Moose Archives ~ Rambling ranger

March 17, 2023

Nature Photography — My Road Most Traveled

I’m a nature photographer. It’s what I do. I go wild for my photography.

Yellowstone National Park — I go wild for photography!

John of Journeys With Johnbo chose this week’s Lens-Artists Photography Challenge, “The Road Most Traveled”. He asks us to showcase whatever style of photography is our go-to, our favorite, our road most traveled.

I don’t think I can define a particular style as my go-to, but I can definitely define a genre. I do nature photography – to the almost total exclusion of any other kind of photography.

Nature photography in Denali National Park. — Nature photography is my genre.

I guess that makes me a bit of a one-dimensional character. Especially since being wild is almost a prerequisite for a photo of mine. Domestic flowers don’t really interest me. I have plenty of opportunities to do pet photography, being a petsitter and all, but I seldom make pictures of my charges. I also have the opportunity to stay in some lovely homes while petsitting. But I rarely take photos of these houses. There are very few farm or country landscapes in my files, and never a cityscape. Like I said, pretty one-dimensional.

Point Lobos State Park, CA — Point Lobos, California

It’s not that I don’t appreciate other types of photography. Most folks have broader interests than mine. Architecture, travel, food, portraits, street photography – I admire what other people are doing in those genres. I enjoy seeing these things through their eyes. I just don’t feel inspired to go there myself.

But if it’s wild – then my interest is limitless. Desert, mountains, seashore, I love them all. Grand vistas to teeny tiny details. Animals, plants, water, rock – I can’t get enough of them. Macro to wide-angle to zooming in, black and white, color and monochrome – all tools and techniques that help me to express my greatest love, the natural world.

Nature photography in Anza Borrego State Park, CA — Plants, animals, waters, mountains – I love them all.

There is one genre of photography that I rather regret not doing my whole life, and that’s people photography, taking pictures of friends and loved ones. I’ve photographed a few friends’ weddings, and taken pictures at 4th of July parades and a few musical events, but that’s it. I have very few photos of friends and family just enjoying life.

Coachwhip Canyon, Anza Borrego State Park — I love it when viewers can visually or mentally “walk into” one of my images.

I do understand why I don’t have many people pictures. I only take people pictures at events where my role is one of an observer more than a participant. When I’m with friends and family, I want to be totally present. Those moments are precious to me. I want to be a participant, not an observer. For me, taking pictures at that time would remove me from living in the joy of the present moment. I would be concentrating on taking a good picture instead. Weird, I know.

Moose in Wrangell-St. Elias National Park & Preserve — Have you ever seen a big moose hide behind a skinny little tree? I caught this one in the act – in my front yard!

I’m certainly glad others don’t feel that way. I am eternally grateful to the friends and family who do document those moments. You know who you are, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart. The older I get the more precious those people pictures are.

Jedidiah Smith Redwoods State Park, CA — Nature photography is my way of telling these beings,
“I see you. I honor you. Thank you for being.”

As I ponder the role photography plays in my life, I realize it’s a tool to further what seems to be my mission in life, my vocation and my avocation. In my photography, my writing, and my work as a ranger, I seem to be pursuing the same goals – turning people on to what makes a place or a subject special and unique, and encouraging others to be kind to our Mother the Earth. It’s what I do.

Matanuska Peak — Nature photography is one way I turn people on to what makes a place special and unique.

I attempt to capture a scene or a subject in such a way that a viewer can visually and mentally walk into that place themselves, to feel like they could be there even if they’ve never seen it in person. When I know I’ve done that, I feel successful as a photographer.

Nature photography is a meditation for me. It’s how I give praise to Creation. I acknowledge the other beings I share this planet with, both animate and inanimate, by practicing the art of seeing. Focusing my total concentration on a subject or a scene is a way of saying to those beings, “I see you. I honor you. Thank you for being.” I try to capture just a little of the essence of my subject. What makes that being or that landscape essential.

Redwoods National Park — Trying to capture the essence of my subject – rain forest sparkle party!

If others can discover just a little of that essence through my nature photography, then hopefully they too will acknowledge that that thing or that place is unique and essential. Perhaps they will feel inspired to care for it and keep it safe.

Monterey Bay nature photography — Hopefully my images bring a smile to your face!

If my images occasionally fill my viewers with awe for the wonders of the natural world, that makes me proud of a job well done. Or maybe my nature photography will just bring a smile to their faces or a warm feeling in their hearts. That’s a worthy goal, too.

Trillium, Jedediah Smith Redwoods State Park — I do love making wildflower images!

I hope you’ve enjoyed my musings on the art of nature photography. But I hope you enjoy my images of Nature even more.

Emulating Ansel Adams – Headwaters of the Susitna River, with Mounts Deborah and Hayes

November 18, 2022November 19, 2022

Neighbors

OK, I’m back. It’s been a while since I wrote a post, more than six months. My Mom passed away and then life got really busy. I needed time to grieve. Something had to give, and with the internet connection challenges of my remote rural Alaska home, it was the blog. But I’m back now, and I wanted to mention a few of my neighbors, who I can always count on to bring a smile to my face.

I’m not talking about just my human neighbors, although they, too, can be counted on to bring a smile to my face. I’m not the only one who’s gotten busier lately. We seldom have time to visit anymore.

I see a lot more of my other neighbors, the wild ones. They visit often. Some of them are practically roommates, like the porcupine who moved in under the house in the spring of 2020, when I was a little late getting back home to Alaska due to Covid. I had to evict that squatter. He was a bad roommate. He chewed up the hose connecting my propane tank to the house.

Pine Grosbeak — Songbirds bring joy to my life.

Some neighbors are always welcome. My favorites are the songbirds. Waking up to their songs brings joy to my life daily.

Another species that I see often in the fall is the spruce grouse. It’s a mystery. I don’t understand it. These birds don’t migrate. They live here year-round. Yet they’re everywhere in the fall, but you NEVER see them in the spring and summer. Where are they? It is a mystery.

The snowshoe hares go through big population boom and busts, too. It’s about an 11-year cycle. Some years you are practically tripping on them, there are so many. Then the population crashes and you can go a whole summer and maybe see one.

Some neighbors can be obnoxious. I’m talking about tree rats, aka squirrels. They have no conception of private property and will trash your house and steal your insulation to use in their own home. Obnoxious. So I was really glad to see a new addition to my neighborhood this fall, a pine martin. He’ll clean out those pesky squirrels!

Another neighbor I’m usually happy to see is the moose. They’re good at teaching ME that lesson about private property. The lesson that there is no such thing. My land belongs to them, too. I hate to have them visit when they are intent on eating the garden or chowing down on that going-to-be oh-so-photogenic patch of head-high fireweed blossoms that would perfectly set off my best view, the day before they would flower.

Black Bear Cubs — Cute, but stay outta my yard!

Then there’s the neighbor that Alaska is famous for, the one I am much happier NOT seeing in my yard. Ever. Bears. I could see either black bear or grizzlies in my neighborhood, although thank goodness not as often as I saw them when I was renting a house in the middle of a soapberry patch. But you have to always be aware, every single time you walk out the door, that they could be there, maybe just around the corner. I mean, I’m glad I live in a place where I can still run into a bear on Main Street, as I did this summer in Kennecott. But I hope they stay away from my house!

I have another new neighbor in the ‘hood, down in McCarthy town, in Clear Creek, where I get my water. We are getting a few, though I wouldn’t call it a run yet, red salmon now coming up Clear Creek. We’ve had an October run of silver salmon for a long time, but the reds have only started showing up the last few years, in August.

It’s because of the dynamic landscape we live in, constantly changing and changing ever more quickly these days due to the glacial retreat caused by global climate change. The hydrological changes in the town of McCarthy are especially striking. Land that was forest when I first moved here is now wetland. The little pond at the toe of the glacier is now a big lake. These changes have made the area more attractive for some creatures, like beaver and salmon, but caused some big challenges for us, the human residents.

Dall's Sheep above Chitina — Dall’s Sheep above Chitina

There are other neighbors living a little farther away, but still in what I would consider the neighborhood. These friends I don’t see as often maybe but enjoy whenever I get the chance. There’s that family of swans in the Chokosna ponds area. It’s always nice to catch up with them, and see how many cygnets they’re raising this year. I might see the occasional bald eagle, or rarer still, a glimpse of Dall’s Sheep in the Crystalline Hills or up above the town of Chitina. Maybe I’ll see a lynx along the McCarthy Road, or a weasel in Kennecott. I’m glad to live in a community with so many wonderful neighbors!

Thanks to Anne of Slow Shutter Speed for this week’s Lens-Artist Photography Challenge, “Wildlife Close To Home”.

February 19, 2021February 19, 2021

A Glimpse Into My World – Chill

These days my world is pretty chill. As in –

Chill

1. an unpleasant feeling of coldness in the atmosphere, one’s surroundings, or the body: “there was a chill in the air” synonyms coldness, chilliness, coolness, iciness, crispness,…more

After all, I AM in Alaska this winter. Due to concerns about corona virus and civil unrest I consciously chose to stay here, even though I’ve really come to hate the cold and fear the ice.

It hasn’t been an easy winter. One challenge after another. But I don’t think I made the wrong choice. My concerns were very real. It was a conscious, well-thought-out decision.

There are three ways wild animals deal with winter’s cold – adapt, endure or avoid. I’ve TRIED to embrace the cold. To adapt. Really, I have. But I find I’m just enduring much of the time.

I have avoided winter for the last dozen or so years the same way some birds do, through flight. Call me a snowbird, I don’t care. I paid my dues. Ten winters in Alaska, five of them hauling wood and water for survival in McCarthy. And another fifteen or so in the mountains of Colorado. I’ve simply had my fill.

Palmer, Alaska — Alpenglow on Matanuska Peak

Another way to avoid winter is through hibernation. I’m doing a little of that this winter. Not the sleeping all the time, but I rarely go out and about. I’m definitely more interior-focused. Which brings me to another definition of

Chill

2. A versatile slang word that means calm, relaxed, easy-going, or cool, as well as a hang out. Other definitions of Chill: When used to describe a person, place, or thing, typically means relaxed or level-headed, with no ill intentions. Can be a verb that means to “relax or hang out” together.

It took me a while to really land this year. I knew where I wanted to be when I left McCarthy in October, but for various reasons, the housing situation did not gel until January. But I am FINALLY settled for the winter in Palmer.

Palmer lies in a great glacial river valley right at the base of the Chugach Mountains, which means I have the vertical topography I need and love, but the roads are mostly flat and easier for me to negotiate when they get icy. It means I can stay here warm typing this post while watching the alpenglow on the mountain in my backyard.

I’ve been very introspective lately. I am spending a lot of time learning this winter, and many hours are spent processing images and writing. I spend a lot of time thinking as I contemplate where and how I will move forward into the next chapter of my life.

I’m also spending a lot of time hanging out with an old friend. The last few winters I’ve lived a solitary lifestyle, traveling and housesitting. I visited a lot of friends in my travels but didn’t stay in any one place for too long, or spend much time with any one person.

It’s been rather serendipitous, my hanging out in Palmer for a winter. I’ve been able to help my friend out after a recent surgery and also just be there for her when needed for emotional support. SAD syndrome is real, and sometimes a person just needs company.

Cow moose — Hanging out with one of the neighbors

So even though the challenges continue (this week I had to throw down nearly a thousand bucks to repair my poor little desert truck, who hates the cold even more than I do), and even though the Alaska winter is more than just chilly – it’s searingly, bitingly cold – I’m feeling pretty chill about my life right now. I’m feeling I’m in a good place.

Sometimes you just need to chill.

Thank you, Sheetal Bravon of Sheetalthinksaloud, for this week’s Lens-Artists Photo Challenge, “Glimpse Into Your World”.

December 11, 2020December 12, 2020

Amazing Alaskan Animals

For this week’s Lens Artists Photo Challenge, Patti of the Pilotfish blog chose “things that begin with the letter A”. Alaska, where I live. Arizona, where I sometimes play. Anza-Borrego, Arches National Park…. so many choices.

Denali National Park — Porcupines are kinda pokey, in more than one way – so – sadly, they’re also known as Alaska’s #1 roadkill animal.

As I pondered my choices, I heard thundering hooves charge right by my window. I dashed to the door to see what it was all about, and watched a dog chase a big bull moose through the fields into the woods behind the house.

That’s not necessarily an uncommon sight where I live, but it would be unusual for most folks. So it came to me – what about Alaskan animals? That would be a worthy “A” subject! Better yet, how about amazing Alaskan animals?

After all, Alaska is synonymous with animals to a lot of folks. So I thought I would share a few photos of animals often seen in The Great Land yet rather rare in most other places (with the exception of Canada, of course.)

After all, one of the best places to see wildlife in the entire state is Denali National Park, and I was a park ranger there for 2 summers. I must have a few photos on file…

Sometimes I even have stories to go with the pictures – for instance, this wolf. That day I was leading some visitors on a Discovery hike in the Stoney Hill region. We had just gotten off the bus and I had barely started into my orientation talk when I saw him coming. I told my visitors to stand together and be real quiet, and they would soon see something really special. He passed us less than 50 yards away. After this super cool experience, to start our hike, I asked each visitor to share their most memorable wilderness experience. I do this to gauge just how tough a hike the visitors will be comfortable with. The first woman I asked, jaw still dropped in wonder, replied, “It just happened.” Everyone on the trip agreed.

Another story is about this little marmot. He was up at the Eielson Visitor Center. At first, all you could see were his legs, standing upright under the frame of the bus. He looked like a mini-mechanic, hard at work fixing something down there. What he was actually doing was probably making more work for real mechanics, eating salt from the dust abatement chemicals they spray on the road off the undercarriage. Sometimes the rodents will eat holes in the hoses in their quest for the tasty treat. About a week later, rangers reported a Hoary Marmot at Wonder Lake. Wonder Lake is forest habitat, not the alpine tundra that marmots normally live in. This little guy had stowed away under the bus and ended up in a strange new land! He was eventually trapped and returned to his home territory.

If I were to reincarnate as an animal, I think I would choose a marmot. After all, they live in the most sublime landscapes, above the treeline in alpine tundra, my favorite place. They’re fat and happy, eat flowers, play all summer and sleep all winter. For a rodent, they don’t have too many predators. They just have to keep an especially keen eye out for Golden Eagles.

But they’re not my totem animal. Everyone tells me my totem animal is the bear. We’re built the same, and I have this weird bear magnetism, which has given me a lot of bear tales – too many for this post. Besides, if you’ve ever been to Alaska, you probably have your own tales to tell – about those amazing Alaskan animals!

October 4, 2019October 4, 2019

Autumn is the Time for Love – If You Have Antlers

Autumn is my favorite time of year to visit the big, iconic national parks that adorn the crest of the Rockies – Glacier, Yellowstone, Grand Teton and Rocky Mountain. Fat and happy after a fruitful summer, with sleek new winter coats, this is the prime time of year for most animals.

Bighorn Sheep in Rocky Mountain National Park — Moose and elk aren’t the only animals you might see!

I love the beauty of the golden aspens, accented by fresh snow on the high peaks and cerulean blue skies. I love the crisp clean feel of the mountain breezes and the gurgling music of the dancing creeks. But most of all, I love listening to the elk sing.

From the time the shadows fall over the valleys until just after sunrise, the herds hang out in the big meadows in these national parks, a perfect setting for the upcoming wilderness drama.

Bull Moose Grand Teton National park — The moose are calling.

The elk are bugling. The moose are calling. It’s the rut, mating season for ungulates. Challenges are issued, battles fought. If you’re lucky, you just might get a chance to witness the pageant.

The biggest bull elk gather harems, whole herds of cows, and take on all challenges for the exclusive right to mate. The cows are not always willing to be corralled, though. This keeps the bull pretty busy.

Sometimes, while the dominant bull is otherwise occupied either battling a challenger or herding a recalcitrant cow, some sneaky upstart might grab the opportunity to sneak in a quickie. All this makes for some very entertaining wildlife watching.

Cow elk grazing in Yellowstone National Park — It’s nice just to watch the elk being elk.

If you plan on visiting the Rocky Mountain national parks during the rut, here are a few things to keep in mind:

1) GIVE THEM SOME SPACE!!! Have a little respect. Remember that wild animals are dangerous. Especially at this time of year, when too much testosterone has these guys feeling really combative. And they’re a lot bigger than you are. Bull moose have been known to charge freight trains. A woman was gored by a bull elk in Estes Park just last week.

Testy bull elk in Rocky Mountain National Park — Don’t mess with this guy – he’ll kick your ass!

Although these animals are not fearful because they’re not hunted within national park boundaries, they are not tame. This is not a zoo. There is no invisible fence or moat in between you and the animal if they decide you’ve gotten on their last nerve. I see more ignorant, oblivious people out there every year. Do not approach wildlife. Give them a break and give them their space!

Mule Deer stag crossing road in Rocky Mountain National Park — Wildlife crossing – Be aware!

2) Drive slow. You will be more likely to see animals camouflaged by their surroundings. More importantly, you’ll be less likely to hit an animal unexpectantly crashing out onto the road during this low light time of day. You’ll be more likely to notice an animal about to cross, affording better chances to catch that lucky shot.

Close-up of elk calf in Rocky Mountain National Park — I got this shot by using my car as a blind.

3) Your car can make a great blind. If the wildlife is on or near the road, stay in your car. Don’t stress the animal and endanger your safety. See # 1.

Man approaching elk way too closely in Yellowstone National Park — Don’t be like this guy – Back off!

4) Timing is important. You have to meet them where (and when) they are. The early bird catches the worm, or the shot, here. When the sun is out, elk fade into the forest or bed down in the tall grass. All the action happens in the evening and early morning hours.

Elk in Glacier National Park — Calves play at jousting while a bull looks on.

5) Arrive early, stay late. There is more to be gained from this experience than just a few photos. Watch. Listen. Don’t interfere. Stay a little longer. It will be medicine for your soul.

Bull elk in Rocky Mountain National Park

Want to hear the elk bugling but you’re nowhere near the Rockies? Check out these videos on The Nature Conservancy’s blog, Weird Green Science.

August 9, 2018

Good Lord Willin’ and the Creek Don’t Rise (The View From My Front Porch Part II))

Fireweed Mountain, Wrangell St. Elias National Park

McCarthy Creek is flooding. I may be stranded here at home for a while.

Earlier this spring I had the opposite problem. I couldn’t GET home. Early winter cold temperatures with no snow cover, coupled with a late spring, caused the ground to freeze hard & deep, leading to a humongous lake in the low spot on my road. It was so deep my neighbors called it Lake Michigan. Just to keep things interesting, there were seven new trees down on my foot trail, too.

Even after the ground finally thawed and the lake drained, it was solstice before I could finally drive my ATV home. I had to wait for the road to dry and firm up so I wouldn’t turn it into a permanent bog. At least I was able to get the trees cleared so I could hike in.

Last spring access was difficult, too. A freak windstorm after days and days of heavy rain the previous fall had downed whole GROVES of aspens. Friends helped me clear my road after the storm, but I never got around to even looking at the foot trail.

Blocked trail — One of the trees down on my trail

When I came in that spring, there was a lake in the road, although it was much smaller than this year’s and only lasted a couple of weeks. When I went to try my trail, the dozens of blown down trees were piled ten to fifteen feet high, stacked like pixie sticks. On top of all that, I had a sprained ankle from slipping on the ice. Ahh, breakup! ‘Shwacking through the woods to get home that spring was NOT fun!

I had another interesting challenge that spring. Like a lot of folks who live off the grid in Alaska, I have a “cold hole” for refrigeration. This is a mini-root cellar constructed of three fifty-five gallon drums with the ends cut out, stacked together and buried. Things stay real cold and it had worked well for years. But that spring, ground pressure from either ice or a rising water table started warping the barrels. You know that scene in Star Wars when Luke, Han, Princess Leia and the Wookie start to get crushed in the trash compactor? It was like that. My bottom cooler got completely wedged. Folks that I had come by and look at it to give me advice just looked down and shook their heads. It was such a ridiculous “only in the bush” kind of problem that it was actually rather humorous. But it was still a problem.

There’s a reason they call living out here the do-it-the-hard-way club.

I don’t have a garden. I’m overwhelmed enough with my house project. I don’t have time for one yet, especially in a year like this one. But I do have a wild garden – a combination fireweed/rose garden/raspberry patch. I encourage certain plants that grow here naturally by spreading a few random seeds in the fall.

It was starting to look pretty good. Most years the fireweed is taller than I am, and the raspberries had really taken off.

Then the moose discovered my garden. It started about 2 years ago – I came home from work one day and all those five-foot high fireweed blossoms had disappeared. I was astounded.

Last year I caught her in the act, a mama with 2 babies. I watched her mow down my flowers and cringed as the whole family tore into the two tiny birch trees I had been so carefully nurturing, the only plants I had actually transplanted onto my land. What was I to do? I sure wasn’t going to mess around with a mama moose!

Then I woke up this morning to a moose in my raspberry patch. No-o-o! Stick to the fireweed! I had to go stand on my porch and tell her she needed to share. She wasn’t so sure about that, but since I wouldn’t go away, she eventually ambled off to the other side of the house.

I think she might be one of last year’s calves. She looks young, possibly a yearling. I’m resigned to losing the fireweed, but the raspberries? No fair! I didn’t even know moose LIKED raspberries until today! As soon as she left, I went out to pick what was left before she came back.

So why do I put up with it? Why deal with all the hardship? Why not go somewhere with the basic comforts of life, like electricity and running water?

Well, I like watching my neighbors the moose, even though I don’t want to share my raspberries with them. I like waking up to the birds singing and greeting the bunnies hopping around my front yard.

As a former Colorado girl, owning an aspen-filled ridge is truly living the dream. How did I ever get so lucky?

I like lying back on a mossy hill, surrounded by lovely lichens and low-bush cranberries. I like living in a land full of kind, courageous, happy, amazing people, that it is a privilege and a pleasure to call my friends and neighbors. I like looking out at one of the most sublime views on the planet. Living here, I feel like every day, as I gaze out at the view from my front porch, I hear the angels sing.

Is living here the do-it-the-hard-way club? Most certainly. Is it worth it? Absolutely!

Tag: Moose

Nature Photography — My Road Most Traveled

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Neighbors

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A Glimpse Into My World – Chill

Chill

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Amazing Alaskan Animals

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Autumn is the Time for Love – If You Have Antlers

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Good Lord Willin’ and the Creek Don’t Rise (The View From My Front Porch Part II))

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Chill

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