Sometimes you think you’ve missed the “perfect shot” when, really, you’ve already captured it. Today, vacation day #3, I was visiting Hinckley Lake. I’d not been to the lake in some time and thought I should check in. I came across a Great Blue Heron fishing in the shallows. Just as I got into position to shoot some stills of the big bird, it leaped into the air! I began firing the shutter. I don’t think the bird took flight because of me… I believe it was pursuing another heron fishing around the shoreline from where I was standing. Soon the two birds were charging out over the lake, one after the other and I got what I’d hoped would be the best pictures of the day. I was mistaken. As I was photographing the first bird early in its pursuit, I recorded a couple of images that later surprised me. In my favorite, the heron is banking whilst flying so low to the lake surface a wingtip dragged briefly in the water kicking up a wake! In the second shot (technically made earlier) the Great Blue is stretched out in flight while below, shore birds work for a living on a sandbar. All-in-all a great morning at the lake.
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It was an interesting Sunday. This morning we viewed the “Rembrandt in America” exhibit showing at the Cleveland Museum of Art. It’s amazing how good some 300+ year-old paintings can look! The exhibit also shows what can happen when a great artist becomes commercially successful in his own time. Works by or contributed to by Rembrandt’s workshop staff, students, and others can be and often have been attributed to the artist himself. The years and the treatment of the paintings by their successive owners have had huge influences upon what we see today. So what does “a Rembrandt” look like? Well… I know what some of them look like but left the show knowing that looks can be deceiving.
After lunch we went home, changed to suitable clothes, and headed to Hinckley Lake to take advantage of the bright and warm (now 78 degrees F) afternoon. I carried about 20 pounds of DSLR camera gear. She Who Must Be Obeyed carried her new, lightweight Canon one-piece camera with an extraordinary built-in zoom that can range from macro to 800 mm equivalent telephoto! Walking along we merrily shot photos of flowers and plants, water and bark. Then I spotted a big, dark bullfrog resting upon a piece of wood at water’s edge. A few photos. Then She said, “look!” I looked where she was pointing and, to my surprise, saw a nice-sized Northern Water Snake (Nerodia sipedon) coiled up sunning itself… about six feet above the water in a tree! The snake posed patiently for photos and when we’d had enough, we moved on. Snake stayed put. Not much farther along we spotted another water snake suspended in the branches. Some way farther, another though this one stretched out along a log jutting from the water. We also encountered one large and one baby garter snake, though they were not nearly so impressive as the tree-climbers.
At home, She had me take a look at her photos. Several were quite wonderful in technical quality — solid focus with beautiful detail of the snakes and the frog. With all my fancy gear, I have to say this wasn’t my best day. {sigh}
Still in all, it was a fine day looking at old paintings and shiny new snakes.
I took some time today to try out what I hope will be an excellent addition to the small collection of lenses for my SLR cameras: Canon’s EF 400mm f/5.6L, USM. The super telephoto is a medium-weight (some would say heavy-) beauty, solidly-built with an attached, retracting lens shade, and ample manual-focus grips. A “prime focus” optic, it features a minimum number of high-quality glass elements, only two electronic switches, and no image stabilization; those reduced features help keep weight, complexity, and price down. I wondered whether I could use the big new glass handheld for wildlife photography. I found the answer is a definite maybe! The lens and my EOS D50 camera make for a hefty load though that, in itself, doesn’t prohibit handheld shooting. What I’m not used to, however, is the lens’s rather distant close-focus distance of about 3.9 meters and its very shallow depth of focus (a function of focal length and aperture, of course). The distant close-focus can be a problem since I’m used to my 70 – 200mm lens’s ability to focus to about 1.2 meters. On nature hikes, I’ll either need to carry two cameras or be prepared to swap lenses a lot more frequently than I do now though 400mm is an awful lot of lens for most of our hikes. Of course, a long lens is a tool you use for specific shots so, if I’m to go out birding, I’ll probably want and need to start carrying the lens and camera combo mounted to a tripod. The lens comes with a tripod mount collar (Canon didn’t include that on my pricey 70 – 200mm zoom) and I did find that, even with my steady hand and high shutter speeds, I could have used a bit more physical stability today. Image quality appears to be very good to excellent (as expected), auto-focus is generally quick and silent. Shots at f/8 have very shallow depth of focus which I’m not used to but which can be really wonderful for isolating a subject from background clutter. The down side of shallow focus is that you’d better be bang-on target or the subject won’t be sharp as you would like. It will be fun to try this glass out in astrophotography, piggybacked to a telescope as a guide during long exposures! (The optical elements of this telephoto are much better than those of my telescope.) My test shots today included a nuthatch (that took flight as I fired the shutter), some Canada geese, a squirrel, a few spring wildflowers, etc. No wading birds at the lake today. My favorite, however, was my final shot of the session at Hinckley Lake: I heard a Cardinal singing and spotted it high in a tree. I walked to a point almost directly under the bird, adjusted the camera a bit, and made two exposures before he took off. Likely to get that one printed and framed: it’s a nice shot!
A foggy morning made for beautifully moody scenes at Hinckley Lake. The first scene of many that caught my eye was of two empty picnic tables resting amongst autumn leaves on the shore overlooking the lake. I strolled along the path gathering images as I went: ghostly lines of trees seen through the mists; lovely groves of trees with soft light infused from above. Though engrossed in the lovely views of muted color and shadowy trees along the shore, a spot of color trailside caught my eye: Two clumps of fungi were growing at the base of an oak, both dripping with heavy dew. Slimy, perhaps, but their glistening beauty kept my attention for some time. The morning’s quiet beauty made for a welcome respite.
Today I was, at last, able to return to the Hinckley Lake Boathouse to read letters posted explaining closure of the charming little business that operated there. I’d not been able to find anything through searches of local news media to even tell me that the Boathouse was closing much less explain it. Posted on the building was a personal letter from owners Gary and Sharon Hack. They noted the closure wasn’t their idea and that their small business wasn’t the only licensed operation in the Cleveland Metroparks System to be shuttered. Apparently the owners were told “thanks, but we don’t need you anymore.” Here’s the text of their letter dated October 8:
To our MANY Friends and Guests, here at The Boathouse…
It has been 24 hours since the Metroparks notified us that concessionaires, like us, will no longer be needed, and the park will take over operation of this facility.
I use the word “facility”, as whatever it becomes, to all of us, it will not be the gathering place it has been, for many years.
There are not words to describe how much your friendship and very presence has meant to Sharon and me. Small, personal places like this has been, are becoming a thing of the past, being replaced by “bottom line” corporations, or in this case, government.
…But you know all of this, and lamenting the passing parade is not my point. I guess I am rambling, because I, (We) don’t want to say goodbye….
From all of us at The Boathouse, or {sic} most sincere Thanks, AND BEST WISHES.
Very Sincerely,
Gary and Sharon Hack
It seems Cleveland Metroparks will take over operation of any concessions that are to continue within the parks. That means that, instead of simply licensing outside businesses and collecting fees, the System will now need to increase their own staffing at all levels (management of retail operations, management of facilities, staffing of facilities) if they are to continue offering valuable retail services to the public. They will also need to develop or hire expertise in all of the areas involved if quality of service is to be maintained. It will be interesting to see how well Cleveland Metroparks does in their new venture including what facilities and services they will continue to offer and what they drop. In all of that, we’re sorry to see the small business people summarily ejected and we thank them for making our visits to the parks, over the years, just a little bit nicer.
It was a very blustery day. Any autumn leaf that was thinking about dropping to the ground had its decision made for it by 15- to 30-mile-per-hour winds. Early in the day it was dreary and overcast. Later, openings appeared between the clouds. We were on our way home from a bit of shopping –She needed new jeans– and decided to make a quick stop at Hinckley Lake. Spots of sun drifted over the color-dappled trees and whorls of ripples spread on the surface of the water as the wind drove through the valley. I had my little Canon PowerShot G11 with me and so made some photos. The stop was brief but beautiful. Robbing a bit from the joy of the moment was discovering the cozy little boat rental and outdoors shop, the Hinckley Lake Boathouse, was going out of business. Stepping inside we found the shop nearly empty and a lone employee idly minding the cash register. {I hope to learn more of the circumstances but it sounds like Cleveland Metroparks may have chosen to not renew the owner’s lease and will take over the property.}
After dropping our cat off for a brief hospital stay, I stopped by Hinckley Lake for a hike and another effort at dragonfly photography. I was quite disappointed with my efforts on Sunday, coming way from that session with only a couple of acceptable pictures. So I walked the entire circumference of the lake stopping now and again to shoot images as opportunities arose. It wasn’t until I’d nearly completed the walk –about three-quarters of the way around– that I began to see a few dragonflies. I photographed one that perched for a while on a leaf of grass. Others stayed out of reach — too small and too far away for me to image properly. I noticed a large, dark variety liked to fly in figure-eight patterns in set territories and it occurred to me to try and capture dragonflies in flight. What the heck, it’s digital so I’m not wasting film! So I tried and tried and deleted a good number of blank or blurred frames in the field. What I got back, however, was astonishing to me and of better quality than I managed shooting still-life insects Sunday!
I’d taken the day off in order to deliver Tasha to animal hospital for iodine 131 treatment … a cure for hyperthyroidism. Yesterday I received a call from the hospital informing me of their need to postpone admission. It seems there is a shortage of iodine 131. Without the treatment, and because of her apparent sensitivity to methimazole, Tasha would remain untreated until the rescheduled date for the procedure; her thyroid levels might return to their formerly dangerous highs. So I decided to take advantage of my scheduled day off. I would pick up a prescription of methimazole gel for trans-dermal dosing (less trouble for Tasha) at the compounding pharmacy which has very limited mid-afternoon hours. My morning was open so I headed to Hinckley Lake for the first time this season or even this year. It was a comfortable but hazy morning with thin to moderate overcast as I began my little hike along the lake. On the walk “out” I saw no large wading birds at all –unusual, I think– but was content to look around at the quiet beauty of the area. Low rumbles of thunder began but seemed to be to the north and west of me. As the skies darkened I felt I’d better turn around and so began a somewhat faster walk back around the lake. As I approached one of my favorite spots for finding herons I did, indeed, spy one. It was wading slowly through the shallows, apparently looking to spook a fish and find a meal; that’s just what happened. The Great Blue Heron struck lightning-fast and hauled a writhing fish from the muddy waters. The big bird had speared the fish with its lower beak. It held its prey aloft for a bit, lowered it into the water briefly, and repositioned the fish so it was head-first in its mouth. Then it lifted its head high and in a few gulps swallowed the fish. In less than a minute it was all over. The fish was gone and the heron was again wading slowly through the muddy waters, seeking another meal. It’s the way of nature: life and death, death and life.














