The very thought could drive down housing prices. Well, this was twenty years ago and the Earth's capacity for remediation has composted the smell entirely away; quick growing trees and shrub have taken root and aside from the "un-natural" mound shape underneath these patches of habitat, one might not even recognize the human footprint.

This is all true today because of a massive eruption of protest that emerged out of the Eastside and Eastwood neighborhoods demanding the city to stop dumping. The stink was SO bad, residents (some otherwise a-political) took to the streets and marched on Kalamazoo City Hall in the thousands, successfully bringin the whole operation to a halt - not without the added pressure of a lawsuit against the city. This apparent loss for the city actually qualified Kalamazoo for new federal funds that paid for the present day sewage treatment facility on the Kalamazoo River between Patterson and Mosel. Things have since been relatively quiet, and, how do you say: un-stinky?

But, what you can't see or smell can still kill you. Was there contamination in them thar hills? I was on city water, piped in from afar, so I wasn't concerned about a contaminated well; but what about air-borne particulates, floating into my molecular world and giving rise to cancer? What if I were to hike around in that area and expose myself to higher levels of arsenic, PCB's, or whatever. I'm not a chemist or environmental scientist and really didn't know. Friends and family were vigorously waving red flags.

So, I took it upon myself to research the property at the local DEQ on D Avenue and couldn't find any serious warnings in previously classified folders. I also discovered the company that performed an environmental assessment on the property and ended up speaking with a guy who actually did the foot work on the case and he assured me that any of my future children wouldn't have an excess of ten toes. That guy turned out to be a new friend who's also a nature photographer: Steve Kimm.

TO BE CONTINUED...

SOON THIS WEEK