Remembering good things

I think as we grow older we put a warmer tone to all things. Each pain has receded further so it is not as immediate, each fondness glows warmer with deeper appreciation.

Stop to think about the first bird you saw which may have triggered your birding hobby or in my case a full blown- totally overwhelmingly lovely addiction. I'll have to think when birding went beyond fun to I can't live without doing things with birds all day every day. It has been a long time ago. I think it was during a really painful period. Hmmm....

But the ideas for this post came with a particular rememberence of my other passion - that for Cardinal baseball. This memory was of a moment with my son- then 9 years old. Danny Cox was pitching for the Redbirds and Josh and I were so excited. The Cardinals won and I recall the feeling of hugging my son with the vibration of thousands of exuberant voices at the final out. This was the first World Series I had been to since Game 7 of the 1968 epic series with the Detroit Tigers. Bob Gibson. That did not end so well but the reversal of those sad memories were being overwritten by a strong positive outcome.

The memory of that total thrill was triggered by seeing the articles in the St. Louis Post on line at stltoday.com/sports about manager Whitey Herzog. Whitey is being inducted into the Hall of fame in Cooperstown this coming weekend. I've now missed two induction ceremonies. Once, I drove over 2,196 miles from Montana to participate as a fan in the induction of one of my true heroes -Ozzie Smith. Ozzie had taken a few moments to go out of his way to show kindness to my family one hot St.Louis afternoon when we spotted him and his then very young son at a game. Heather, Josh and I had retrieved our stuff and were leaving when we realized that my binoculars were not with us. We retreated rapidly to our seats where under the accumulated Bratwurst wrappers and other debris, the pair of 8.5x 42 Swift Audubons were still safe. Checking for other stuff possibly left behind took only a second or two more and Josh had a ball we had caught firmly in his hand. So we finally began our exit from Busch Stadium II.

We reached one of the large common areas when suddenly Ozzie appeared. He literally asked us how the game was and whether we had a good time. Then taking the ball from Josh he autographed it -without any quibble or anything other than the shear joy of being the generous human he is.

But my greatest tearful thrill was that Game 5 victory when Josh and I shared with 55,000 other baseball crazed Cardinal fans. It is one of those very special father and son moments I will never forget.

Craziness in Louisiana part 1

As if the Big Mess were not enough… harassment and restriction of journalist and film makers is also on going.

Intimidation occurs in several forms.

First is direct confrontation. On my second day, I was standing on the side of Hwy heading toward Grand Isle when two large vehicles with flashing red and blue lights came charging up to me. At that moment, I was filming a pickup that had been submerged in the tidal marshes to the north of the road. I was standing on a fairly broad shoulder and was not overly close to traffic or any other harm. My vehicle was on the other side of the road, facing east. One police SUV drove directly to my car and the other came straight at me. This officer jumped out of his SUV and walked directly to me speaking loudly and holding his right hand to his weapon.

I have a camera. Television - standard size with a rather large lens, since I normally do bird filming. This lens of course is a zoom, and can go quite wide too. Moments before I had filmed a Snowy and Great Egrets at a culvert going under a road entering a fenced off but very open building. I have no idea what it is or was.

There was one other thing I found very relevant- a large squarish dome of foam swirling above an inlet submerged after rain. I found the motion to be totally intriguing.

The officer demanded "What are you doing here and do you have identification?"

"I need to see some identification now. You are in a high risk security zone and have a camera. After 9/11 you can not film here."

I bristled at first showing him what I was filming.

This was confusing and almost disorientating to me. I had been filming the day before well down the road in the same port area, where I stood less than 100 feet from an officer, looked like the same guy almost, and had my camera out as well as another crew with 4 members fully operating nearby. On that day I had been directly talking with these guys when asking about beach access. What was the difference?

In the end I provided drivers license and my business card to them. They wrote things down and then left.

But every time a cop then pulls in behind you- you are wondering what is going on? … and a little scared when you are doing nothing wrong.

Intimidation.

There are hundreds of officers doing what they are told and thinking they are doing the right thing for us. But who is in charge?

I was "guided" by other sheriff's deputies to do this, then… that and before long you have spoken to 5 people driven 25 miles and accomplished close to nothing. The light is now bad and the heat is intense. Louisiana is experiencing record heat this June. But a big company like CNN have one person -associate producers who do this thing all day long. They sort through this stuff. I am a one man band, certainly much more efficient but also in a situation like that which is a rarity in my life- less effective than the big boys.

The whole thing is either Chaos or total disorganization. Now we see the mixed up stupidity of state vs local vs federal vs corporate. ONe central authority please. One place for journalists to check in and get daily briefings, one place for press passes, one place for volunteers. They don't all have to be the Same place - just one centralized location.

I'll finish more on this in the next week and the entry will be called Final Straw.

Prairie Chicken Snippet #1

This is a subject bound to develop into a major controversy. Wind developers seek areas which they consider worthless land. Of course, they want to have a peak amount of wind available so they can generate every available amp watt and volt possible.

I want to support "clean" energy but I also have several gut feelings that Big Money- that never seems to really be very ethical nor really very environmental is now securely in control.

Near Ellesworth, Kansas is a huge wind farm located at least 100 miles away from anywhere. Why? Why do development companies pick these areas which are relatively pristine, and begin the process of ruining them?

These huge wind farms cover 30-60,000 acres. The average person sees them, feels good about them, but does not understand the full implications.

If windfarms are situated on native grasslands- those areas can no longer be burned readily. Prairies need fire to prevent encroachment of trees.

We are not certain of all the implications for prairie chickens and honestly- the current data does not show a clear cut negative. But these studies are only very short term. They do not show the long term trends, which could take 20-30 year to become clear.

However, in my mind the placing of the huge wind farm on the ridges of Sullivan county where the last remnant populations of Greater Prairie Chickens are still hanging on, is foolish and short sighted.

Taller towers could be used to catch the same winds, while being placed on lower ridges or even in the farmed bottomlands which are not so critical to the prairie chickens. The maps of Charles Schwartz's original manuscript are conclusive. The density was highest of all in the northern Missouri counties on the long ridgetops with poor soils. These areas were NOT completely tree free and other grasses like bromegrass, red-top (Agrostis) and timothy were common. All of these are introduced grasses, but prairie chickens and the insects they needed to raise young did fine in them.

In our agricultural communities, trends can spread very quickly. If one farmer makes a bunch of money because he planted soybeans, the next year, 20 farmers will be planting soybeans because they need the success too. It is really hard to make money in farming. Of course, with so many more acres planted in the same crop -the prices rarely reach the same levels as before.

The point is long-term versus short-term.

Long-term the soils that form the basis of all agriculture are fairly poor in Putnam, Sullivan and northern Linn counties. They are well suited for growing grasses and are not productive for row crop agriculture. These counties in the 1940's were the stronghold for a species once numbering in the millions-The Greater Prairie Chicken. As the ornithologist, Mark Robbins recently wrote to me… "is everyone going to just stand around while the species goes extinct?"

May 29, 2010-

All of us, yes, all of us, have a space inside where -what ever we were trained with as right and wrong - lives.

So two things are important in this. One is what were we trained with. The other is how much have we listened to this space?

Other people will debate the divinity or the environment vs genetic attributes of this space- but for today, I don't really care about them. Because in the state of Louisiana the largest Oil-related environmental disaster to ever occur is going on before our eyes.

Many years ago, Neil Young came up with the lines in one of his songs "Even Richard Nixon has God's soul". I'd bet even that applies to Bernard Madoff or Tony Hayward. Each HAVE a touch of conscience. I'd bet they were at least exposed to either one of the worlds major religions and thus have at least a basic understanding that there are right things to do and wrong things to do.

Now Republicans are seeking to shift away the blame from the Bush Administration. But they have LONG been the party that seeks to allow businesses to do anything they damn well please.

Dick Chaney held a series of secret meetings widely known to be with energy developers and oil executives in the White House beginning in the first week of the Bush Administration.

How they can fool so many so often is what scares me. Because at this moment, inside of us all is the feeling of despair about this disaster.

And that is why this blog is named Darkest before the Dawn- we are just not that smart a species. Long Run vs Short Run. We are controlled by interests and economics that value only the short run.

Right now how many oystermen in Louisiana are thinking unlimited oil development offshore in waters over a few thousand feet is a really smart thing? What about the shrimpers? Then, what other kind of fishermen are out there in the Gulf? All of them have lost a way to make a living. All of them are now faced with understanding the overriding importance of the environment.

Some how, some way we need to begin to shift to a longer term outlook which puts Our environmental health at the forefront - before short term gain.

Economy is important but taking care of the environment and Long term goals are actually more important.

I hope to be leaving for the Gulf soon to film this in person.

Upper Texas Gulf Coast

In the whole of Birding, migration is a time of importance and sheer enjoyment.

The importance is because birds are moving from the wintering grounds into areas of habitat where over 1000's of years each species has found a way to maintain populations. The enjoyment comes from our ability to find so many diverse species in a short period of time and often in a concentrated location.

High Island is a bump on an otherwise flat plain of coastal marsh and formerly prairie. There are photos that point this out in a marvelous way during a difficult time. After September 2008, when Hurricane Ike cleaned off the Bolivar Peninsula, High Island was photographed so beautifully.

The point of this is to show that from the air, which of course is what migrants see, High Island is the first big clump of trees appearing along the coast. Consequently, when conditions create a difficult night of migration, tired birds head straight for the first trees available.

In the early 1970's, my childhood friend, Peter, my house-mate Bob and I all piled into my Ford Galaxie 500 for an April trip to Texas. As I recall now our timing was slightly early to the upper coast and we continued on to great birds in the Rio Grande Valley.

In 1975, I returned with my wife Katie and we hit a wonderful fall out primarily consisting of Hooded, Swainson's, Black & White, Orange-crowned, and other migrants in smaller numbers. This again was an early fall out being near the 15th of the month.

1976 the Beaumont convention of the American Birding association. Fantastic birding in both Boy Scout woods as well as Smith Oaks. I think the one photo in the ABA of Ken Kaufmann and myself (both of us at that time with very long beards and hair) was taken in either 'the Cathedral' or in a part of Smith Oaks.

This year I raced back down to make sure the film 'The Big Year' would have actual fallout coverage. The rains and storms pretty much passed over with one day of semi-inclement weather. Fallouts were good but noting rivals the numbers found in the mid 1970's and then a spectacular fallout in April 1996.

April of 1996 was amazing. I had just purchased my Sony Digital Betacam in December of 1995 selling the fantastic BVW-400a to go with widescreen 16x9. So with some cash in my pocket the good old Ford Aerostar van and a new camera, Texas in April is golden.

But at High Island, I was able to film such a great number of birds. For a day or so, it truly felt like 20 years earlier. Huge numbers of American Redstart, Tennessee, Black-throated, Green, Magnolia, Chestnut-sided and Warblers mixed with early migrants like Hooded, Black & White Warblers, and smaller numbers of Yellow-throated and Swainson's Warblers. Blackpoll and Blackburnian Warblers were fairly easily found too. Baltimore and Orchard Orioles, Rose-breasted and Blue Grosbeak and Yellow-breasted Chat competed with Gray Catbirds, Swainson Thrushes and other later migrants Scarlet and Summer Tanagers. This footage is now on line at the Macaulay Library - part of Cornell's famous Lab of Ornithology.

So this year, 2010 I had hopes of repeating that golden year. I noted the movement of what looked like a major frontal system pushing in. Leaving Kansas I was pummeled by winds late on the afternoon. I made it only to Oklahoma City before the drive and accumulation of other long days from spring filming took its toll. The next morning found me swamped in Texas traffic needing to be in the woods where I finally arrived. The birds had come in and many reported good numbers and variety. I filmed little dealing with the 1100 miles and a tired body and brain. All the gear and supplies were here now to be ready for the next days.

Unlike 1996 where huge numbers of birds were everywhere, instead, I found myself working a few locations and getting lucky in other ways. There is a Mulberry tree after one enters the gate and before you even get to the Houston Audubon Society's temporary office area. The morning light hits it quite early, the berries were full and ripe so many common and hardy migrants were actively feeding. I got quite excited to see the male Painted Buntings feeding alongside, Rose-breasted Grosbeak. Over the next couple of days, my goal became to film everything that I could in this one tree as the "job" called for birds dripping from trees.

Most migrants passed over High Island moving inland- which is a good thing- But I still filmed species in the one tree.

Late on the day before the afternoon I was planning to leave I wandered over to the old barn. I had been told that all the spaces to photograph had been reserved so I had avoided going over anyway. But, I noticed that some non-photographers were going in and out. I decided to take a peek too. All of the photographers had left- it was about 4 in the afternoon. So I had time to see what might come in.

I slid into the largest window I could find and settled in. Before the gentle afternoon and evening light faded into a darkness deeper than my camera and f/1.7 lens can handle I filmed no fewer than 8 Canada Warblers, 3 Warbling Vireos, a dozen Swainson's, 3 Wood and a Grey-cheeked Thrush, Blue-headed and single Ovenbirds, Black and White Warbler, Hooded Warbler, 2 Kentuckys, and ...

Nashville Warbler, Yellow-breasted Chat, Scarlet Tanager, Indigo Bunting.

Quietly, I filmed the best Great Crested Flycatcher ever, the best shots of Painted Buntings and so many other clips of bathing warblers it was astonishing. I never made it to Sabine Woods this spring.

I think experiencing the chaos and excitement of migration is one of the ultimate highs of Life.

But these amazing migration points offer so much more than just another place to take a lot of photographs of a lot of birds in a short period of time, or in my case a lot of footage. They offer absorption in a movement of life, a great awakening, the opportunity to feel the humility of understanding things we humans have no possibility to do.

There is nothing like High Island, Texas for birding during migration. Well, Magee Marsh, Ohio... Point Pelee and others feature fabulous numbers of birds too but an entirely different mix. So I will say it again- There is nothing like High Island, Texas for birding during migration.

May 2010

How can it be May? Where did April vanish to?

From the blinds and the mini-helicopter to the quick trip to the upper Texas coast, the whole month of April was a blur.

One of the clearest/sharpest parts of that month was spent in blinds filming Greater Prairie Chickens in Kansas. After initially starting out on what was supposed to be the largest booming ground of these birds near Tecumseh, Nebraska, I shifted down to Kansas for logistical reasons after it became clear that there were just as many birds in Kansas and that the Nebraska booming grounds- for whatever reason- were all significantly smaller than either of the previous two years.

On a booming ground north of Emporia, I found a great location with good access and a nice number of males- 24. This seemed to be a good mix of location, nice size (in terms of number of males), only a few hours commute and good back drops. When on one day of shooting- 11 females arrived to look over the "boys", I was ecstatic. It became easy to make a commitment to a specific area.

In a marathon, one's mind needs focus to provide clarity, to monitor muscle and other bodily functions. In so much of the rest of our 'normal' lives this is done on an unconscious level. Becoming a marathoner, during the '90's changed some of this in my life, permanently.

Now my marathons are longer in nature. This film began in 2008 and I did not receive any funding until August of 2009. I made a commitment to this project by taking out a $30,000 loan thinking I would simply repay it immediately when the backer provided the first check. But then the recession kicked in. The first backer was unable to do anything at the time we had both talked about.

Free fall. I have never jumped out of a plane.

The courage and commitment to running those marathons has proved very useful to me in business. I've only made so much money because my heart out races my brain. But the steady pace comes through in the long run.

By mid-April, shooting the aerial footage of the extensive fires from the mini-Helicopter operated so well by Tabb Firchau was complete. Then the High speed camera arrived. This proved to be a major headache and an expensive lesson. I ended up with about 2 shooting days and fortunately the footage looked pretty good. Earlier a single worn-down battery (provided by the rental company) inside a proprietary box that controls important aspects of this beast allowed these horrible grainy bars across the image.

Finally, with only a few days left, after many emails and several phone calls, the problem was solved. Rain and poor weather delayed - I finally got the sunny conditions needed - perseverance furthers as the I-Ching advises. Steady pace- as I have learned.

Suddenly- in touch with post production supervisors from Fox Studios it rapidly became apparent that their advice was incompetent. The shooting for a new feature film the Big Year was due to begin in about 10 days but the contracted crew was not going to show up to a major location until well after the peak of migration had passed overhead.

I was somewhat dumbfounded by this and literally realized that if I hit the coast in time I could rescue the scene because the hired crew- supposed experts- were going to totally blow it.

Before I knew it, I was on my way to High Island, Texas... and that is where the next entry will begin.

30,000 b.i.f.

30,000 is a pretty big number. If I lived modestly at home and traveled little I could get by with that as a salary in dollars. It is probably a lot of pickles, and although I am certain is a LOT of popcorn kernals, I bet it would fit in one or two 50 pound bags-like the ones for sunflowers.

Today, was a lovely day in Nebraska. I am in the south-eastern corner not far from Missouri, Iowa or Kansas. In spite of a short quick trip to Kearney yesterday, tomorrow will be my third day here. I am over budget on the equipment so I am saving by staying in a modest but nice smaller motel.

Day began with a colorful sunrise, but the wispy clouds gave way to a hazy greyness. The birds I was filming did not get the orange glow washing over them. They danced and fought a bit too far away at 120 yards. I could not move but learned about this booming ground.

The small town square is centered on a stunning Courthouse. I arrived about 5 pm and used the warm light to create a feel which I will continue to use as I shoot other courthouses for this film.

Dashing west to get the sunset, I found some abandoned barns and one old corral. These may serve for some night time scenes which I have planned.

The temperature reached at least 52 degrees and while I was filming melting snow... trust me- it will be more interesting than it sounds, I heard in the distance a familiar call. The sky was a deep blue above the yellow and brown prairie grasses. Far overhead, was the first line of several. Honking in some of the most perfect V's I've ever seen, were about 300 Snow Geese. For about 20 minutes (all of which I churned in torment as my camera was locked in a timelapse which I could not change and the second camera was - yes... in the charming motel where I had left it after a late breakfast...) skein after skein of white lines with the scattered blue morph passed over at nearly 1500 feet.

Now I am a counter. I love to know how many birds are in a flock. Over many years I have honed this skill. Lock in a group, rapidly assess the number, then working in "chunks" of roughly equal amounts one keeps a count. But today, it was so beautiful. The deep blue was perfect. The flying geese were in lines and V's and following each was another. Then the waves became wider and more closely packed. The V's merged and separated, but family groups of 2-5 seemed to always stay together. WNW - direct and determined they flew. Next stop- Rainwater Basin. Looking west I realized there were a thousand birds passing over in less than a minute.

While this was not the largest single group of Snow and Ross' Geese I have witnessed , it none the less had a label under it...

MIGRATION

Oh and a sub-heading of 30,000.