Had kind of a funny experience earlier in August.

For a minute there, I thought I might be dying.

Very early one morning on the outskirts of Stonington, Maine (one of my favorite haunts) I parked at a small pond which is known to many local artists. With an abundance of pink, yellow and white water lilies which bloom throughout July and much of August, the pond takes on the appearance of a life-sized Monet painting. The small dirt parking area in front of the pond is barely large enough for two cars, but I was the only person there.

The air was still and the pond was placid; there were wonderful reflections to be found everywhere. Everything was so quiet. Perfect! I set up my camera and tripod in the tall grasses along the edge of the pond and began "working" the scene.

As I switched lenses, filters and tripod positions in between shots, I found an interesting scene-within-a-scene: a green frog sat motionless on a lily pad, its gaze fixed upon a pink and white water lily. I looked even closer and discovered a tiny insect sitting inside the lily; its antennae seemed to be pointing back in the direction of the intensely focused frog. I smiled to myself as I changed lenses to capture this showdown. This might be the shot of the morning, I thought. Don't blow it.

The midrange zoom lens that was attached to my camera was much too wide for this scene, so I reached for my big 300mm 2.8 telephoto. The idea was to fill the frame with both the frog and the insect and to eliminate any unnecessary or distracting elements from the background. I felt there was a sort of story in this photo, open to interpretation, and I wanted to focus exclusively on that.

I worried that the frog would eat the insect or that either one would flee the scene before I had a chance to capture any shots at all. With a sudden sense of urgency, I quickly mounted the heavy 300mm lens on top of my tripod, or at least I thought I did. And that's when I hurt myself.

The telephoto lens (a real beast) was securely mounted to the ballhead on my tripod, but the ballhead wasn't locked into position, allowing the camera and lens "rig" to move about freely. I rested my left hand near the top of the the tripod - right at the base of the ballhead - and began framing, focusing and firing the camera with my other hand when the heavy lens flopped sharply over to one side, crushing my left thumb.

I felt a kind of shockwave all over my upper body. My thumb instantly swelled and throbbed. It hurt badly enough to bring tears to my eyes. Even a sailor would have blushed upon hearing my stream-of-consciousness cursing. There was a lot of blood; the thumbnail was split down the middle. And while I'm not overly sensitive to the sight of blood or minor injuries, I suddenly felt lightheaded and very warm. My pulse shot up. Overwhelmed by strange sensations, I felt a twinge of panic. Something isn't right.

I began to shake and I felt a need to calm down, to sit down. But I figured I should get to the first aid kit which is always packed in the back of my Toyota 4Runner. I dabbed at the perspiration on my forehead with a bloody shirt sleeve, exchanging beads of sweat for smears of blood. Even though nobody else was in the vicinity I didn't want to leave my photo gear on location. Or did I? I couldn't think clearly. For a few moments I didn't know where to go or what to do.

Everything seemed to take on the feeling of a strange dream; a curious sensation of unreality. Wow, this is bizarre. Running on what can only be described as a state of autopilot anxiety, I lifted the heavy tripod with one arm and my heavy knapsack of lenses with the other and stumbled over to the Toyota.

I managed to toss everything into a heap in the rear cargo area. I sat down on the tailgate and shifted my body around to try to find shade. I squinted because everything seemed so bright; every shape had a diffused halo around it. Dialated pupils. I fumbled around for a stack of gauze pads and a roll of medical tape and nervously wrapped up my thumb, which by now had become shades of crimson and dark purple.

My senses seemed heightened in very unfamiliar ways. Everything seemed hazy and bright and coldly distant. This is very, very strange, I thought. My body is overreacting to this stupid crushed thumb. But how bad is this going to get?

I pressed my head into my wobbly hands, trying hard to concentrate. What the hell is happening to me? Am I having a heart attack?

In trying to remain calm, I took stock of my symptoms. I had no chest pain. I could breath without difficulty. And there were no shooting pains in my arms, shoulders, or neck, although I could certainly feel my heart pounding wildly. I pressed two fingers against my carotid artery and estimated my pulse to be around 120 bpm. Take it easy. Just some unplanned aerobics. Your pulse is very fast, but it's steady.

I curled up on the tailgate and watched a fog roll in. Where did that fog come from all of a sudden? It's clear as a bell along the coast. I took deep breaths. A crying seagull circled overhead. The fog enveloped me and the bright sunshine disappeared. Although I was nowhere near a beach, I could hear the sound of crashing ocean waves. And I could hear the notes of a piano softly washing over the sounds of the ocean. The melody seemed familiar but I couldn't pin it down. I could also hear voices accompanied by the sound of clinking glasses. Cocktail party chatter? I couldn't make out what was being said. A summer tent party? I believe lunch was being served.

Everything was dark. So dark, in fact, that it took me a few moments to focus my eyes on what I thought were rusted factory smokestacks. I squinted for more focus and decided that the objects weren't smokestacks, but rather giant tractor wheels surrounded by a cornstalk maze. No, wait. That doesn't make any sense. It's actually a large, dusty cylindrical object. Which...umm...still doesn't make any sense. As my senses gradually returned, it dawned on me that I was lying flat on the ground and staring straight up at the undercarriage of my Toyota.

I slowly pieced together what had happened: I lost consciousness and fell off the tailgate of the Toyota like a sack of potatoes. For how long was I out? I couldn't be sure. I had absolutely no recollection of falling or hitting the ground. I noticed that I was bleeding from a superficial cut on my forehead and I had gravel and dirt sticking to one side of my face. I was thankful that there were no large rocks nearby. Had I fallen onto large rocks as deadweight, I could have easily cracked my skull.

I moved slowly, gradually pulling myself up into a sitting position. I wiped the gravel and dirt off of my cheek and felt around the cut on my forehead. Well, I guess you aren't dead, anyway. The fog was nowhere to be seen. Nor could I hear the seagull, the ocean waves or the summer tent party that I inadvertently crashed.

After several quiet minutes I got up and drove into Stonington. I parked close to the town pier and fished a bottle of ice cold water out of my cooler. I walked out onto a large dock and sat down. Breathing in the summery saltwater air, I waited for the cobwebs to clear out of my fuzzy head. For better or worse, I'm always contemplative on photographic road trips. This particular morning was no different although I was prone to a few more non-sequiturs than usual:

So let's say I dropped dead. That really wasn't so bad, was it? Kind of businesslike. How many hours before anyone would have found me? There wasn't much traffic. Would've been hard to see my corpse from the road, too. Wonder if the person or persons who would have found me before the police investigator and the coroner arrived would've stolen my gear first? What can you get for my camera on eBay nowadays, anyway? Why the hell did I faint? I wonder if I have an underlying health problem. You're in your early 40s, kiddo. The actuary tables begin to turn on you. Better get a checkup. I could really use something salty and sweet. I wonder if that frog-and-insect shot turned out. Hope I nailed the focus. Could have been the last photo I ever took. Wow. I'm really alone. Nobody knows where I am. Ice cream sounds really good right now. If someone published a memorial with my photography, would they choose all of the wrong images? Because that would really suck. But it's not like I'd be around to complain. Guess I should get all of my photos in order. But then they don't last forever anyway. Why am I worried about this? Seems kinda dumb. Coffee sounds good. I should make sure my dog's water dish is topped off before I leave the house from now on. If something happens to me, it might be awhile before anyone realizes he's home alone. A full water dish might buy him a few extra days...

I imagined a brief item appearing in the Bangor Daily News. Not on the front page of course, but somewhere, tucked among other statewide stories about a car colliding with a moose or a drowning somewhere along the coast. What would my obituary have to say about me? Probably not a whole hell of a lot. On that cheerful note, I picked myself up off the dock and steadied myself for the 90 minute drive home.

It had been a very strange morning and all I had to show for it was a headache and a few hundred photos of a pond. My morning was not nearly as productive as I would have liked, and my throbbing thumb couldn't handle the pressure of holding the steering wheel.

But I finally figured out what the piano played as the soundtrack to my hallucinatory dream: "Little Miss Can't Be Wrong" by Spin Doctors. A track which had randomly popped up on my iPod earlier that morning while driving. As I drove home I couldn't shake a nagging question: When I'm dying, can't I go out with some better music? I mean, Spin Doctors? WTF was that all about?

It's funny how the mind works. And I hope mine comes up with a better death playlist for when I actually do kick the bucket. A little Chopin or Liszt might be nice, for example.

* * *

I had my thumb x-rayed that afternoon at a walk-in clinic in Bangor. No broken bones. And a physical exam two days later cleared me of any health problems. My doctor informed me that people can pass out from a massive rush of adrenaline, which is probably what I experienced after I mashed my thumb. A nurse mentioned that the exact same thing happened to her husband as he worked on their house one summer. He managed to pound his thumb squarely with a hammer, and the resulting shock and adrenaline rush dropped him like a sack of potatoes in the middle of his front lawn. "It's a good thing he didn't hit his head on anything when he fell," said the nurse.

Or Exhibit B - a custom printed disc with clean text and a photo from the assignment:

You never get a second chance to make a first impression, right?

Then there's something my mom said to me not too long ago: "You had such nice handwriting when you were a kid, Michael. What happened? I can't read this to save my life. Looks like something a caveman might have scrawled."

So now you know why Mongo love disc printer so much.

PS - I use BeLight Software's Disc Cover (Mac OSX ) for disc layouts and I import my own photos.

Ok, this isn't a toy camera per se. In fact, it isn't really a camera at all. Think of it as a creative extension kit for whatever camera you happen to be using.

Poladroid is a software app (for Mac or Windows) which simulates an old Polaroid camera using whatever digital images you happen to have lying around on your computer. And it doesn't matter if you are shooting the source images with a high end DSLR or a crappy cell phone. Anything goes!

Developed in France, the Poladroid app is very simple and straighforward. I can't tell you how much fun I have playing around with this thing; you'll just have to try it out for yourself. And since the app is FREE, you really have no excuse not to try it, now do you?

Poladroid can be downloaded directly from the Poladroid Project website. Although the app is indeed free, the software developers certainly appreciate donations. If you try the app out and fall in love with it (as I have), chances are you'll be happy to donate at least a modest sum. It's up to you.

Launch the app and a camera icon will appear on your desktop. Drag and drop your digital images (jpegs) onto the Poladroid camera icon and voila! You'll hear the shutter ka-chunk along with all of the whirring and clicking and grinding that the old Polaroid instant cameras were known for.

When I tell you that this app simulates an old Polaroid camera, I really mean it! Even down to the camera spitting out a Polaroid image which slowly "develops" before your eyes. It takes a couple of minutes.

The images will be processed with that vintage "lo-fi" look that you would expect from an old Polaroid. Virtual dust, dirt smudges, scratches, etc. can be added to the final Poladroid image and these effects are added randomly, which ensures that most of your Poladroids are unique in character. (You may also skip these added effects altogether by unchecking them in the preferences panel.) I even add my own "stains" to some of my Poladroided images using Photoshop.

And yes, you can grab a "developing" Poladroid with your mouse and shake it, but this doesn't seem to speed things up in terms of the development time. Did shaking a Polaroid ever speed up the development? When I was a kid I certainly thought so. My grandma used a Polaroid frequently, and I would grab all of the ejected pictures I could get my grubby little hands on and shake them vigorously. I swore it made a difference! But then I also believed that brand new sneakers could make me run faster.

Download the software and give it a whirl. I think you'll find it amusing and you may end up spending more time playing around with it than you anticipated.

The software is simple enough to use. The real challenge is to pick and choose the "right" images for the Poladroid effect. I think you'll find that some subjects really lend themselves to the format while others...well...not so much. But at least you won't waste any film as you experiment. This is fun stuff.

A couple of weeks ago I participated in the Chief Worumbo Canoe Race on the Androscoggin River here in Maine, and I took my Canon G10 along for the ride. I think you can already see where this is going. I had a little accident.

A young woman in a canoe upstream accidentally dropped her life jacket into the river and it drifted towards me. Life jackets are required in most canoe races, and a good life jacket isn't cheap. I quickly leaned out over the side of my boat to fish her jacket out of the river with my paddle.

I handed her the life jacket and she thanked me with a nice smile. I smiled back. "Oh, but now your camera is in the water!" she cried. My smile melted into a professionally pained wince as I looked down to find that my G10, looped around my neck via a long nylon strap, had tumbled over the side of my boat and into the Androscoggin.

Let no good deed go unpunished.

Now before you hand me a dunce cap for taking a nice digital camera out in canoe with no protection, consider this: I almost always have a camera with me when I head out onto the water, and until now my cameras have never flirted with an unplanned visit to Davy Jones' Locker. In other words: I'm usually pretty careful.

It gets worse: I actually had a waterproof case for my camera on board. I...umm...just didn't have the camera in the case at the time. Also, I was distracted by a damsel in distress. Hey, that can happen to anyone!

So why am I writing about this unhappy little incident? To put it as lamely as I possibly can, I don't want you to end up in the same boat. The wisest policy might be to leave expensive electronics behind when you head out into "iffy" conditions or situations, but that's not an option for people like me.
If you're the same way, keep reading.

You can always go out and buy a nice waterproof digital camera, of course. Olympus, Panasonic and Pentax offer a nice line of waterproof point-and-shoot digital cameras, for example, all with good image quality. (Check out the Lumix by Panasonic, the Optio by Pentax, or the Stylus Tough by Olympus).

These cameras are shockproof, dustproof, and waterproof up to a point. But what if you don't want to buy a new waterproof camera? And what if you already have a nice camera that simply needs a little extra protection?

Canon and Nikon (and probably others, I haven't checked) make a series of waterproof housings for cameras such as the G-series and the Coolpix line. They look great, but they're spendy. And availability seems to shift with the tides. One nice thing about many of those "tailored" cases is that you can operate the camera controls while the camera is encased in the housing.

Ikelite is another well-known manufacturer of quality underwater housings for cameras. They have a line of cases for compact digital cameras as well as video cameras and larger DSLRs of course. The Ikelite cases are beautiful! And they're priced accordingly. Check out the list of links below for other case manufacturers.

If I were a serious underwater photographer I would take a long hard look at some of these premium cases, but I'm not David Doubilet. So what kind of camera case do I really need while traveling or while paddling in a canoe/kayak? And what if I don't want to spend a small fortune on a specialized case that I really don't need to begin with?

Pelican makes a series of quality hard cases - their "micro" line is of particular interest here - which have clear tops so you can always see the contents. These cases seal tightly and will hold a variety of small electronics including pocket digital cameras. However, unlike the specialized Canon, Nikon or Ikelite waterproof cases you do lose the ability to operate the camera while it is encased in the housing.

For swimmers and snorkelers, the inability to operate the camera from within the case would be a deal breaker. But for recreational paddlers such as myself it really isn't necessary to operate the camera from within the housing. And the cost of a Pelican case seems like a bargain compared to the fancy custom cases (roughly $20-$30, depending on which Pelican case you buy). They also make watertight cases which can accommodate cell phones, iPods, etc.

Will these Pelican cases float on the water? That isn't abundantly clear. Pelican states that their micro line of cases will float on saltwater. Nice to know, but I'm usually on freshwater lakes and rivers. And although the cases have a built-in pressure seal, they aren't made for diving, according to the instructions. Of course, diver/photographers would likely opt for the dedicated waterproof cases anyway.

The Pelican cases come in four or five different colors, which I think is cool. I like to choose bright red, yellow or blue over the standard black cases. You see, I really want a brightly colored case to stand out as much as possible if tumbles into the murky depths. It's easier to find the case that way, and....OK, that's a lie. I just think the colors are fun!

These cases also come with a lanyard loop through which a carabiner or a line can be attached. That way I can tether the case to my boat, which is something I might learn to appreciate if my boat decides to dump all of its contents - paddler included - into the water.

But the liner inside the Pelican cases, while made of soft rubber, can't be thought of as adequate protection when there is extra space between your camera and the inside "wall" of the case. So I also bought a block of inexpensive "pickable" foam, also made by Pelican, which you use to create a custom cushion around your camera. With this extra padding your camera won't rattle around the inside of the case if it takes a sharp knock.

By the way, for the Canon G9, G10 or G11, you'll want to go with the Pelican 1050 case. I've already sized this out, so trust me on this. And even with a mounting plate from Really Right Stuff attached (see pic above) I can just fit my G11 into the 1050 case. I love RRS plates, by the way. They're great for mounting or removing camera bodies and larger lenses quickly and easily from my tripod ballheads. RRS plates are "finestkind", as they say here in Maine.

Pelican isn't the only game in town, of course. Another company, Dicapac, also specializes in waterproof cases for cameras and other gadgets. I haven't tried any of these cases, but the prices aren't too unreasonable (around $50) and I'm guessing they'll do the trick for general water recreation. They look nice and they come in a variety of sizes.

Don't count on Ziploc bags to keep your camera safe in the water. If that sounds completely ridiculous to you, consider that I actually know a few people who rely on this low-tech approach to keeping their gear dry. Contrary to popular belief, resealable plastic bags will often leak. I've tossed out so many soggy sandwiches from my ice chest over the years it isn't even funny. So if Ziplocs aren't even up to the challenge of keeping a PB&J nice and dry, well....

If you do happen to drop your camera into the water - and if that camera isn't waterproof - try to remove the battery out of the camera as soon as possible. Do NOT try to turn the camera on (assuming it was off when you dropped it). This will likely short-circuit the electronics. Allow the camera to dry out in a bag with a dessicant of some kind to draw out moisture. (Some people use rice.) If you are very lucky, you might be able to revive the camera.

I was not so lucky, so I sent my G10 directly to Canon for repair last week. Turns out the camera couldn't be repaired. It was toast! And the G10 is a discontinued camera, so Canon sent me a brand new G11. I'm very happy with Canon's repair service (USA), and the G11 seems like a great little camera - but I kind of miss that G10. I think that anybody who has a favorite pair of shoes or a favorite pair of jeans can relate to what I'm saying here! But I'll get over it.

I haven't mentioned a thing about high end DSLRs. I do take my big DSLRs and lenses on board when I head out in my canoe or kayak, but that's another topic for another time. I wanted to bang this out for "the average person" who uses smaller pocket cameras on the water, on the beach, ski slope, etc. But whenever I do get around to writing about paddling and photography (in a broader sense) I'll be sure to include my thoughts on keeping your camera equipment safe and dry.

In the meantime, drop me a note if you have any suggestions or tips of your own.

PS - I once read about a photographer who dropped his Coolpix digital camera into a Utah river. He drove around the southwest with the camera tied to his windshield wiper for a few days in an attempt to thoroughly dry it out. He was able to revive the camera...sort of. The sensor was damaged enough to generate strange colors and patterns in most of the resulting shots. It's a wonder it took any shots at all! The photographer actually found these unpredictable results to be rather amusing and sometimes even interesting. I can't find the link to this story anywhere, but other photographers were wondering if they could dunk their cameras, dry them out, and achieve similar results. They may borrow my well-worn dunce cap any time they wish.

My dog hates fireworks and firecrackers with all of the passion and intensity of a brightly burning roman candle. He isn't afraid of the loud noises; he is angered by them. There is no such thing as a relaxing Fourth of July at my place because my dog barks incessantly at each random snap, crackle and pop. It's all the motivation this photographer needs to pack up the camera bag and hit the road.

Not that I'm complaining. As it turns out, I love to photograph fireworks almost as much as my dog loves to bark at them.

Every summer - at least for one week out of the summer - I do a little research to figure out where to go for fireworks displays in Maine. One resource I like to use in my state is the Maine State Fire Marshal's page. They provide a full listing of (legal) fireworks shows based on applications they've processed for "activities of a pyrotechnic nature".

Even if you have no interest in fireworks photography per se, you can check with your state/government website for similar listings just to have an idea of where to go and when to be there.

If you know which businesses handle the major fireworks displays in your area you might want to check their websites as well; they will often have a calendar of booked dates posted somewhere. In Maine, for example, Central Maine Pyrotechnics handles most of the major fireworks shows in the state, and they do a great job.

Fireworks shows are fascinating to watch of course, but static images of beautiful fireworks by themselves - while very nice - often leave me wanting something more. Not to knock images of "standalone" fireworks. If I'm going for something on the abstract side of things with my camera, I'll experiment with just about anything!

But generally speaking, I like to place the colorful bursts and blooms of fireworks within a scene. By giving the fireworks a kind of context, I feel that I can better communicate a sense of place, time, or atmosphere. It's a simple way to tell a simple story.

Coastal towns and villages are my probably my favorite locales for this sort of thing, but just about any place will work. I'm a little choosy when it comes to selecting my locations, but with so many different fireworks shows scheduled in different parts of the state, I can afford to be!

Once I've settled on a location, I make it a point to arrive on site a good two or three hours before sunset. I also make it a point to figure out where the launching pad is located, and then I scout the area for good vantage points, interesting camera angles, etc. It's a good way to previsualize a shot and it's also a way to reserve a space for yourself before the crowds arrive. Nothing draws a lawnchair army quite like a good fireworks show.

Fireworks shows are pretty expensive, which means they're relatively short. This is especially true in smaller towns, many of which have modest resources and smaller donation boxes. So once the show begins, I have a limited amount of time to capture images, and it really helps to have a plan. But I keep things loose, because even the best laid plans will blow up in my face from time to time. Kaboom!

Take last year, for example. I drove to "midcoast" Maine (a one and a half hour drive from my front porch) to check out the Fourth of July fireworks in the beautiful harbor town of Camden.

I sussed out a nice view of the harbor and composed my shots to include a small fleet of windjammers and other boats nestled in the foreground. I was so excited! And then a thick fog rolled in just before showtime. And the fog never left. An hour or so later, the show was canceled. My plans fizzled out like a black market bottle rocket.

But that's life on the Atlantic coast for you, and rain dates are a common occurrence in New England. I took the snapshot above just to illustrate how socked in the harbor was that evening. And it all happened in less than ten minutes!

But as the saying goes, when life hands you heavy fog, make pea soup! Errr....something like that. But most outdoor photographers I know will tell you that the worse the weather, the better the photography, and over the years I've learned to expect the unexpected. In other words, I adapt. So rather than drive home in near-zero visibility, I decided to stick around and "work" the harbor sans fireworks.

I guess most of the bummed-out spectators in Camden were in a state of denial that evening, because so many of them remained in the area long after the official cancellation announcement arrived. They wouldn't leave! And that turned out to be a good thing for me. Children played with sparklers and glow-in-the-dark hula hoops while gaggles of teenagers and adults chatted amongst themselves and on their cell phones. I picked up my camera and got busy.

I'll close this out with some quick notes about some of the technical aspects of fireworks photography. A good tripod is a must. A cable release is a nice thing to have. I shoot at ISO 100, with an aperture of f/8 to f/11. My average exposures clock in at around 4 to 6 seconds.

Focus is set manually because autofocus will often "hunt" for the wrong thing at the wrong time (a smoke cloud, a fading ember, etc.) I usually set the focus to infinity. Also, I seem to use my telephoto lenses almost as much as my wideangles. I like to mix things up with focal lengths. Fireworks always seem larger to me when viewed with the naked eye than they do in my resulting shots.

I usually watch the "tracer trail" of the shell ascend into the sky before tripping the shutter, but sometimes it's cool to capture the burst of fireworks with the tracer trail leading up to the explosion.

Some photographers prefer to capture images of fireworks using the BULB setting in manual mode and others prefer to go aperture or shutter priority. Hey, whatever works. I fiddle with different settings "on the fly" if I notice that whatever I'm doing isn't working.

I like to underexpose the colorful bursts, sometimes by as much as a stop. If you overexpose the fireworks, even just a little, you'll lose edge definition and color. A blue "chrysanthemum" explosion will turn into a fuzzy white blob if your exposures are too long. I don't have a secret "recipe" for fireworks; it's trial and error and constant adjusting as you shoot.

Another old trick is to cover your lens in between bursts of fireworks with a dark card or a hood while your shutter is open in an attempt to capture multiple bursts - and only the bursts - within a single frame. I tried this a few times back in the "olden days" of film with mixed results. It's worth experimenting with, and I know the results can be surprising and beautiful at times but I really don't use this method myself.

Which brings me to multiple exposures. My cameras (higher end Nikon DSLRs) have a built-in feature for "sandwiching" multiple shots into a single frame. The camera calculates, processes and blends these images - up to ten captures - based on the sum values of the exposures. I love to experiment with this feature even in my day-to-day shooting! To be honest, the same effects can be achieved (and with much greater control) using image editing software such as Adobe Photoshop. Either way, it's fun!

At the moment I'm busy with plans for my next trip to the island of Isleboro (home of the Grindle Point lighthouse, the village of Dark Harbor, and John Travolta's summer mansion). I'll have to overnight on the island, catch the ferry to the mainland and then drive to my next destination which will be the coastal town of Eastport.

Eastport boasts the largest Fourth of July celebration in Maine, including a "Grand Fireworks Finale". Sounds promising! The weather forecast also looks promising this weekend, but I'll take that with a grain of sea salt. I have been to Eastport before, but never for the Fourth of July. I have a couple of images in mind and I can't wait to see what happens!

Update 7/6/10: the last two images in this post (of the lighthouse and the fisherman statue) were taken in Islesboro and Eastport, respectively. I had a great time at both sites. The fisherman statue in Eastport was created in 2001 as a prop for a reality TV series which had been filmed in the area. Intended as a temporary "addition" to the town square, the residents of Eastport became attached to the statue and so it remains.

I knew from a previous trip that this statue was right on the Eastport waterfront, and I also knew that the launch pad would be close by, so I had an idea for this particular shot even before I left my house! It worked out even better than I imagined.

Yesterday I took a road trip through Deer Isle, which is one of my favorite regions in all of Maine. I stopped at a familiar spot along my drive on a familiar road to soak in some familiar views. I love to visit old friends.

And then I remembered something a photographer (or was it a painter?) once said: "Whenever you find yourself focused on a particular scene, remember to turn around. Take a look over your shoulder." Taking this advice, I turned around and was pleasantly surprised by what I saw.

A small red house by the sea with a field of blooming lupines in the foreground. Sweet! The general contours of the surrounding landscape caught my eye and I immediately sensed the potential for a nice image.

Alas, I was in the right place at the wrong time. The midday sky was hazy; colors were washed out. I found the overall lighting conditions dull and flat. I took these snapshots with my point & shoot camera for "scouting" purposes only.

I do have some images in mind for this particular scene so I will definitely return to it soon. Hopefully before those lupines wither away!

I've driven by this scene so many times without ever knowing it was there. It made me wonder: how many other wonderful shots have I missed over the years simply because I didn't take a moment to look over my shoulder?

In Ambrose Bierce's classic book, The Devil's Dictionary, Bierce defines the dentist as "a prestidigitator who, putting metal into your mouth, pulls coins out of your pocket."

Apparently my dentist doesn't like to spend his coins on more than two magazine subscriptions at a time. As I sat in the waiting room I was faced with a stark choice between Bowhunter Magazine or Women's Weekly. Had I felt a need to add "pizzazz" to my "love life and/or meatloaf recipes", I suppose you wouldn't be reading any of this right now.

Thumbing through the hunting magazine, I came upon an advertisement for a motion-controlled camera which could be set up remotely in the woods. The ad for the "StealthCam" seemed to target deer hunters in particular, luring them with a vaguely high-tech method of locating the prized buck of their dreams.

I'm not a hunter, by the way. And although I do not consider myself a wildlife photographer in the strictest sense, I know from experience that hunters and wildlife photographers do share many of the same "stalking" techniques when it comes to pursuing their quarry. The ad held my interest, so I read on.

I discovered that this camera (which looked like something that fell out of a military supply truck) operated 24/7 (or for however long the six 'C' sized batteries held out). And because a motion sensor triggers the camera, the ad explained, there's no need for a human operator to wait around for the right moment to press the shutter button. In fact, the camera works precisely because no humans are around to frighten away wildlife.

And because the camera operates quietly, wildlife will not be further spooked by sudden, unexplained noises. The ad went on to promise that digital stills or video could be shot in all conditions thanks to watertight sealing against the elements.

Rain or shine, summer or winter, the self-contained camera does all of the heavy lifting for you! Wow. I decided I had to have one of these puppies, so I vowed to shop for one online as soon as I got home. Another victim of effective advertising? Sort of. I had to overlook the hunting angle altogether, which wasn't difficult because I knew right away that the camera could be used for non-hunting purposes. But more importantly, this ugly gadget looked like fun.

* * *

And it really is fun! There are many different motion control cameras on the market which can be used for wildlife spotting or surveillance. I'm currently using a Stealthcam model which is now four years old, and since that time the image quality of these cameras has improved markedly (many models now shoot HD video in addition to higher resolution still photos.)

And while the image quality from even the best models isn't on par with my professional photographic equipment - not even close, actually - it's certainly good enough for my own amusement. Prices for these cameras have dropped considerably over the past few years too. Yep, I was part of the bleeding edge.

So how do these cameras work? For starters, you set the number of frames you would like the camera to capture whenever anything triggers the motion sensor. You can set the camera to capture stills or video, and everything is recorded onto the same type of digital storage card found in most consumer level digital cameras. The camera also has a limited amount of built-in memory as a buffer, but an extra storage card is absolutely essential as these cameras are often left unattended for days or even weeks on end.

These are lightweight, mobile cameras which can be strapped to just about any tree or post. I use a nylon strap to secure my camera to trees of different thicknesses; others use brackets and cages. And as you can see from my photo below, I typically set my camera low to the ground. The angle of view is quite wide with these cameras and I like to include some foreground for depth and scale. Most of the wildlife which passes through my property here in Maine will be well under six feet in height anyway.

So the camera operation is pretty simple and straightforward. Just set it and forget it, right?
Well...not exactly.

What isn't so clear to the novice is where to set up your remote camera for the best results. I tend to learn through trial and error, and sparsely written Instruction manuals drive me batty. So in order to figure this out, it helps to have at least a basic understanding of the biology and habits of whatever critter you are attempting to photograph.

I do not use food or baits of any kind to lure animals to my remote camera. Feeding wildlife is unethical as far as I'm concerned. Also, I don't want to end up with a bunch of photos that are the result of obvious, unnatural behavior. I'm looking for candid moments of the animals as they are, not as I would like them to be.

So without bait, how do you figure out where the wildlife is hanging out? The answer is to look for signs of animal "foot traffic". Check out trail systems in your neck of the woods. They are often trails for a reason! Telltale signs may also include shavings around the base of a tree, chewed tree limbs or stripped branches on shrubbery.

Here's a snapshot I took last winter to illustrate some typical signs found along a well-traveled deer trail:

Droppings are another giveaway if you know what to look for. I'm reminded of an educational exhibit at my local Audubon center which involved toy animals and laquered droppings: "Can you match the right animal with the right poop?" I never imagined that someday I would apply that knowledge to my photography, but there you have it.

Also look for tracks in the soft ground, in mud or in the snow. If that seems obvious, it isn't really as easy as sounds. The camera by itself can be thought of as science, but the placing of the camera is closer to an art. If one location doesn't work, I'll try another. Results are often a mixed bag no matter what I do, but I like to approach all of this from the starting point of an educated guess.

Many critters are active at night, so this is where the infrared emitter and flash really come in handy. Most of the images I have were captured in the wee small hours. But you never know when something will walk through, and some of my favorite images (such as the doe with her fawn at the top of this post) were snapped in broad daylight.

Being in the right place at the right time is a big part of wildlife photography, so a little research and observation will usually pay off. Having said all of that, animals never cease to surprise me. It doesn't matter how much "prep work" I put into a shoot. They always figure out a way to throw me for a loop.

I've often felt that the unpredictable aspects of outdoor photography are what make it so exciting. Not that it's always a day at the beach. It helps to have the patience of a saint!

Sometimes the camera will fire because heavy winds push around tree branches or weeds. Falling leaves will also trigger the camera. One time a sunrise over a lake was enough "action" to trip the shutter and fill up my SD card with 2,000+ captures of nothing in particular. And any movement of the camera itself will also trip the shutter, which is why the camera must be strapped down securely.

I have many more shots of empty woods than I'd care to mention. But since I have mentioned it, I would guess that for every 500 shots that my wildlife camera takes, only one shot ends up being a "keeper". The editing is pretty straightforward. I either have something interesting to look at or I don't.

Naturally I can't compose the shots as they are being taken, nor can I worry over the lighting conditions. I rarely end up with a photo that actually "works" for me. But when an image does work it is truly something of a miracle. Or at least a string of fortunate coincidences culminating in a happy accident.

And then there are other times when wild critters will trigger the camera but they're either too small (mice) or are too far away (squirrels) or are too skittish to stay in one place for very long (birds). I have found that raccoons in particular are notorious for getting too close to the camera, probably because they are curious and they love to grab the camera with their bandit-ey little hands.

On a few different occasions, unknown visitors of the two-legged variety have scoped out my camera. While this doesn't happen very often (my camera is set up in some pretty remote locations in addition to my own back yard) it can be humorous to find snapshots of people mugging for my camera. A couple of people have waved their hands around trying to make the camera fire so they can figure out how it works.

Others keep their distance and are content to observe the camera by hiding in the shadows or peering through the woods. If that sounds a little unsettling, well....it can be. I have no idea who these people are or why they are on my property. At least nobody has made off with my camera. Maybe they think it's too ugly.

On those occasions when I do find the occasional gem among the "harvest" of motion-triggered snapshots, it never ceases to bring a smile to my face. It's a fun side project for me and I truly love to see what wanders through my back yard. After a night of listening to my dog bark at something unseen in the spooky ol' woods, it's fun to check on the camera. "Oh! So that's what drove Yoshi up the wall last night...."

Fun aside, I haven't fully investigated some of the other possible uses of the Critter Cam. I'm thinking it could be used to engage certain children in spending more time outdoors while learning about the habits of local wildlife, for example. This hobby or project or source of amusement or whatever you want to call it combines the outdoors, photography and even a little computer work into one big "package".

If I'm fascinated by this as an adult, I know for certain that I would have loved to experiment with this as a youngster. If the opportunity to "field test" this camera with a classroom should arise, I'll be sure to update this post with my observations.

In any case, I have plans to set up the camera in other remote areas in Maine and elsewhere, and I'll continue to add the best shots to the "wilderness cam" gallery on this website.

PS - I'm still holding out hope for a multimillion dollar snapshot of that elusive ol' rascal, Sasquatch. I have both the National Enquirer and National Geographic on speed dial. Just in case.

Little Long Pond, Acadia National Park

Welcome to the remix of New England Images!
I know, I know...it's been a little while.

Over the past few years, a small group of friends, editors and well-wishers (you know who you are) have all taken a turn asking the question, "Dude! What's the deal with your website?" Without going into details, I simply wish to offer my gratitude for all of your patience and support.

A few things have changed since the last version of this website. Take this blog, for instance! Some of you may recall the travel notes and journals I posted on the "old" website. I'll archive that material for posterity at some point, but consider this blog a new and improved version of my photographic & travel notebook.

The Wildlife Cam is something I've added just for fun. In my back yard here in Maine, I have strategically placed a remote motion-sensor camera which operates 24/7 to capture candid snapshots of local wildlife. The results are unpredictable and often amusing; I think you'll like it.

Overall, I'm spending more time behind the camera than ever before. I have a number of interesting personal projects in the works for 2010. (Well, at least I think they're interesting, anyway!) I'll write more about all of that here in the coming weeks. Promise.



PS - It's very appropriate that I am relaunching my website in May 2010. This month marks the tenth anniversary of New England Images. While I still can't believe it has been that long, I have just renewed the contract for another ten years! Bad news for anyone who covets my domain name. ;)