Yellow Flowers in the Botanic Gardens

In the middle of September, I biked to the Botanic Gardens with my macro-filters 

to document the expanse of yellow flowers. I positioned the lens to frame the flowers 

in front of the field ending at the sky so as to create a pseudo-landscape. It was windy 

and nearly impossible to get a focused shot.

Primary colors make for good nature photographs. It aesthetically simplifies a natural

 subject and scene to render the emotion and tone more base and in that sense more 

amusing or appealing. Oodles of sunlight helps enhance primary colors. These yellow

 flower photos are nice.

Glencoe

Taken in September 2012

Undergrowth in the Snow on the Skokie Lagoons

While hiking along the frozen mud slopes of the Lagoons and scanning the barren

 and fog cloaked water for interesting landscape compositions, I was struck by 

the Pollock-like nature of the still green grass splattered over the fresh layer of white 

snow. I raised my lens vertically above the snow and framed-out any colors that did 

not fit the canvas well. I paid more attention to the undergrowth, and later, in a dense

 field of dead grass and broken trees, I crouched to ground-level and attempted at 

warping perspective and thus the viewer's perception of the size of the grass.

The artistic potential of undergrowth cannot be overstated. Especially autumn leaves,

 which themselves create both a portrait and a landscape because of their tones and 

complexity. Ansel Adams has a famous photograph of a leaf that illustrates this point 

well. He even developed it onto a door, somehow. There's something both intricate and

 minimal about the things we step on.

Winnetka

Taken in December 2012

House Sparrow in the Snow on the Skokie Lagoons

While meandering along the shore of the Skokie Lagoons during winter break trying

 to spot any sort of bird, I startled a small host of about seven house sparrows. The 

sparrows flew out from the snow into the branches to watch me, and since they clearly 

didn't want to abandon the area that they were in they sat close enough for me to take

 a few clear pictures. 

It's interesting how something as common as a house sparrow and snowy branches

 can compose a unique design when combined. That's the sort of thing that separates 

wildlife magazine photographers from photographers like Art Wolfe and Michael Nichols;

 where the scene is as well composed as the subject and action-wise both are engaged with

 one another.

Winnetka

Taken in December 2012

Autumn in Harms Woods 2

At the start of autumn I biked to the Chicago River in Harms Woods with my mini 

tripod with a hope that I could create as aesthetically appealing of a photograph of 

the colors and the trees as I had done a year beforehand with my "Stream in Harms 

Woods" shot. It was near dusk so the lighting was poor but the mini tripod allowed for a

 long exposure which augmented the pale glow of the sky. I trekked through the mud 

up to some wetland plants on the shore across from a cliff with the forest elevated on the 

other bank. I spent a few minutes finding a sturdy spot in the mud to stand the tripod and 

took a second and a half exposure.

I cannot believe how long it took me to upload this photo to my blog. I'm proud of how it 

captures the damp, boggy feel of the Chicago River, and also the bright color of the leaves

 in the trees. It's a nice experience photographing in the mud; it sort of artistically 

unifies the photographer with the landscape as to make him understand it more.

Skokie

Taken in September 2012

Ice next to the Skokie Lagoons

One evening during winter break I biked through the cold to the Skokie Lagoons 

and found a nice icy patch on the muddy shore midst where the reeds usually were 

and positioned my camera with its macro filters on the ice. I had gone to the Lagoons 

with the intention of getting a good shot of ice, and the frozen shoreline provided

 that as well as a landscape view tinted by the city's tungsten lights on the horizon, 

which with a long exposure permeated all translucent surfaces.

In the Modern Art course I took over the summer I wrote an essay looking at a painting

 by Marsden Hartley based on an essay by Clement Greenberg, an art critic, where

 he argues that modernism is art coming to terms with its own medium. Based on 

that definition of modernism, Alfred Stieglitz was sort of the first modern photographer

 in that he focused more on what was included in the frame than the quality of the

 subject itself. Personally, I like that definition of photography as being unique in 

that the person wielding the camera can choose what and how the lens captures.

Winnetka

Taken in December 2012

Goldeneyes in the Snow

I went to the Skokie Lagoons several times during winter break to photograph 

waterfowl, and each attempt at photographing goldeneyes--one of the few interesting 

winter birds--proved more unsuccessful than the next. Every time, as I meandered 

closer to the water, the flock would notice me and, alarmed, would rocket out of the 

Lagoon. After one such instance, I hid behind a tree and waited for several minutes 

until four goldeneyes circled back. It was snowing, and as the waterfowl drifted along

 the sheet of ice I captured a few shots of the picturesque scene.

Goldeneyes are neat birds. They look more uniquely designed than any other animal

 I've seen at the Lagoons and fit nicely into the sleepy and snowy winter landscape.

 They are very frustrating to photograph, though; which is an issue. Telephoto lenses

 that are above 300mm are pretty expensive and useless beyond bird photography, so

 there really isn't any lucrative method of photographing birds beyond sneaking up on them.

Taken in December 2012

Glencoe

Wintry Field in Middlefork Savanna Preserve

Because of global warming, the lack of snow has left the wintry prairie 

landscape barren and skeletal. While walking around the Lake Forest half of the 

Middlefork Savanna Preserve on New Years Day, I took a few photographs with

 my 50mm f/1.8 that emphasize the repetitive, wood-colored deadness of the leafless

 trees and dried grass.

After about five minutes of hiking along the path the freezing weather became 

unbearable and I drove home. It's sort of frustrating that forgetting a minor thing 

like a hat disrupted going so out-of-the-way to a place like Middlefork, but I guess 

dressing for adverse conditions is a necessity for nature photography. It never 

really occurred to me until now how the more prepared a nature photographer is 

the more opportunities there are for good shots.

Taken in January 2013

Lake Forest

Light flickering in a Stream near Lake Michigan

There's an excuse for a Winnetka public beach on Lake Michigan with a large pipe 

that pours water into a stream which had eroded a mini-canyon through the sand. 

Because of the snow and the freezing temperature, most of the sand was frozen 

and sheets of ice covered the banks of the stream with icicles hanging over. The glint

 of the snow at noon shot sunlight into the stream, and the sunlight splattered and 

flickered across the pebbles. I carved a shallow crenel at the top of one of the walls

 of the bank and leaned my camera downwards to capture a long exposure of sunlight 

dancing through the water.

Reflections in water is the closest natural thing a photographer has to paint, in that 

if the subject is framed and exposed accordingly the result can look very expressionistic. 

Still, I would not recommend photographing a beach in the winter at noon since the 

sand is like cold concrete and the sunlight's blinding gleam on the snow can be a visual 

disadvantage.

Taken in January 2013

Winnetka

Vine sticking out of the Snow in Crow Island Woods

Throughout winter break, since I woke up late in the day, the early sunset

 forced me to venture on photography expeditions for a shorter period of time than

 I would have liked early in the afternoon. While meandering around the Crow Island

 Woods at dusk looking for interesting small plants interacting with snow to photograph

 with my macro-lens filter, I spotted a gnarled vine raised several inches from the snowy

 ground cover. From an aerial view, its muddy color stood out against the alabaster

 background and produced a minimalist and natural arabesque similar to a third 

style Roman wall painting (I'm taking a History of Art class).

Snowy nature is perfect for macro-photography. The color and texture of the snow

 alters small details in nature so singling in on plants can capture a microscopic artistic

 transformation as the plant conflicts with the precipitation.

Taken in December 2012

Winnetka

Ice on the Skokie Lagoons during a Snowstorm

In the midst of December, I trekked along the muddy banks of the Skokie Lagoon 

near sunset and dusk when gradually clots of falling snow fogged the forest and 

piled onto sheets of ice over the water. It was cold and icy so I had walked to 

the Willow Road Dam and maintained a reasonable distance from that road so

 that the journey home wouldn't be too arduous. As I ventured away from the Dam,

 the sheets of ice produced interesting patterns and the dense forest seemed more 

and more expansive.

Landscapes without a subject rely on vertical gradient and design. When I saw 

the circles in the snow I knew that I was too low to solely fame the photograph on 

the design on the ice and would need incorporate the trees and fog into the composition. 

The branches that hung over me-- always intruding into river compositions-- 

add to the surreal and almost finite scene, creating a ceiling from the viewer's 

perspective. At the same time, the dots leading the viewer's eye towards the dense, 

fog-filled forest is somewhat eerie.

Taken in December 2012

Winnetka

Bobcat at Elawa Farm in Lake Forest

I was too lazy to bike in the freezing weather yesterday, so I just drove to several 

of the places that I would've normally biked to. Since I had time, I drove to 

Middlefork Savannah Forest Preserve in Lake Bluff and spent a half hour 

figuring out how to access the forest preserve with a car. The car entrance led

 to Elawa Farm, an extremely quaint zoo of Midwestern wildlife, similar to 

the Grove and the River Trail Nature Center except more oriented into

 the surrounding landscape.

Nature centers usually have cages with large birds in them, and Elawa Farm 

had a hawk and an owl and a pond for turtles and frogs (which was frozen over). 

What was unique was the bobcat. I was not aware that bobcats lived in Illinois, 

so like the snapping turtle at the Grove it was a nice reminder of how mysterious and 

terrifying Illinois' forest preserves are. It's also interesting seeing Illinois wildlife in 

a cage because it makes something familiar seem exotic. The bobcat, on the other 

hand, didn't really share my sentiments.

Taken in January 2013

Lake Forest

Ice on Maple Beach

At the start of winter break I realized that I hadn't posted anything during December 

(due mostly to an obscene quantity of homework as well as my loss of interest in 

writing about nature photography since I did not have time to do it anyway), so I 

decided to wait out the rest of the month and spend winter break accumulating more 

material. For winter, the biome of the North Shore was set with snow, ice, cold, and

 holiday decor--providing an interesting new scene to explore. Yesterday I travelled

 around to a few places that would have unique wintry landscapes, and stopped by

 Maple Beach in Winnetka to photograph the small ridge of ice which had formed atop

 the sand on the shore. 

The icy water flung a mixture of snow and sand onto the protruding cliff and in the

 top photograph broke off blocks of ice as it burst up the ridge's slope. I went to 

the beach with no intention of capturing that shot but was drawn to it after a trial and 

error process where I took progressively less and less wide angle shots and narrowed 

onto the most intriguing or eye-catching component of the landscape. Even then,

 I crouched in the icy sand and stared through the camera's viewfinder at the spot where 

water seemed to be crashing most for at least ten minutes per crag of ice, tarrying 

until the water splashed to a noticeable height. With the top photograph, I was lucky 

enough to capture the wave actually removing and throwing two pieces of the ice.

Winnetka

Taken in January 2013

Tall Grass in Crow Island Woods 2

While taking pictures at Crow Island Woods during dusk the other day, I placed my 

camera and small tripod a few feet off the trail amid the tall grass and angled the shot 

so that there would be minimal view of the ground. It was cold and although I had to 

bend very low to the ground to compose the shot the sharp undergrowth prohibited me 

from sitting down. It also took me about fifteen attempts to get the framing right.

The warped and atmospheric perspective of the grass shooting upwards is very surreal.

 Because of the jagged and schematic shapes of all the crumpled leaves, it looks as 

though there's a lot of movement. The towering nature of the grass and the perceived

 movement sort of conjure an association with buildings in a city. 

Winnetka

Taken in November 2012

Tall Grass in Crow Island Woods

I checked out a book by Ansel Adams from the library about how he conceived 

40 of his photographs, and for one of his stark landscapes Adams mentioned 

using a red filter to increase contrast. I piled two fluorescent filters and an orange 

graduated filter onto my 18-55mm and twisted a mini tripod onto the bottom of my 

camera and trekked to Crow Island Woods at dusk. I set the camera on the wood-chip

 path and took several low-angle, long exposures of shrubs and foliage. 

Over Thanksgiving break I briefly became obsessed with old photographs and 

spent days venturing across the internet unearthing daguerreotypists (especially 

Roger Fenton and Gustave Le Gray) who artistically documented 19th century events.

 Eventually I organized the best of my findings, from pre-Civil War presidents to 

painted tipis into a blog that I've now abandoned: http://historicalphotographs.tumblr.com

(there are two pages of posts). Either there's something mesmerizing about the quality of 

daguerreotypes themselves or the artistic integrity of daguerreotypists when documenting 

the archaic events and subjects around them. 

Winnetka

Taken in November 2012

Waterfowl at Sunset on the Skokie Lagoons

Several times, when the inner-forest trail on the Skokie Lagoons gave way to

 the water, I spotted waterfowl quickly floating in the opposite direction. Along with the

 typical throng of mallards and canadian geese, there were pie-billed grebes and coots 

(pictured above). Naturally the birds were nowhere to be seen until sunset, where a brief 

window of warm golden sunlight allowed for unique shots.

I like discovering new birds that I haven't seen before. It gives nature hikes a sense 

of adventure. I guess nature hikes are actually really mundane, and so are birds. There's

 no legitimate point to birdwatching or nature photography in general. It probably 

depends more on whether or not you aren't bored to death by exploring suburban forests 

than on whether or not you have a strong bias towards the purpose of recording nature 

that people already know exists.

Winnetka

Taken in November 2012

Chicago Garter Snake on the Skokie Lagoons

For some reason I spent noon till sunset hiking along the inner-forest trails of the Skokie

 Lagoons with my telephoto lens. It was interesting to discover new paths, islands, 

and fields that I hadn't been to before, but as a photography hike there were relatively

 few interesting plants and birds. One exception was a garter snake which wriggled

 through the dry leaves and froze a few feet away from the trail. I spent about five

 minutes taking pictures of the snake from a bunch of different angles as it remained

 frozen, and after I got a few shots that seemed nice enough I went back on my way.

I've seen a few snakes in the woods before, but it was still surprising when I spotted 

this one. They're not dangerous, but in a pretty zoologically vanilla environment it's

 different and somewhat enthralling to see a reptile.

Winnetka

Taken in November 2012

A Muskrat Nest on the Skokie Lagoons

While hiking along the banks of the Skokie Lagoons the other night during dusk, I 

spotted a muskrat. I hadn't had time to photograph waterfowl in a while, and I thought 

that it was late enough in the year that there would be some on the Lagoon, but other 

than a few mallards the Lagoon was deserted. As I passed a collection of reeds next to a

 fallen branch, I heard a splash and a muskrat (what looks like a mini-beaver) swam out 

of the reeds and dove under the water.

I read an article in the Winnetka Historical Society's Gazette about the swamps that 

were around prior to the New Deal, and the diversity of wildlife that was around sounds

 extraordinary. It makes sense that wildlife in Winnetka is now limited to this finite stretch

 of wetlands which is surrounded by major roads and highways, but it's odd how few and

 scattered the zoological population of the Skokie Lagoons is. It's nice to see something like

 a muskrat every once and a while just because it shows that the conservation effort of

 the Lagoons is amounting to something.

Winnetka

Taken in November 2012

Rainy Day on Elm Street

Around a month ago I frantically biked from school to home and back again to get my 

camera and take a picture of a play rehearsal for a paper that would finish being 

edited several hours later. On the way back to school, I took photographs of damp 

autumn leaves littering the streets. I ended up using the top photo as inspiration for

 one of my college essays about how isolated and elitist Winnetka is. 

I probably shouldn't use my camera while riding a bike. I bike so often that I can

 comfortably pedal without holding onto the handlebars, and since I'm so used to 

riding along the side of highways and cars not stopping at stop signs on my way to

 school in the morning (usually moms texting while driving), I feel relatively competent

 with holding up a small plastic/metal box and pressing a button while riding my bike. 

Nevertheless, these depressing shots are quite nice.

Winnetka

Taken in October 2012

Statues in Allerton Park

Another rural Illinois town near Champaign that we travelled to was Monticello, which

 like Tuscola is situated around a grain elevator and railroad. Fifteen minutes past the

 town is Allerton Park, a unexpectedly expansive American Versailles and state park 

with a multitude of classical and Chinese statues. Statues make for interesting subjects

 both as part of a landscape and individually as a portrait so while walking through 

the high walls of topiary I took pictures of statues with a wide aperture for the purpose

 of compositionally isolating them.

I don't see any sense in photographing works of art or monuments or famous sites. 

You always see photos of people huddling around things like the Mona Lisa and 

stretching their point-and-shoots above the throng. I don't get it. Which, of course, doesn't

 mean that I don't do this myself, although when I take pictures of monuments I usually 

pursue a more journalistic perspective to capture an angle that might not have been seen 

or published before by other people. In that sense, it's sort of like turning artwork into 

artwork, if that makes sense.

Monticello

Taken in November 2012

Grain Elevator in Tuscola

My family and I spent the past three days in Champaign and travelled to several

 nearby sites in rural Illinois. One of them was Tuscola, a neat line of authentic, small

 brick buildings situated around a grain elevator and a railroad. Grain elevators are a 

commonplace in southern Illinois and can constantly be spotted along the horizon, but 

Tuscola was my only chance of actually being able to frame a shot of one from a 

reasonable distance (even though I forgot to switch my 50mm to a wider lens and was

 pressured by my family to just take a picture and move along). Most other southern

 Illinois towns are situated around grain elevators, but Tuscola had a diner and a couple 

collectibles shops that were worth getting out of the car for.

There's a very eloquent description that poet Carl Sandburg wrote about grain elevators 

on Chicago's skyline but I can't find it, although I did find a passage in his "City

 of Big Shoulders" poem where Sandburg alludes to grain elevators and railroads 

playing key roles in Chicago's economic rise. In a sense, grain elevators are poetic. 

They're rural skyscrapers, out of place in their farmland setting as grimy, 

concrete, antiquated economic engines for a gleaming city. Like Roman ruins, there's

 something monumentally dead about them that connotes a non-modern (and in this

 case non-urban) labor intensive system which seems altogether alien nowadays. There's 

also the design element to it too, with the verticality of the grain elevators awkwardly

 protruding out of an extremely horizontal landscape.

Tuscola

Taken in November 2012