Yosemite Valley : I made this photo during my first visit to Yosemite National Park. I have avoided Yosemite because of the renowned crowds, and fear that I could not “say” anything unique about a place that has been photographed so often. In the end, I came away with a few keepers. This was a sunset shot where I slowed my exposure to 20 seconds in order to capture a reflection of El Capitan in the flowing water.

Top 10 2025

December 31, 2025

This year’s selection of best images should probably be written in quotes, such as “best images.” I enjoy being in the field watching nature unfold, but I am not wild about doing the edit and selecting photographs to be shared. As such, my work from 2025 is an incomplete story. While I have chosen some images to edit and share, the majority of my photographs remain in an unedited state… shame on me. Thus, when I describe this as my “Top 10,” it might be better to claim that these are the best from the selection of images I have edited this year. In fact, I am confident that there are many other compelling photos languishing in files that have yet to be reviewed, selected, and worked.

Coyote Shaking : I photographed this coyote at Point Reyes National Seashore. I was on an outing with another photographer and we saw this young coyote sleeping in the field on a foggy afternoon. We slowly approached and sat down within 20 meters of this guy and just watched it chilling on this cool day. We were hoping the coyote would stand up and do a “downward dog,” but instead it stood to shake and layed down again. I loved the experience, the relaxed behavior, the exposed little canine, and the minimalism of the image. While it may not appeal to many, this may be my favorite shot of 2025.

Curlew Curlew : This long-billed curlew was photographed in the Elkhorn Slough near Moss Landing. I live 20 minutes from this ecological reserve and try to visit at least once a week. On this day, the low sun angle of sunrise and still water in the mudflat allowed me to capture a perfect reflection as the bird flew to another nearby location.

I began the selection process by reviewing all of the photographs that I flagged during my initial edit. I took well over 30,000 photos this year and 539 received a flag. These flagged photographs were then reviewed, color-corrected, cropped, and processed to be shared online or in print. Some of these photos were shared on Facebook, Instagram, in a blog, sent to be published, or printed for the gallery in my studio. After reviewing each of the 539 images, I rated the best with stars. This process of selecting the best of the best left me with 26 pictures that needed to be whittled down to 10.

Portrait of a Pigeon Guillemot : I am fortunate to live near a few cliffs where seabirds nest or roost. The guillemot cliff is a great place to photograph these red-footed birds with outstretched wings against a turbulent ocean. While I made many photos of the latter throughout the year, I chose this portrait for its simplicity and implied mystery. The out of focus blobs frame the subject, but only reveals a hint of the body.

The Lovers : I made this image during my road trip to the Redwoods and Oregon Coast. I enjoy both widlife and landscape photography, but am often challenged by what I call “still life” scenes. This is a tiny section of a root mass from a toppled redwood tree. I was drawn to the contrasting tones and the face-like expression of the root that appears to be riding another branch.

I find this last stage, the distilation of personally meaningful and interesting photos to the final ten to be an excruciating process. In the end, I try to ask myself a few poignant questions, dare I say “tests,” as a way to select the final set being shared as a “Top 10.” The first test requires that I consider the “consistancy, conformation, and mood” of each picture such that it matches a style or ethos that appeals to me. The second test requires that I consider the technical merits of the photograph, and the final test requires that I find the experience or moment of capture to have been intentional.

Racked-up : I like to visit Point Reyes National Sea Shore many times throughout the year. I go there often to photograph bobcats and coyotes, but also a plan every September to photograph the elk rut. Last year I saw some magnificent elk in thick fog, this year I was in the right place to see a pair of bulls tusseling at the end of the day.

Otter Kiss : In the beginning of December I visited Grand Teton National Park. While I’ve been to this location many times in the past, I’ve never experienced a winter in the Tetons. My target species for the trip were moose, but I’m an opportunist and will photograph anything that catches my eye. This photo is of a pair of otters that were diving into and out of a frozen river. At one point one otter ran towards the other and they appeared to kiss. It is a simple image with very few elements… just the way I like it!

Moose Walking : I took well over a thousand moose photos during my trip to the Tetons and have deleted the set to a collection of one-hundred keepers. While I’m not sure that this is my “best” moose photo, I found this particular experience to be exhilarating. I wanted to make a picture of a moose that was “intimate” and suggested something about its immense size. I scrambled through snow and sage brush to get ahead of this individual, crouched low, and framed the shot to capture a bit of mountains and sky. I felt like a tiny gnome standing among giants.

For this year, most of my photography was relatively local. With the exception of a trip to the Redwoods, one to Yosemite, and a third to the Grand Tetons, I stayed within 120 miles of my home. The images presented are consistent in my approach to simplify what I see, create a sense of mystery, embrace minimalism, or illustrate a natural behavior. While maybe not the best of 2025, they are appropriately a Top Ten.

Pastels in Yosemite : I traveled to Yosemite in November to photograph autumn color. On this windless morning there was just a hint of fog as the sun was rising up and behind the mountains. I used a filter to allow for a long exposure with the hope that the rising fog would convey someing a little etherial about the landscape.

Fox Trot : I photographed this young red fox about 20 minutes prior to sunrise. To freeze the action, I cranked up my ISO to 12,800 and followed the fox as it moved. I like the soft palette of color, subdued lighting and hint of rimlight in this image. In a departure from much of my wildife photography, I also like how this fox was not making eye contact with me.

Happy New Year… Bruce

Patience and Nature Photography: The Art of Waiting

December 20, 2025 in 2025

Nature photography is more than just capturing images; it is an art that requires a keen eye, deep appreciation for the environment, and most importantly, patience. Unlike studio photography, where lighting, subjects, and conditions can be controlled, the mix of light and subject in nature photography is unpredictable. Whether waiting for the perfect sunrise or movement of an elusive animal, patience is an essential tool in a photographer’s arsenal.

Wildlife photographers spend hours or even days in a single location waiting for their subject to appear or display a specific behavior. Similarly, landscape photographers may revisit the same location multiple times to capture the perfect combination of light and weather. Without invoking the power of patience, these fleeting moments would be lost.

The patient nature photographer is rewarded with unique and captivating images. Making the time to wait and watch life unfold creates the opportunity to see and capture photographs that tell a story or evoke deep emotions. A perfectly timed shot of a breaching whale, a mother with her pup, or the first light of dawn touching a mountain peak are all products of patience.

Patience allows photographers to develop a deep connection with their subjects, and experience moments that others rarely have the opportunity to see. It is in the waiting that we make time to observe our surroundings, discover the intricacies of our muse, and see the subtle changes in light. This mindfulness not only enhances our photographic work, but it also fosters a sense of respect and admiration for the natural world.

Patience manifests itself in many ways, and I often consider this to be a super-power that we photographers can invoke. The patient nature photographer is one who is willing to wait out the weather, the light, and the behavior of a subject to create an opportunity to capture a rarely observed moment. Patience may not apply to a given day or photographic opportunity, but to a place. The patient nature photographer will visit and revisit a location, photograph the same landscape or subject across days or even years with the goal of producing something unique and special. Finally, the patient photographer does not give up. At the core of our craft is the pre-visualization of the photos we hope to make. A type of forced serendipity, the patient photographer will scout a location, wait for the optimal time of year, and put themselves on site at the right place and at the right time.

The patience developed through nature photography extends beyond the camera. It cultivates qualities such as perseverance, resilience, and a deeper appreciation for the natural world. In a fast-paced society where instant gratification is often sought, nature photography reminds us to slow down, observe, and appreciate the beauty in waiting.

Patience is a core skill of the nature photographer. Whether waiting for the perfect light, an elusive animal, or the right composition, patience rewards photographers with images that capture the essence of the natural world. Beyond the lens, it teaches valuable life lessons, encouraging a deeper connection with nature and the virtue of persistence in the pursuit of beauty.

Hanging on by a Thread

October 29, 2025 in 2025

Like the timber wolf, polar bear, bald eagle, and California condor, the monarch butterfly is an iconic species that evokes an intrinsic biophilic1 impulse that inspires conservation. In contrast to other “glamor fauna,” monarchs are insects. In fact, the monarch butterfly is an ambassador for promoting insects, ethical gardening, land conservation, and biodiversity. No other insect is as familiar to and loved by the North American public as much as the monarch butterfly.

Sadly, this once abundant species now exists at the whim of humanity as it faces the same crisis that most other plants and animals now endure. Unless you are a species that thrives in and among humans, are a generalist that can tolerate drastic climatic conditions, and can reproduce in spite of urbanization, you are a species on the brink… you are hanging on by a thread.

Today, monarch butterflies can be found in Australia, New Zealand, Hawaii, North America, Central America, and South America. Often claimed as “their” iconic insect by the local human population, this butterfly exhibits uniquely different behaviors throughout its various range. The monarchs’ in the South Pacific, Central America, South America, and Florida are generally considered to be non-migratory. In contrast, the populations that thrive east of the Rockies, and along the Pacific coast are known for their migratory behavior.

Natural Bridges State Beach : October 2024

Interestingly, the butterflies that inhabit the central US are the true long distance migrants. Beginning with their spring departure from Mexico, the emigrants undergo three to five reproductive generations as they head north to Ontario. The final group that emerges in September form a so-called “super generation” that flies south to overwinter in the Mexican oyamel fir forests. The northern-most individuals travel up to 3000 miles to roost in trees that their great, great, great grandparents departed earlier that year. This migration is one of those amazing ecological stories that captivates the public, and explains why monarchs have achieved their iconic status.

While many Californians believe that their winter monarchs are part of the Mexican migratory population, this is not the case. The western migrants move from west to east where they go through as many as four reproductive generations. Arriving in Idaho, Colorado, Utah, and Arizona during the spring months, these butterflies lay their eggs on milkweed and their babies undergo multiple reproductive events before heading west to California. As with the oyamel forests in Mexico, the coastal forests of California form a stable micro-climate that allows the butterflies to slow their metabolism, conserve energy, and survive during the cooler winter months. While the California population does not approach the size of the mid-continental monarchs, much like their cousins to the east, they form tree-top clusters during cool evenings as a way of maintaining thermal stability.

Regardless of the migratory path, the monarch population is experiencing a monumental decline. At the present, the western population is 1% of its mid 1980’s peak, and while the eastern population had a strong 2024, its total biomass is about 20% of what it once was2. The mix of urbanization, mono-culture farming, use of pesticides, logging, and climate instability has impacted the survival of migratory monarch butterflies. Literally hanging on by a thread, the long term survival of migratory monarch population is far from guaranteed, and unless we find a way to reverse the momentum of habitat loss and instability, it is possible that future generations will not experience the wonders of this unique phenomenon of the insect world.

1Biophilia : The innate human tendency to connect with nature and other forms of life.

2 Xerces Society

The Photographer’s Dilemma : Staying Motivated

August 12, 2025

There was a stillness to the air and a chill that cut through layers of wool, fleece, and down. Mist hovered above the surface of the open water as morning light penetrated a thick layer of fog. Sunrise is still 30 minutes away, while the cold steals heat from my extremities. One can only endure so much, yet the promise of a magical sunrise is enough to fortify my resolve to stick with it.

What motivates a nature photographer to wake up early, stay out late, miss meals, hike in the heat, camp in the cold, travel for days, spend a small fortune on gear, and forgo outings with friends and family? This question haunts me now more than ever. There was a time when the solitude of wilderness was a very personal experience, one that created the opportunity to slow life down and live an inner peace that comes from being alone in nature. While some wandered the woods with binoculars or settled on a mat of moss to read or meditate, I carried a camera and embraced the solitude that many avoid.

Enter the present where photography has become an ubiquitous practice with a currency of likes and hearts motivating throngs of humans to show others that they were there and saw that. How is it possible to sustain the motivation to make new images when so many others seem to be competing for attention and affirmation? If you’ve been shooting for decades, worked with film, large format plates, medium format rolls, and the limitation of low ASA slide film, you know that photography, much like everything else, has undergone a fundamental change. The complexities of the “exposure triangle” and need to manually focus were once a barrier for many. In fact, mastering the latter often distinguished excellence from mediocrity. In contrast to the precision mechanical nature of film cameras, the modern mirrorless tools are more like computational devices than the cameras that many of us remember from our youth.

Maintaining motivation and joy in photography continues to be a personal battle. While I long for that special feeling that I once experienced when discovering an “amazing” image from a roll of 36, I do get excited when I manage to photograph a subject in beautiful light or an unexpected behavior. Staying motivated when surrounded by others who travel more, experience the exotic, and are savvy with the modern tools, require that I focus on what connected me to photography in the past. Motivation requires that I still believe that I have something unique to say with my cameras, and can find ways to embrace the moment of capture when so many other things compete for my attention. Motivation requires that I find joy in the process and peace when I’m holding a camera to my eye…. I wonder, what motivates you?

The Photographer's Dilemma : Why Photography?

July 27, 2025

It’s amazing how quickly anyone can collect data these days. When I was a college student in the early 1980’s, I spent hours in the library scanning the Reader’s Guide to Periodical Literature in order to find accepted and vetted sources that could be cited in an essay, lab report, or paper for presentation. If you were born after 1985, it’s likely that you have no experience with the Reader’s Guide, or how essential they were for developing a fact-based piece of writing. So, it is with my background in writing both undergraduate and graduate theses with the aid of the Reader’s Guide, that I share these probable - but possibly dubious - “stats” about photography.

After prompting Google with a few pointed questions, I’ve learned the following:

According to PetaPixel.com, a well respected photography website, approximately 5.3 billion photos are taken each day. With the aid of a little math, this translates to approximately 221 million pictures per hour or 3.7 million snaps per minute.
About 1.3 billion photographs are shared to Instagram daily (you can see mine here), while Facebook averages 350 million photo shares per day (Cited: Omnicore Agency).
For those who share their photos to social media sites, you’ll be disappointed to learn that the typical person spends about 2.7 seconds on your photograph before swiping to another… (Google AI engine factoid).

So there it is, we live in a world that is saturated with images, and where everyone is a photographer. As a longtime hobby/semi-professional photographer, the ubiquity of picture taking and army of self-described photographers on this planet has been a bit of an existential conundrum for me. A casual review of this website and its many portfolios will reveal that the making of images and writing about them is a critical aspect of my identity. Knowledge that I have inextricably linked the “essence of me” to a practice performed by tens of millions of people each day, does little to bolster my own self-esteem and belief in a uniqueness that differentiates my mind from those who share the planet with me.

Yet, the recognition that throngs of photographers hike the woods, look for owls, photograph bears, craft landscapes, and wait for the sweet light has not dampened my enthusiasm for the process. In fact, this very reality seems to be a source of motivation that has caused my own process to evolve over and over again. While I shy away from competition, I am not one to remain constant when a regiment of clones shoot and share the same things. Seeing the work of my peers informs me about my own practice and pushes me to try and see differently.

In the end, photography is a salve for life’s complexity. It is an opportunity to embrace a singular experience and live in the moment. When peering through a viewfinder at a rising sun, streams of light emanating from the sky, or watching a squirrel emerge from its subterranean tunnel, I am lost in the experience. If I take a few moments every day to study the patterns in bark, the randomness of beach pebbles, or the probing of a sandpiper’s bill, I create an opportunity to ground myself and remember that I too am a part of the natural world.

Photography is the rare craft, discipline, and art that anyone can experience. If one were to take the process seriously and make their images with purpose, they too would create the opportunity to let go, focus, and simply be.

The Photographer's Dilemma : History of Nature Photography

July 20, 2025

Last week I discussed my personal history with photography and why I became so engrossed with cameras and the process of making images. In this second blog on what I am calling “The Photographer’s Dilemma,” I will briefly explore the history of nature photography. Understanding the historical origins of environemntal photography will allow me to build a bit of context for the remaining blog posts in this series…

Red Fox Looking Back on its Habitat : Coastal California

Nature and wildlife photography emerged alongside technological advances in cameras during the mid 19th century. Early photographic equipment was cumbersome and required long exposure times that made capturing moving wildlife nearly impossible. As a result, early nature photographers focused on landscapes and still subjects, such as trees, mountains, and rivers. One of the earliest nature photographers was Carleton Watkins. He documented the landscapes of Yosemite in the 1860s, and contributed to the conservation movement by showing the beauty of these wild areas to the public.

Sunrise on Damnation Trail : Redwood State Park, CA

Wildlife photography developed later with the invention of faster shutter speeds, more sensitive film emulstions, and portable cameras. George Shiras is often regarded as a pioneer of wildlife photography. He used flash and camera traps in the 1890s to capture nocturnal animals in action, particularly deer and wolves in North America. His images, published in National Geographic, inspired public interest in wildlife conservation. By introducing the population to the hidden wonders in nature, Shiras’s work galvanized American citizens to pressure state and federal politicians to slow the exploitation of wildlife and natural habitats.

Egret Reflection : Natural Bridges State Park, CA

Throughout the 20th century, improvements in lenses, film sensitivity, and eventually digital sensors allowed photographers to capture wildlife behavior with clarity and precision. Photographers such as Ansel Adams elevated nature photography to an art form, while wildlife photographers like Peter Beard, Ylla, and Nick Nichols documented African wildlife and conservation crises with powerful storytelling pictures and essays.

Tasty?… What a fox or bobcat might discuss when seeing these little ones.

Today, nature and wildlife photography plays a crucial role in environmental awareness and conservation advocacy. Digital cameras, drones, and remote camera traps have expanded possibilities for an intimate and respectful documentation of even the most elusive species. Social media has enabled photographers worldwide to share images instantly, increasing public appreciation and interest in biodiversity.

From its origins as a technical challenge to its role in art and activism, nature and wildlife photography continues to deepen humanity’s connection with the natural world, reminding us of its beauty, fragility, and the urgent need for protection.

The Photographer's Dilemma : The History before the History (AKA Preamble)

July 14, 2025 in 2025

In 1979 my late Uncle Charles moved into my family’s California home in order to expand his East Coast business to the West. Our house would be his California “headquarters,” while his home in New Jersey would continue to be a permanent address. Charles would stay with us for up to eight weeks at a time, and was a great source of entertainment for our family. A lover of games, jokes, and music, my uncle was simultaneously kind and chauvinistic… a man of his age, but not this age. A connoisseur of finer things, Charles wore a Rolex watch, listened to music with his McIntosh stereo, and captured the world through Leica lenses. It is the latter point that probably initiated my 45 year love affair with photography. Charles was the consummate shutterbug, creator of family portraits, documenter of vacations, and the “Uncle Bob” that drives every wedding photographer to drink. His love of photography spilled over and onto me, and is the reason I am a photographic “artist” today.

In 1986 I was “hired” to be a research assistant and grunt for a project situated on a tiny island in the Bering Sea. I was an undergraduate student that impressed a professor who was looking for young people to live rough and collect data on a sub-arctic island. I was enamored by the prospect of doing authentic research, idolized the primary investigator, and thought this would be a gateway to a PhD. While I was comfortable with the basics of field ecology, I was naive, young, and hungry; I hungered for knowledge, recognition, and nutrients. A poor college student living in a shack at a campus trailer park, I saw this research opportunity as a chance to have a trip of a lifetime and set a course for my future; little did I know, my trip to Alaska would ultimately carve the path that was and is my life today. Three weeks into the research project our team was “saddled” with a junior high school science teacher who had paid to be on a University Expedition. University Expeditions was an organization that paired lay-people with scientists, and its participants pay to work with “real” researchers. Dwight Sieggreen from Detroit Michigan joined us for two weeks, and we became quick friends. More than 20 years to my senior, I was Dwight’s liaison and teacher of field methodologies, while he became an ear-worm that led me to consider a career in public education. Hearing about the impact he was having on generations of children, and the summer adventures he experienced during off times, I began to embrace the potential of what ultimately led to my 32 year career in science education. Furthermore, Dwight was a shutterbug with more knowledge about making pictures in nature than I could have imagined. While I spent hours teaching him how to observe nesting pelagic birds and measuring the dimensions of beaks, feet, and eggs, he spent an equal amount of time helping me understand exposure theory, composition, and decisive moments. A one-two punch, Mr. Sieggreen introduced me to my potential as an educator and reignited my passion for photography that began with my uncle.

This tale of my past lays the foundation for a series of blogs that I am titling “The Nature Photographer’s Dilemma.” Now, at age 60, I am a lifetime photographer, hopelessly devoted to capturing what I see with my camera, interpreting the world through a lens, and seeking a way to express myself artistically. I stand on the shoulder of countless other photographers that preceded me and mentors who I’ve sought to emulate and impress. My photography is an expression and manifestation of my experiences as a biologist, teacher, traveler, and human. Yet, this very thing that is my obsession is also is a source of frustration, anxiety, and questioning. We live in a world where images are ubiquitous, and anybody can be a “photographer.” So, what does it mean to be a photographer and how can someone stand out when everyone is making images? Is it necessary to stand out, or can we find satisfaction in anonymity? It is my endless tendency, dare I say personality quirk, to reflect on the past as I push into the future, and this quirk has me thinking about what I consider to be a dilemma.

If you are interested in my musings and my rationale for this obsession, I hope that you will read my thoughts as I try to articulate the “Nature Photographer’s Dilemma” in a series of 10 blog posts throughout July, August, and September…

For those interested in where I am heading, this is the itinerary I hope to explore…

-> Dilemma i : History and Future of Nature Photography

-> Dilemma ii : Why Photography

-> Dilemma iii : Staying Motivated

-> Dilemma iv : Creativity in the Face of Technological Innovation

-> Dilemma v : Editing

-> Dilemma vi : Keeping up with the Jones’s

-> Dilemma vii : Skill vs Automation

-> Dilemma viii : Being Seen

-> Dilemma ix : Throw Back Thursday

-> Dilemma x : Closing Thoughts and AI

It's Earth Day, 2025

April 22, 2025 in 2025

On April 22, 2017 I wrote the linked blog about Earth Day. My musings reflected on biology, the Earth Day movement, and my confusion about the political moment at that time. Eight years later, the feeling of déjà vu is palpable, while the reality of the planet’s health and the future of its denizens seem even more tenuous.

On one side, progressive movements have advocated for bold climate action, green jobs, and environmental justice. On the other, skepticism toward climate science and fear of economic disruption fuels a resistance that has never been more powerful. Despite the entrenched polarization, I am hopeful that the frequency and intensity of climate disasters are forcing reluctant conversations that may break the malaise, and even forge some common ground. Yet, I fear that the politics of the day make honest and frank discussions about the environment nearly impossible.

So here we are, Earth Day 2025. It has arrived amid a turbulent moment where political appointments are disingenuous, draconian cuts have forced out experienced staff, data science has been demonized, and deregulation has gutted the EPA's enforcement capabilities. It is hard to be hopeful when there is a powerful force that supports the one-sided agenda of development over protection.

Sadly, those who care are tired and bewildered by this period in time in which the environmental movement is demoralized and deflated. Yet, there are those of us who continue to look for ways to fight the good fight. It is crucial that we keep talking about the data, the reality, the loss of biodiversity, the climate disasters, the food insecurity, the loss of property, and the right to live on a healthy planet. We, the environmentalists, are tired of fighting, but we are not done. For those who care, I suggest that you…

Reach out to your state and federal congressional leaders, and remind them that your health and safety is in their hands.
Find a way to volunteer your time and energy to advocate for a park, a habitat, a species, an environment,…
Support an organization that buy and conserve land, documents environmental damage, engages in lobbying, and/or works to protect an ecosystem.

It is Earth Day 2025 and out collective action has never been more important.

Reflections, Long-billed Curlew : Elkhorn Slough

Adventures in California... Post #2

January 22, 2025

The Elkhorn Slough Reserve is located between Monterey and Santa Cruz, California. Nestled between mountains and ocean, tidal forces fill the shallow wetland with sea water, while freshwater rivers replenish the slough with nutrients. A rare coastal wetland in central California, the Elkhorn slough is a little known refuge for aquatic mammals and birds. Today, it is a critical nursery for the sea otter, whose population plummeted to 50 individuals in the early 1900’s. The protected bay that makes up the slough is a key habitat where rehabilitated otters are released and can thrive. With a population of 2000-3000 otters in the Monterey Bay, this reserve is one of the best places to see and photograph otters using rocks to crack mollusk shells, cuddle their young, or just chill in small groups.

SeaOtter IGBJL_1396-NEF_DxO_DeepPRIMEXD.jpg

Otter and SealZ8O_0272-NEF_DxO_DeepPRIMEXD.jpg

It’s not just for otters, as one can see harbor seals and their pups as well as sea lions cruising for fish in the harbor and open ocean. This region is rich with anchovies and other small fish, and is a great place to go on whale tour to find lunging humpbacks, orca, and a variety of dolphin species.

WhaleBreech #2Z8O_3857-NEF_DxO_DeepPRIMEXD-Edit.jpg

WhiteSided DolphinZ8O_5438-NEF_DxO_DeepPRIMEXD-Edit.jpg

LSeal&Pup Z8O_0914-NEF_DxO_DeepPRIMEXD-Edit.jpg

California Sea LionsZ8O_3218-NEF_DxO_DeepPRIMEXD-Edit.jpg

Avid and novice birders will also be rewarded with a visit to the Elkhorn Slough. With over 340 bird species identified, this wetland is a hotspot for those looking to add new birds to their list. On any given visit, one can see a diverse group of gulls, terns, shorebirds, pelagic species, passerines, raptors, and ducks. You will be rewarded with something new on nearly every visit. My capacity to describe the treasures one might encounter is limited, as I’ve not included a single marine invertebrate or plant, both of which contribute to this location’s cornucopia of biodiversity.

So why this blog at this time? By now, many of you know about the Los Angeles fires that are burning about 300 miles to the south of the slough, but it is unlikely that you are aware of the fire on the edge of the this refuge. After an outing where I photographed otters and shorebirds on January 15th, a Lithium battery storage facility caught file and expelled a plume of toxins into the air. The Pacific Coast Highway was promptly closed, and people in the area were forced to evacuate. The smoke reached 1000 feet and was dispersed by offshore breezes. While the short-term impact is inconvenient, the longterm effects of the fire are unknown. The decision to build this plant so close to an ecological treasure, and towns like Salinas, Moss Landing, and Monterey, is questionable at best. Sadly, fires like this do harm to the psyche of each of us, as we wrestle with the realities of climate change and climate instability. This power storage and manufacturing facility is one solution to mitigate the need for carbon-based energy. The batteries near Moss Landing store solar and wind energy in an attempt to reduce the state’s carbon footprint. Thus, we are faced with a difficult paradox… How is it possible to sustain human development and preserve the planet’s biodiversity while driving down our reliance on fossil fuels? The latter is a question that I first encountered as a young college student in 1984. Sadly, this question proposed by a long-forgotten professor continues to linger and haunt me 41 years later.

Japanese Macaque (aka: Snow Monkey), Hokkaido Japan : If you were one who grew up with National Geographic Magazines and watched the Mutual of Omaha "*Wild Kingdom,”* then you’ve seen these monkeys bathing in hot springs. It was the potential of seeing and photograph this species and red-crowned cranes that led me to choose Japan as a photographic destination. It took mere seconds for me to connect with these monkeys who appear so very contemplative, as they seek warmth on a cold winter’s day.

Top Ten 2024

January 01, 2025 in 2024

Today’s blog is inspired by my friend and extraordinary photographer Martin Bailey (see his work, podcasts, and photo-workshops —> here). Martin has advocated for years that photographers exercise their eye and heart by selecting a “Top 10” group of images produced in a calendar year. This task can be excruciating if one takes as many pictures as I do. In the end, favorites and bests often rise to the top, but these so-called “bests” are those that resonate with the artist, and not the viewer. I am quite certain that the photos I have selected may not be the ones a dispassionate observer might make, but they are the images that resonated with me.

I’ve decided to share this work in clusters. The images will be preceded by a short block of text that offers a bit of context, and each picture will be captioned with a title and explanation as to why it was selected.

JAPAN: 2024 began with the earnest realization that my wife, Tamy Leventhal, would no longer be a physical companion on my adventures. Her passing continues to sting, but while she is not here with me in the flesh, I carry her in my heart and brain wherever I go. This passenger in me is uniquely present when I’m in the field and behind a camera. While I had done a few short trips in 2023 following Tamy’s death, my January trip to Japan was a seminal moment. This excursion with Martin Bailey Tours was the first time I left the country to pursue nature photography without Tamy. I am grateful for the friendships I made abroad, and Martin’s sensitivity to the emotional burden I carried during my travels.

Hokkaido Japan was a bucket-list destination that I had always planned to visit following my retirement. Mid January and early February are the best times to photograph Japan’s winter wildlife. Because I was bound to my work as a teacher, seeing a winter in Japan had to wait until I was not tied to the needs of my students. Because my trip to Japan was a significant step into the future, the work I produced there represents 50% of my top ten photographs.

Cranes in the Mist, Hokkaido Japan : Seeing Red-crowned cranes was on my bucket list of species to see and photograph. I have told stories about these birds to my students when discussing behavior ecology. In addition, this species in mist and frost seemed to be an iconic way of representing the minimalistic beauty that is everywhere in Hokkaido.

Fox Curl, Hokkaido Japan : I was fortunate to see and photograph many foxes during my time in Japan. On this occasion, a foraging fox stopped what it was doing, sought out a patch of dark earth, and curled up to take a nap. This brief moment of eye-contact is what elevated this photo to my top ten list.

Banking, Hokkaido Japan : I spent a few frenzied mornings trying to photograph Steller’s sea eagles and white-tailed eagles from the deck of a boat that was surrounded by ice flows. While the photography was quite challenging, I made quite a few images of this species catching fish in the frigid water. In the end, my favorite eagle shot was of this bird that had banked towards me and seemed to look right into my lens.

Where Trees Meet Snow, Hokkaido Japan : I am forever trying to push myself beyond “natural history” images that might seem best placed in a field guide. By using inentional camera movements, I induced the blur to create an impressionistic image of a forest… you’ll see more work like this from me in the future.

MOVE TO CALIFORNIA: People often say that you should not make any drastic decisions following a loss like the one I experienced. While I tried to give life a go in Minnesota, I found that I could not break from the depression and grief that overwhelmed me each day. While I continue to grieve the loss of my partner, I recognized that I needed a change in scenery if I was going to ever stop the the merry-go-round that replayed Tamy’s decline in my head. So, as 2023 ended, I retired from my 31 year-long career in teaching, and made plans to move to California. I purchased a tiny home that is all of 400 square feet, and put it on my sister’s property along the Central California coast. This second block of images reflect a tiny fraction of my work in California. I live in a biodiverse region of the state where mountains give way to forests that touch the sea. My decision to live here offers me the opportunity to make images throughout the year and follow a variety of unique migration patterns.

Bobcat on the Prowl, Point Reyes California : I have spent many years trying to make a decent photograph of a bobcat. In October, 2024, I spent 90 minutes over two days watching this individual from afar. At some point, I just sat in the prairie and watched the cat go about her business… this was the gift she gave me.

Laughing Sea Otter, Elkhorn Slough California : I live about 20 minutes from an estuary where I can put in a kayak and paddle with otters, sea lions, seals, and pelagic bird species. This otter was busy grooming when it looked up and appeard to laugh. Like many of my other strong images of wildlife, it is the eye-contact that caused me to select this as a top ten shot.

White-sided Dolphin Porpoising, Monterey Bay California : I have photographed dolphins and whales many times throughout my decades of nature photography, but have never made a clean shot of a dolphin that is completely out of the water. Shot on a very foggy morning, this was the first time I’ve made a dolphin photo that I actually like.

ICELAND: Tamy and I visited Iceland in June 2016 and again in August 2017. We had two amazing adventures, and I fell for the magical light and scenery that the country had to offer. With wanderlust in my heart, I made a rather spontaneous decision to return to Iceland. The trip was a cathartic experience as it was the first time I returned to a place we both loved, but this time I made the journey alone. The November conditions were nothing short of brilliant, as I was gifted two days of beautiful light and four days of turbulent Icelandic weather.

Clouds over Vestrahorn, Stokksnes Iceland : Although I had driven past this location previously, I never stopped. From the road this area appears to be a “nothing-burger.” On this occasion, a guide steared me in the right direction and I was able to capture the motion in the grass and sky as sunset approached.

Sunrise on Diamond Beach, Iceland : Much like Vestrahorn, Tamy and I did not have the opportunity to photograph Diamond Beach in 2016. While I made many images of water flowing in and around the ephemeral icebergs, I liked this simple shot of a sunstar refracting through a block of ice.

MOVING FORWARD: 2025 promises to be another year rich in photographic adventures. I have purchased a 2002 VW camper van and hope to spend the year traveling throughout the US and Canada. I do not know what the future holds, but if I’m alive, you’ll see me somewhere with a pack on my back and a tripod on my shoulder.

Happy New Year, bruce