wildlife Archives - Loree Johnson Photography

Finding My Way Home – Wild November

by Loree | Nov 7, 2022 | Birds, Deserts, Finding my Way Home

Wild November is the twenty-fifth installment of Finding My Way Home. To view the previous installment, click here . If you wish to start from the beginning, click here. This is the ongoing story of the six years I spent as a vagabond photographer.

Enchanting sunrise at Elephant Butte Lake, New Mexico. — ***“Land of Enchantment”***

After a short stay in Aztec, I point my motor home towards Grants, New Mexico. With major road construction going on, the road is gravel for about fifteen miles. Wouldn’t you know it, a flying rock chips my brand new windshield! This time, it is a small chip that should be repairable. Upon check-in at the Bar S RV Park, I ask if there is a chip repair place in town that will come to me. The woman at the desk hands me the local yellow pages and I make note of a business that offers mobile chip repair.

The next morning, I call and set an appointment. Feeling good about handling that issue, I set off to resupply groceries and explore the town. This is one of the many towns situated on historic Route 66. But, unlike other towns I’ve visited on Route 66, this one seems very run down and depressed. It’s clear to me that this place is not making the most of its history. The sad vibe makes me anxious to move on, but I try to make the best of the few days I am here.

A small group of four sandhill cranes (Antigone canadensis) arrive early at Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge. The New Mexico refuge is a regular stop for thousands of sandhill cranes every year during the fall migration. — ***“Migration Begins”***

The next day, Luna and I go for a long walk and then settle in to make some lunch and wait for the windshield repairman. My appointment is at 1:00pm. When no one shows up by 2:00, I make a call to find out when he will be there. My call goes to voicemail. I call again at 3:00 and again get voicemail. No answer the rest of the afternoon.

The next morning I call and ask what happened. He says he had an emergency and will be here at 3:00 this afternoon. Once again, the scheduled time comes and goes and no one shows up. Once again, my attempts to reach him go unanswered. Now, it’s getting to be urgent because I want to have the repair done before I travel further and risk the crack spreading.

A white-crowned sparrow (Zonotrichia leucophrys) poses against a backdrop of autumn color at Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge, New Mexico. — ***“White Crowned Sparrow in Autumn”***

I try another place, which offers chip repair, but not mobile service. I ask if they would be willing to come to the RV park and do the repair. After much hesitancy and my agreement to pay a ninety-dollar extra fee, they will do it. I’m beginning to wonder if the local businesses disdain for customers might be one of the reasons this town is in economic decline.

A few days later, I’m happy to be on the road again and excited to arrive at Birdwatcher’s RV Park in San Antonio, NM, adjacent to Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge. The location is perfect! Just two miles down the road from the refuge entrance. I called in advance and was told they only rent sites nightly, no weekly or monthly rates. Their busy season will begin in a few weeks when the cranes start to arrive, so I decide I will stay a few nights and look around the area for someplace with a monthly rate.

Full orange moon rising in Southern New Mexico, near Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge. — ***“New Mexico Moonrise”***

When I go in the office to pay, I’m told they don’t accept credit cards. Since I rarely carry more than twenty or thirty dollars in cash, I have to go to Socorro, about fifteen miles north. It would have been nice to be informed of this little detail when I called. Nonetheless, I’m thrilled to be here and can’t wait to explore this place I’ve heard so much about.

The next morning, I’m up before sunrise and off to the refuge. My first stop is a pond just outside the entrance. It’s a beautiful setting, full of ducks and shorebirds and even a couple of sandhill cranes in the distance. I’ve been told there is a pair of white-tailed kites on the refuge, which is unusual for this location. As I drive around the auto route, I see my first Javelinas! They run by so fast I cannot get a photo, but it’s thrilling to see an animal I’ve never seen before.

White-tailed Kite (Elanus leucurus), a rare visitor to the Bosque Del Apache National Wildlife Refuge, in flight early in the morning. — ***“Kite in Flight”***

Then, at a viewing deck, I see something perched in a snag. It takes off and flies toward me. It’s one of the white-tailed kites and it flies right over my head! Moments later, the other one flies after it. Already it’s a great day and it’s not even eight o’clock yet. I’m looking forward to a wild November at this wildlife refuge.

Off to hunt at Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge, this White-tailed Kite (Elanus leucurus) is something of a rarity in southern New Mexico. — ***“White-tailed Kite in Morning Light”***

By the time I get around both loops, the visitor center is open, so I stop in to ask some questions. I find out that the cranes won’t be arriving in large numbers for at least another two weeks. Also that Elephant Butte, about sixty miles to the south, is probably my best bet for monthly RV accommodations. The volunteer there alerts me to the presence of the white-tailed kites and I excitedly share my sighting.

After a few days exploring and getting to know the refuge and surrounding area, I land at Elephant Butte Resort for a month. Included with my site is access to their indoor pool, hot tub and exercise center. This is a first for me. Never have I stayed at an RV park with such posh amenities. I have my doubts that I will make much use of them, since I’m mostly here for the birds. Then, one morning I wake up with a sore back and realize I have a hot tub available. A long soak in hot water turns out to be a nice perk.

Two sandhill cranes (Antigone canadensis) bask in autumn's glory under a massive oak tree in full autumn regalia at Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge, New Mexico. The scene is reflected in a seasonal pond created by the refuge to provide habitat for cranes and other wildlife. — ***“Under the Old Oak Tree”***

This is the place I happen to be during the 2016 presidential election. It’s stormy outside and I’m nestled in bed watching election returns on my small bedroom television. As the evening progresses, and the returns come in, it’s not looking at all like I expected. Around nine o’clock my phone rings and it’s my son asking if I’m watching. We express concern over how things are going, but hope it might turn around. By the time he calls me again at midnight, it is all but over and we are both in tears.

When I wake up the next morning, I feel like I’m awakening from a nightmare. A quick look at my phone tells me it is real. It’s hard to describe my emotions. Shocked, saddened, angry, appalled, astonished—none of these words accurately describe the visceral reaction I’m having. It’s turning out to be a wild November, but not in the way I had hoped.

One way to distinguish a snow goose (Anser caerulescens) from similar species is the characteristic separation of the bill. This trait is often referred to as a smile, or a grin. Snow goose floating in the marsh at Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge, New Mexico. — ***“Snow Goose Grinning”***

There have been many times when the candidate I voted for lost an election. It’s always disappointing, but never devastating. Feeling despair and disgust over an election is something unfamiliar to me. What is it about this man that so repulses me? Why do I feel sick to my stomach when I watch him and hear him speak? And then it hits me. A lifetime of experience has taught me to avoid men with his traits. The arrogance, the vanity, the sexism, the flaunting of wealth, the attitude that he can do whatever he wants and nobody can stop him. I’ve learned to recognize men like this and even before the Access Hollywood tapes, I knew his type. I have encountered this man over and over throughout my life.

He’s the creepy old “family friend” with a comb-over who slipped his tongue into my mouth when I was only thirteen. It happened during one of those super uncomfortable “kiss Uncle Gene goodbye” episodes my parents used to force us into as kids. (Note: please don’t ever do this to your kids)

He is the co-worker who loudly and crudely commented about my body when I worked in an all-male office. He’s the other co-workers who laughed at those comments.

He’s the wealthy businessman who wined and dined me for a month before “proposing marriage.” His conditions were that I keep myself attractive and fit and be at his beck and call for sex. I would maintain an immaculate house appropriate for entertaining his business associates and remain monogamous and loyal to him. He would travel the world on business and have sex with whomever he pleased.

He’s the boss who told me he was considering laying me off, but would let me keep my job in exchange for sexual favors.

He is all the men I’ve ever met who made me feel like a piece of meat with no worth beyond satisfying their sexual desires. And he’s all the men I’ve ever met who get indignant when I don’t consider their lewd behavior a compliment.

Fiery sunrise in the desert near Elephant Butte Lake, New Mexico. — ***“Desert Dawn”***

This is just a sampling of a lifetime of experiences that taught me to avoid men like him at all costs. To hand him the ultimate position of power feels both terrifying and nauseating. I was always taught to respect the Office of the President, even when I don’t agree with the person who holds it. I have to admit I’m having a really hard time with that at the moment.

But, the voters have spoken, and in this country we accept the results of an election even when we don’t like the outcome. I am aware that my personal feelings are mine to deal with. Realizing that not everyone has had the same experiences, I try to focus on the policy positions I disagree with and what I can do about those.

Sandhill Cranes (Antigone canadensis) are known for their courtship dance, which they perform almost any time of year. The object of this crane's affection was busy browsing for something to eat. The lack of attention did not stop him from dancing anyway. — ***“Dance Like Nobody’s Watching”***

I disagree with the plan to rescind the National Monument designation of Bear’s Ears. This matter doesn’t seem very important to most people, but means a lot to me. Having been there and seen the place with my own eyes not long ago, I wholeheartedly support the designation.

I disagree with the idea of building a wall the entire length of the southern border. It’s not because I condone unconstrained immigration. It’s just that in the age of spy satellites and surveillance drones, a wall seems like an expensive, medieval and environmentally destructive plan. Wildlife should be able to migrate freely, regardless of the rules we impose on people.

A flock of sandhill cranes at dawn over Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge, New Mexico. — ***“Sunrise Flock”***

Actually, there are so many things I disagree with, it would be impossible to focus on all of them. I have always believed that if each person were to put some effort into working on the thing that means most to them, each issue would receive the attention it deserves and the world would be a better place. To this end, I have decided that nature, wildlife and the environment is where I will concentrate my activist energies.

A group of snow geese (Chen caerulescens) in flight over Bosque del Apache Wildlife Refuge, New Mexico. — ***“Snow Geese in Flight”***

In all my travels, I have always made a point to visit any National Wildlife Refuge I have been near. Most times, there is an enthusiastic volunteer in the visitor center to answer my questions and help me make the most of my visit. Suddenly, it dawns on me–I could be that volunteer.

Large, old oak reflected in the pond at Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge, New Mexico. Those are sandhill cranes (Grus canadensis) browsing around the shore. — ***“Meet Me at the Pond”***

Finding My Way Home – Glacier National Park

by Loree | Mar 3, 2022 | Finding my Way Home, Mountains, National Parks, The Vagabond Lifestyle

Glacier National Park is the twentieth installment of Finding My Way Home. To view the previous installment, click here . If you wish to start from the beginning, click here. This is the ongoing story of the six years I spent as a vagabond photographer.

A spring storm passing over the peaks of the Rocky Mountains, including Mount Cannon and Mount Oberlin, in Glacier National Park, Montana. Bird Woman Falls is seen in the distance above the lush, green valleys and below the continental divide. — ***“Hanging Valley View”***

A fews years before I took early retirement, we planned a National Park vacation. We narrowed it down to Grand Canyon/Zion or Glacier. I wanted to go north, but I was outvoted and so we went south. We had a great time and I will never forget that trip.

Now, I finally get to see Glacier National Park. I’m going alone rather than on a family vacation. I can go where I want and spend as much time as I like taking photographs, but I will not be sharing the experience with my family (except through photos). This trip will be much different than the other one. While I’m looking forward to the experience, I’m also a bit sad that my kids are grown and there will be no more “family vacations.”

Kootenai Falls on the Kootenay River in northwestern Montana is a vast, sprawling waterfall with many layers and levels. To the right of the main drop, is a smaller waterfall that cascades gracefully over the rock steps. While this cascade is officially part of the main waterfall complex, I have dubbed it "Little" Kootenai Falls. — ***“Little Kootenai Falls”***

I travel across Washington and Idaho quickly (for me), spending only one or two days at each stop until I finally reach the little town of Troy, in western Montana. I decide to spend a week here. It’s a rustic campground right on the river just outside of town. The town itself is tiny (population less than 800), and for the first time since I’ve been on the road, I wonder what it would be like to settle here. The scenery is breathtakingly gorgeous and the people are warm and friendly. Although I’m nowhere near ready to stop traveling, I make a mental note to consider this place when I am.

Photgraphed soaring in a blue sky with only a hint of clouds near Montana's Kootenai River, this bald eagle (Haliaeetus leucocephalus) is truly a big sky eagle. — ***“Eagle in the Big Sky”***

Just a few miles down the road is Kootenai Falls, a spectacular, multilayered waterfall where the Kootenay River rushes over ancient folds of compressed sandstone and shale. It is one of the largest waterfalls in the United States by volume of water. Although I spend an entire afternoon here, I never work up the courage to trek across the famously harrowing swinging bridge. After a climb up to the entrance, I look out over that narrow footbridge in the wind and decide to leave that adventure for others whose legs don’t turn to jelly at the thought of crossing it.

Kootenai Falls Montana in springtime with the rush of melting snow. — ***“Kootenai Rush”***

Unable to decide between the west side and the east side of Glacier National Park, I settled on both! I have reservations at a park in Hungry Horse, Montana for one week, and another week reserved at a park on the east side. Although my stay is scheduled for the last week of June and first week of July, the Going to the Sun Road has only just opened and many of the trails are still closed due to snow. Spring comes very late to this place.

Since I bought the new motor home, I’ve been lucky in finding pull-through or large back-in sites to stay. In Hungry Horse, Montana, my luck has just run out. The site I am assigned is barely big enough for my rig. Not only that, but there are trees on one side and a hedge on the other, which I must place myself exactly between and in the right spot to allow my slides to open and still have access to the outdoor compartments.

The annual spring melt in Glacier National Park, Montana is a sight to behold. The layers of rock form steps, almost like a staircase, for the water to cascade down. — ***“Glacier Melt”***

After about sixty tries, I finally manage to park in just the right place, at just the right angle. I’m exhausted. I chose this park, in part, because it got such great reviews. After a walk around the place, I can see why some people might leave a good review. Some of the sites are roomy, secluded, and gorgeous. My site, however, is not.

When I booked, there were only water and electric sites available (no sewer). They assured me I could use the dump station whenever necessary, so I thought I might use it once during the week and once when I leave. There is no way I am going to the dump station and re-parking in my tight-as-a-glove space again. I will just have to be frugal with my water use and utilize the public showers.

The Going to the Sun Road in Glacier National Park was considered an engineering marvel of its day. Construction on the road commenced in 1921 and finished in 1932. The road is approximately 50 miles (80 km) long and was one of the first national park projects specifically designed to accommodate automobile-borne tourists. Haystack Creek forms an impressive waterfall near this section of the road. — ***“Going to the Sun Over Haystack Creek”***

After the parking task and a walk around the park with Luna, I set out to explore Glacier National Park. For one thing, I can’t wait to see it. But, the main reason I want to go now is because I have designs on doing some sunrise photography tomorrow. I need to orient myself as to direction and distances.

I drive from the west entrance to the top of the Going to the Sun Road. What an amazing place this is! I’m so glad I made the long trek to the far northern reaches of Montana to see it. Even though it’s late June, the snow is still high and deep on the mountains and the spring melt is running everywhere. Most of the hiking trails are closed, except for the ones in the lowest elevations of the park. And while the weather in Hungry Horse is warm and sunny, it is chilly and stormy up high in the mountains.

Bird Woman Falls in Glacier National Park is a spectacular 560 foot (170 m) waterfall. Here it is seen from the viewpoint on the Going to the Sun Road in early June when it is at high flow. — ***“Spectacular Bird Woman Falls”***

After an awe-inspiring ride to the top of Logan Pass, I return to plot the next morning’s adventure. To be at the highest point for sunrise, I calculate that I must set out around 4:30 in the morning. An early dinner followed by a dog walk and early bedtime are in order.

The next morning, I set out in the dark to retrace my route. Just past the entrance to the park, I find myself lost—in a parking lot! It turns out I made a wrong turn at one of the intersections and ended up in a huge empty (because it’s not yet 5:00 am!) parking lot. A bit rattled, I finally find my way back to the Going to the Sun Road.

Just as dawn breaks at Logan Pass, high on the Continental Divide in Glacier National Park, Montana, Reynolds Mountain is bathed in light. For a few brief moments before sunrise, the alpenglow transforms the dark granite peak to orange as the waning moon sets. — ***“First Light at Logan Pass”***

The sunrise is not as spectacular as I had hoped, but there is a magnificent alpenglow on Reynolds Mountain with the moon setting. This alone makes it worth the early rise and dark drive. In times like these, when there are no other people around, I imagine what it must have been like to drink in this beauty before it was marred by roads and buildings.

As my time on the west side dwindles, I find myself wanting to traverse some of the lesser traveled roads outside the park. While the magnificence of Glacier National Park is unmatched, the beauty of being alone in the forest has a special charm.

A hungry cedar waxwing (Bombycilla cedrorum) eating a delicious berry. — ***“Cedar Waxwing with a Berry”***

If I’m being honest, one of the things that drew me to this lifestyle was the idea of disconnecting from society. All my life I have stressed over what people think of me. Not just family and friends, but my employer, neighbors, co-workers and the community in general. A deep sense of shame was instilled in me as a child, sometimes simply for being myself. Living a life of solitude gives me some peace from that anxiety. I can interact with others when I want and not worry how they judge me because I may never see them again.

After my stay in Hungry Horse, and a short trip to Columbia Falls for a couple of new tires on the motor home, I make the two and a half hour drive to the other side of the park. Because of the size of my rig, and the narrowness of the Going to the Sun Road, I must travel around the park rather than through.

Rocky Mountain Bighorn Sheep looking tough. — ***“Ram Tough”***

On the east side, I find myself again in a less than ideal RV park. With no sewer hookup and a limited allotment of tokens for the public showers, I set up in my space. There are just feet to spare between me and my neighbors. This arrangement seems to be typical for the area around the park. Of course, being only a mile or so from the park entrance does have its appeal.

One of the activities I plan to do while here is take a ranger led boat ride and hike. The lakes here are so fascinating with their glacial melt color and pristine clarity, taking a boat trip on Saint Mary Lake seems almost mandatory. It’s a memorable experience and I learn more about the park and its history in a few short hours than I ever could from brochures and websites.

Swiftcurrent Lake is the centerpiece of the Many Glacier valley of Glacier National Park. Here, it offers a mirror reflection of Mount Wilbur. While Glacier National Park is named for its many glaciers, the ice cold, crystal clear lakes are exceptionally scenic. — ***“Swiftcurrent Reflection”***

With a sturdy and reliable new RV, and a growing confidence in myself and my journey, it feels like I am really growing into this new identity. Swiftcurrent Lake in the Many Glacier area of the park is calling me. There is a trail that goes around the entire lake and I can’t wait to hike it.

When I arrive, early in the morning, the lake is glass-smooth. The calm weather is a nice change. It has been very windy ever since I arrived. After a few photos of the gorgeous reflections from the lodge parking area, I set off on the trail.

The historic Many Glacier Hotel was built on the shore of Swiftcurrent Lake in Glacier National Park because of this view. On a calm morning,under a clear blue sky, with a mirror like reflection, it's easy to understand why. — ***“Many Glacier Reflection”***

After about a half hour, I find myself among a group, led by a park ranger, on a nature hike. Being alone has its appeal, but so does mingling with a group, especially in a national park inhabited by grizzly bears. For a little while, I tag along with the group, absorbing the knowledge shared by the ranger. I learn to recognize a couple of the native birds by their call. I also learn that bear grass is not really grass at all, but a member of the lily family.

Grazing in the wildflowers at Montana's Glacier National Park, this Rocky Mountain cow elk almost glows in the early morning light. — ***“Elk in the Wildflowers”***

At a fork in the trail, the group is going right, but to continue around the lake, I must go left. Quietly, I break off and continue my solitary hike. Once again, the reflections in the mirror-like surface of the lake captivate me and I must capture some photos. I find myself walking slowly because I don’t want to be back at the parking lot just yet. I still have a few more days here, but I want to savor this morning.

Mount Wilbur, in the Many Glacier area of Glacier National Park, is a sedimentary mountain created by upheaval through plate tectonics, not volcanic activity, as are most of the mountains in the park. On this morning however, a small cloud formed over the peak, thus making this mountain appear volcanic for a short time. — ***“Volcano Imposter”***

Finding My Way Home – Northern California Coast

by Loree | Aug 26, 2021 | Finding my Way Home, Ocean

The Northern California Coast is the sixth installment of Finding My Way Home. To view the previous installment, click here . If you wish to start from the beginning, click here. This is the ongoing story of the six years I spent as a vagabond photographer.

On a beautifully clear, sunny day at the beach, the breeze picks up a bit of the breaking wave, creating a natural water show along the Pacific coast. — ***“Ocean Spray”***

Oregon state parks have some of the best campgrounds anywhere. Most have full hookups, great locations, and reasonable prices, but there is a stay limit. I have reached my fourteen day limit at Bullard’s Beach in Bandon and must move on. Harris Beach State Park in Brookings, Oregon is my next destination and it feels like a homecoming of sorts. In my previous life, I vacationed at Harris Beach many times. I know the campground, the trails and the beach well. It’s winter and they aren’t taking reservations, so I show up and drive through, looking for an available campsite that has hookups and is big enough for my rig. Chris has gone back to his permanent home, so it’s just me and Luna for now. It’s still gray and gloomy, as is normal for winter at the coast. I can’t remember the last day it didn’t rain. I find an open space and park, trying to situate my door between the deepest part of the puddles. Luna and I take a walk to the registration booth to pay for our two nights here.

Keyhole rock at Harris Beach State Park on the Oregon coast. When the swells come through the hole in the rock, the wave breaks in a perfect half circle. — **“Keyhole rock”**

The next morning I awake to what? Is that sunshine streaming through my windows? I haven’t seen a sunny day since October in Pasco. It’s now December and I feel giddy at the sight of the sun. We spend most of the day walking on the beach and gratefully soaking up the precious warm rays. A chance to restock my groceries at the best Fred Meyer store on the planet also lifts my spirits. And just like that, I’m back on the road again. I’m leaving Oregon and will be spending the rest of winter on the Northern California Coast.

As the sun sinks over the horizon, the view overlooking Trinidad Harbor is transformed. The white clouds are painted in hues of gold and orange as the anchored boats rest for the evening. The trees atop Trinidad Head are silhouetted by the colorful rays. — **“Trinidad Harbor Sunset”**

I’ve reserved my next monthly stay at a small RV park near Patrick’s Point just north of Trinidad, California. When I arrive, I’m pleasantly surprised to find that my site includes a lovely wooden deck that overlooks a large pond on the property. The place is full of travel trailers, but most of them are unoccupied. It seems that this place is used as a second home or weekend getaway for most of the renters. There are a few park model homes that are occupied, but I seem to be the only temporary resident. I’m starting to notice that each private RV park has its own personality. Most places have things to love and things that aren’t so great. This place is very beautiful and quiet, but it’s rather small and on a busy road, so there isn’t really much of a good place to walk the dog, much less a place to play off-leash. So far, I’ve been really lucky as far as finding places to stay with doggie play areas either on-site or nearby. We will make do here and I will learn to check more closely into the dog friendliness of places in making future reservations.

Deep in the coastal redwoods, a fallen tree becomes a host supporting these beautiful orange mushrooms. But the mushrooms have a supporting role as well. Something's been nibbling on them and only the forest knows who. — **“Secrets of the Forest”**

My first mission in this place is to find an available room or cabin to rent so my children can visit me. The motor home is designed to sleep four, but because of my remodel to make it a comfortable full-time home, it’s just too crowded for guests. Plus, I find a guest house with a bathtub. Of all the things I knew I would miss, I never thought the top of the list would be baths! What a treat to soak in a tub, spend some time with my kids, and cook together in a real kitchen! I know I won’t be able to splurge like this often, but I’m thrilled that I can do it this time. We talk about my emotional melt-down over Christmas, and promise to get together whenever the opportunity presents itself, regardless of the date on the calendar. We spend a precious few days together, including a day trip along California’s beautiful Lost Coast, and then they go back to their own lives and I resume my quest to be a better photographer.

Fern Canyon, in Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park, is an amazing place. With 50-80 feet vertical walls covered in ferns, it resembles a hanging garden. Take in the peace and tranquility of the small stream and enjoy nature's masterful gardening as you stroll along the perfectly polished stones. Like taking a step back to prehistoric times, this place on the Northern California coast was actually featured in the movie "Jurassic Park." — **“Jurassic Park”**

With the Trinidad area as my base, I can visit the Redwoods, both Jedediah Smith and Prairie Creek Parks. I also go to the fabled Fern Canyon for the very first time. This is the location on the coast of Northern California that was used to film some scenes in the movie “Jurrasic Park.” I can see why they chose it. I have never seen any place like it. A canyon scoured by a small creek with ferns covering the walls from top to bottom. It’s a truly unique place and I’m glad to have gone even though I risked damaging my car to get there. There are two creeks which you must drive through to get there, with the depth of the water varying depending on the time of year. Luckily, when I go, there haven’t been any recent rains in the area and the creeks are passable in a small car. As much as I love my little Yaris for it’s dependability and economy, there are certain times when I wish I owned a four-wheel-drive vehicle. This is one of them.

The tallest living trees on earth, California coastal redwoods (sequoia sempervirens), truly are natures skyscrapers. — **“Skyscrapers”**

The coastal California redwoods have inspired me since I first set eyes on them. They’ve also been a photographic nemesis ever since I got serious about photography. I adore these incomparably majestic trees with the devotion of a religious fanatic. Yet, their very majesty is what makes them so difficult to photograph. With dizzying heights of up to 379 feet (115 m), the canopy of the sequoia sempervirens blocks most of the sunlight at the floor of the forest, which also happens to be where me and my camera are located. This creates a huge range of light between the bright bits of sky and the deep, dark shadows, which makes proper exposure difficult, if not impossible. The sheer size of them, in addition to their soaring height, requires a wide angle lens, but that creates geometric distortion, which I dislike. Although I find them to be difficult subjects, I cannot stop trying to do them justice. And even if I feel like I could do better with the photos, I am more than satisfied spending time among these extraordinary giants.

On a cloudy day in the California coastal redwood forest, the sun finally breaks through for a few moments, bathing the forest in warmth and light. — **“Breaking Through”**

While I still love landscape photography, wildlife is garnering more and more of my attention. There’s something thrilling about searching for birds, stalking them and trying to do them justice in a photograph. I find myself searching for refuges and wildlife areas each time I arrive in a new place. In this part of the country, I have many options and the birds are abundant in the winter. I love the Humboldt Bay National Wildlife Refuge on the Northern California Coast. I’m learning a lot about what it takes to be a wildlife photographer – mostly through trial and error. Being out there, alone with the birds, is where I want to be. This is on my mind when I start thinking about which direction I want to go for spring.

Red-Tailed Hawk (Buteo jamaicensis) in mid-takeoff. — **“Red-Tailed Hawk Swoosh”**

I’m starting to think about my journey in terms of destinations and routes. I have Zion and Bryce Canyon National Parks in mind as destinations. Now, I look at the map and determine a route. Another thing I’m learning is that the actual traveling is not the fun part. Arriving at and exploring new places is fantastic, but getting there is more of a chore. It’s not just the driving, but also the tear down and set up each time, which I have mostly mastered, but is a lot of work for one person. Because of this, my travel is starting to be shorter distances with longer stays. After all, what’s the hurry?

A Roosevelt Elk cow cleans up her calf. This mother and child were photographed at Prairie Creek Redwoods in Humboldt County, California. — **“Devoted Mom”**

For the Love of Wildlife

by Loree | Aug 11, 2020 | Birds, Blog, Photography, Public Lands, Siskiyou County, Wildlife

It’s been more than a year now since I made the decision to move to the Klamath Basin and work on wildlife conservation, appreciation and awareness. When I decided to take that next step in my life, I knew it wasn’t going to be easy, There is much work to be done in the Basin, and many competing interests, some working with one another, and some against. At the time, I figured being a wildlife advocate in a place where human livelihoods are in direct competition with wildlife interests would be the most difficult task. Little did I know that finding a place to live would be the greatest challenge.

When I swooped in, back in October 2019, I thought I would find a house, settle in for the winter, and get busy networking in order to find like-minded people to work with on behalf of the wildlife here. I was unsure if I would join with an existing group, or try to establish a non-profit or other type group. I just knew that the wildlife here is in need of help. The bird populations have been diminishing for at least a decade since I have been photographing here, and likely a lot longer according to accounts and memories of others. The problem seems to be getting more urgent each and every year.

As autumn began to give way to winter, I worried that I would not find a place to live before the frigid temperatures set in. I went about preparing to spend at least part of the winter in my RV. I joined online groups dedicated to wintering in RV’s in cold climates and purchased specialized items to help. Looking back, the best thing I acquired to survive winter was a heated hose made by a company right here in the Klamath Basin. This thing worked like a champ, even when the temperature got down into single digits a couple of nights.

Winter seemed to drag on forever, but the wildlife was always there, giving me something to appreciate. And, as it turned out, I was able to survive winter in a less-than-ideal situation. I’m rather proud of myself for doing something I never thought I could. As a bonus, I got to see some birds that I may not have had I not been so close to the refuge that I could be there at sunset. The short-eared owls only come out just before the sun sets.

Then, just as winter was waning and the promise of spring seemed just around the corner–a global pandemic happened! Now, house hunting was impossible. Not only was everything shut down, but people were not listing their homes for sale, since no one knew when buying would be happening again. All through February and March, and into April, the real estate industry was in limbo. But, the wildlife was unbothered by any of it, because breeding season was here.

Spring is the best time of year for wildlife, especially birds, so I figured I would just enjoy the natural order while I waited for real estate to open up again. The refuge was bustling with activity and being out with the birds was an excellent way to “socially distance” from humans when it became required. I learned how to order groceries online for curbside pickup, and assumed everything would just return to normal after a few months. As we all know now, I couldn’t have been more wrong.

When re-opening began, the real estate market came back–with a vengeance! Houses were being listed in the dozens per week and they were selling as quick as they hit the market. It was like a feeding frenzy. Being on the bottom end of the market, with a small income and a small down payment, I was left out of the surge. Who knew an economic downturn, record unemployment, and massive business closures would lead to a real estate boom? It sure took me by surprise.

Now, as a new generation of birds has hatched and is maturing quickly, I find myself looking ahead to autumn and again hoping for another opportunity to find a permanent home here. Alas, the real estate “feeding frenzy” seems to have ended, but affordability of homes has diminished in its wake. And, although I am proud of myself for surviving winter in the Basin in a motor home, I’m not really itching to do it again. So, I must consider other options if I don’t find a house in the next couple of months. I may have to leave and return in spring to try again. I may have to consider other locations where the housing is more affordable. I have no idea how this will turn out, but I still believe the wildlife of the Klamath Basin is worth advocating for. I believe that we humans can live and prosper without destroying the animals and their habitat that were here long before we arrived. I believe we can feed and house and clothe ourselves without killing off the other beings with which we share this world. I hope to become a voice for the birds here in the Klamath Basin and spread the hope that living in harmony with nature is not only possible, but preferable. These are my dreams and desires. I have not given up on them. Wish me luck.

Best of 2019

by Loree | Jan 1, 2020 | Best of, Photography, Public Lands, Wildlife

My annual look back on the year. For the first time since I started these “best of” posts, this year’s selection is all wildlife. I did shoot some landscapes over the past year, but none of them made the cut. My photographic emphasis this year was on wildlife, and these results bear that out. When choosing these photos, wildlife behavior is a primary criteria, along with lighting and composition. Habitat is also important. So, with that, I present these photos, which I consider to be my personal best ten of the year. Happy 2020!

10) Black Phoebe Display

"Black Phoebe Display" by Loree Johnson Photography. A black phoebe (Sayornis nigricans) raising its crest and fanning its tail while hunting for insects at the pond. Photographed at Shoshone Spring, California. — “Black Phoebe Display” by Loree Johnson Photography. A black phoebe (Sayornis nigricans) raising its crest and fanning its tail while hunting for insects at the pond. Photographed at Shoshone Spring, California.

Shoshone Village, California, near the southern end of Death Valley, is a very special oasis in the desert. Much restoration of the springs has been done over the last decade or so and the birds are appreciative of the marshes and vegetation surrounding the natural, but scarce water in the midst of the Mohave Desert. I watched this Black Phoebe dart around over the marsh catching bugs. Then it rewarded me with a lovely display of its tail feathers.

9) In a Rush

"In a Rush" by Loree Johnson Photography. One aspect of the courtship ritual for Clark's Grebes (Aechmophorus clarkii) is a synchronized sprint on the surface of the water, known as the rush. This pair was rushing at Putnams Point, Klamath Falls, Oregon. — “In a Rush” by Loree Johnson Photography. One aspect of the courtship ritual for Clark’s Grebes (Aechmophorus clarkii) is a synchronized sprint on the surface of the water, known as the rush. This pair was rushing at Putnams Point, Klamath Falls, Oregon.

Early May of 2019 found me in the Klamath Basin on the border of California and Oregon. I spent a week on my way to volunteer for the Oregon Coast National Wildlife Refuges. The grebes were actively courting at Putnam’s Point in Klamath Falls at the time. I was fortunate enough to catch several “rushes” with my camera. I chose this one because of the wing positions and the visible foot out of the water. My short stay in the area inspired me to move here in 2020.

8) Elegant in Velvet

"Elegant in Velvet" by Loree Johnson Photography. This young bull Roosevelt elk (Cervus canadensis roosevelti) is looking swanky with his antlers in velvet and his mane floating in the breeze. Photographed near Smith River, California. — “Elegant in Velvet” by Loree Johnson Photography. This young bull Roosevelt elk (Cervus canadensis roosevelti) is looking swanky with his antlers in velvet and his mane floating in the breeze. Photographed near Smith River, California.

While volunteering on the coast, I was stationed in Brookings, Oregon, just a short distance from the California border. I made several trips down to one of my most favorite places in Del Norte County, the mouth of the Smith River. On one trip, I encountered a herd of Roosevelt Elk grazing near Highway 101. This young bull obliged me with a stunning pose as the slight breeze showed off his wispy mane.

7) Song of the Meadowlark

"Song of the Meadowlark" by Loree Johnson Photography. The western meadowlark (Sturnella neglecta) is more than willing to give a full-throated endorsement of spring. You can almost hear the sound of its song in this image. Photographed at Honey Lake Wildlife Area, near Susanville, California. — “Song of the Meadowlark” by Loree Johnson Photography. The western meadowlark (Sturnella neglecta) is more than willing to give a full-throated endorsement of spring. You can almost hear the sound of its song in this image. Photographed at Honey Lake Wildlife Area, near Susanville, California.

In April of 2019, I spent some time near Susanville, California and discovered the Honey Lake Wildlife Area, administered by the California Dept. of Fish and Wildlife. This little-utilized refuge was teeming with life in the early spring. The meadowlarks were abundant and active. After many failed attempts, I finally caught one singing enthusiastically and close up.

6) Gull with Sea Star

"Gull with Sea Star" by Loree Johnson Photography. A western gull (Larus occidentalis) carrying a sea star on the beach. Photographed at Harris Beach, Brookings, Oregon. — *“Gull with Sea Star” by Loree Johnson Photography. A western gull (Larus occidentalis) carrying a sea star on the beach. Photographed at Harris Beach, Brookings, Oregon.*

Spending the summer as a volunteer wildlife interpreter was very rewarding and educational. I learned so much about seabirds and marine mammals and had the opportunity to share what I learned with the birders, campers, and beachcombers at Harris Beach. I also learned that Western Gulls not only feed on sea stars, but swallow them whole!

5) Dropping in for a Snack

"Dropping in for a Snack" by Loree Johnson Photography. Although Bonaparte's Gulls (Chroicocephalus philadelphia) are one of the smallest gull species, they are very talented when it comes to fishing. Photographed at Tulelake National Wildlife Refuge, California. — “Dropping in for a Snack” by Loree Johnson Photography. Although Bonaparte’s Gulls (Chroicocephalus philadelphia) are one of the smallest gull species, they are very talented when it comes to fishing. Photographed at Tulelake National Wildlife Refuge, California.

When the year began, I never would have imagined that two of my top ten images would be gulls. But, here we are with two of my favorites being gull behavior photos. This image was a surprise as I was watching and photographing a small flock of Bonaparte’s gulls swooping and diving over the lake. Only later, upon review of the photos, did I discover that I had captured one making a catch!

4) Wilsons Warbler with a Caterpillar

"Wilsons Warbler with Caterpillar" by Loree Johnson Photography. Male Wilson's Warbler (Cardellina pusilla) with a tasty caterpillar. Photographed at Harris Beach, Brookings, Oregon. — *“Wilsons Warbler with Caterpillar” by Loree Johnson Photography. Male Wilson’s Warbler (Cardellina pusilla) with a tasty caterpillar. Photographed at Harris Beach, Brookings, Oregon.*

Many people who camp at Harris Beach State Park don’t realize there is a short, but delightful trail from the campground to the beach that goes behind the bluff and away from the road. The trail runs through a heavily forested area full of songbirds in the summer. It was there I met this cute little bird scoring a big meal. Since it was the height of nesting season, I presume most of that caterpillar was regurgitated for hungry chicks.

3) Home Sweet Nest

"Home Sweet Nest" by Loree Johnson Photography. A mated pair of great blue herons (Ardea herodias) greet each other on their nest at the rookery. Photographed at Stillwater National Wildlife Refuge, Nevada. — “Home Sweet Nest” by Loree Johnson Photography. A mated pair of great blue herons (Ardea herodias) greet each other on their nest at the rookery. Photographed at Stillwater National Wildlife Refuge, Nevada.

2019 was the year I discovered the unexpected beauty of the Stillwater National Wildlife Refuge in Nevada. I had the pleasure of observing this very active great blue heron rookery during the early nesting season. This image is a sweet greeting that happened after one of the couple flew in from the refuge and the partner incubating the eggs stood up. They had a tender moment before switching roles on the nest. If you look closely, you will see that the other nests in the photo are also occupied.

2) Nesting Sandhill Crane

"Nesting Sandhill Crane" by Loree Johnson Photography. A pair of sandhill cranes (Grus canadensis) decided to set up housekeeping not far from a road at Modoc National Wildlife Refuge. As a result, I was able to shoot this image of one of them sitting on the nest from my car with a long zoom lens and no disturbance to the bird. — “Nesting Sandhill Crane” by Loree Johnson Photography. A pair of sandhill cranes (Grus canadensis) decided to set up housekeeping not far from a road at Modoc National Wildlife Refuge. As a result, I was able to shoot this image of one of them sitting on the nest from my car with a long zoom lens and no disturbance to the bird.

Between the Honey Lake Wildlife Area and the Klamath Basin, is the Modoc National Wildlife Refuge in Alturas, California. This wildlife refuge has a small army of volunteers from the local area and afar who are dedicated to the sandhill cranes and their habitat. Over the years, their efforts have paid off greatly, with many pairs returning to nest on the refuge annually. I discovered this nest, viewable from my car on the side of a road, with the help of one of these hard-working volunteers. Since it is a short trip from the Klamath Basin, I hope to return to Modoc NWR this year after the colts hatch for a long-sought-after photo of a baby crane.

1) Eye of the Gray Ghost

"Eye of the Gray Ghost" by Loree Johnson Photography. The male northern harrier (Circus hudsonius) is sometimes called the "gray ghost" because of its overall gray coloring and its elusiveness. This bird was sitting very still on a post, appearing to be just an old, weathered piece of wood when I came across him in the Honey Lake Wildlife Area in Lassen County, California. — “Eye of the Gray Ghost” by Loree Johnson Photography. The male northern harrier (Circus hudsonius) is sometimes called the “gray ghost” because of its overall gray coloring and its elusiveness. This bird was sitting very still on a post, appearing to be just an old, weathered piece of wood when I came across him in the Honey Lake Wildlife Area in Lassen County, California.

My number one pick for this year now has an even more special meaning. I chose this image a few days ago as I was preparing to put together my “best of” post for the year. It is a male northern harrier, aka “gray ghost” from the Honey Lake Wildlife Area. It is the closest I’ve ever been to one of these elusive birds as it was sitting atop an old fence post looking much like a piece of weathered wood as I drove by. I think we both surprised each other at about the same time. But, today, January 1st, 2019, the image became even more meaningful. As part of a new year tradition, suggested by my daughter, the first wild animal seen on the first day of the year is my totem animal for that year. You guessed it, the gray ghost is the first animal I saw this morning. Not only that, but there were two of them flying around first thing this morning–unusual to say the least.

So there you have it. Another year gone by and another top ten. Here’s to a wonderful 2020, filled with the abundance of nature and the fascinating and beautiful wildlife with which we share our journey on this fragile spaceship earth.