Look for the Beauty

With so many abhorrent things being perpetrated by our current administration, I often think of this quote by Fred Rogers:

“When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping'”.

Great Egret on a foggy morning in Florida

She was teaching him a strategy to cope with fear and anxiety by focusing on human goodness rather than on the distressing event itself.

Spending time in nature with a camera in hand is my strategy for coping. Instead of looking for the helpers, I’m looking for the beauty. For the two or three hours I’m out on a walk, I’m totally absorbed in the picture-taking adventure. There’s absolutely no room left in my brain for the scary things to seep in. Even without a camera strapped across my shoulder, time spent in nature is always time well spent.

Great Blue Heron along the Gulf of Mexico

A 2019 study in Frontiers of Psychology found that as little as 20 minutes a day immersed in nature can significantly lower your stress hormone levels. There is, in fact, extensive research across several disciplines including environmental psychology, neuroscience, and epidemiology that demonstrate the significant mental, physical and cognitive benefits of spending time in nature whether you’re in a deep wilderness, an urban park, or your own backyard. You don’t even need a camera to reap the benefits, you just need to be paying attention.

My picture walks have that effect on me. As soon as I’m out among the trees or near a body of water, I experience an immediate sense of calm, especially if I have my camera with me; it makes me pay close attention. For the next few hours, I’ll be totally focused on all the things I see and hear, hoping for an interesting picture or a beautiful shot. It might be a colorful flower, a tiny bird, or an elusive butterfly. When I’m that absorbed with looking, and that absorbed with the whole process of taking a picture using manual settings, the world beyond the reach of my camera completely disappears.

When I arrive home and bring the pictures up on my computer, I’m once again transported to the wonder of it all: zooming in on each plant or creature to see the intricate designs on a butterfly’s wings or the colors around a bird’s eye; the delicate nature of a dragonfly’s wings, or the amazing construction of a spider’s web. It’s all so incredibly interesting.

Just twenty minutes a day…

spent in nature’s embrace…

paying close attention…

…can have a profound impact on your mental health.

Zero Degrees

November 2025

When the morning forecast says “sunny and calm,” I can’t get out the door fast enough to take pictures. ‘Sunny and calm’ means good reflection shots of birds on water. When the morning forecast also says “snow,” it feels like I’ve won the lottery! Even if the temperature drops to zero, I’m out the door! Zero degrees just means more layers!

When layering up for cold weather, my husband Mel, who has hiked the Appalachian trail many, many times, through all kinds of weather, occasionally warns me that “cotton kills.” The first layer of clothing should never be cotton! If you sweat, it won’t evaporate. If you stay wet, you’ll stay cold. You can even die —well, not when you’re out taking pictures and your car is a stone’s throw away, but certainly if you’re a hundred miles from help and hypothermia sets in! I don’t ever worry about hypothermia when I’m out taking pictures, but I do worry about being so cold I have to come home before I’m ready.

**Black-capped Chickadee** *November 2020*

So, my first winter layer is always synthetic. After that, I throw on various layers of wool blends, more synthetics, and maybe fleece. If I think my feet will freeze, I wear toasty warm, re-chargeable socks that came as a gift from a very kind friend. On top of all those layers, I wear windproof or waterproof pants and a warm coat.

Even with all those layers and a good pair of gloves, it has taken me years to figure out how to keep my hands warm and still operate the buttons on my camera. Eventually, I found a lightweight pair of down mittens which are thin enough to feel the buttons but warm enough to keep my fingers from freezing—sort of. I still put rechargeable hand warmers in each of my pockets to make sure.

Then there’s my head, neck, and feet to worry about. I start with a neck-warmer and sometimes a scarf; followed by a cozy warm hat, and sometimes the hood of my coat. Just before going out the door, I put on my hiking boots as well as a pair of waterproof over-boots if the snow is deep or it’s exceptionally cold.

It took me a long time to work out this multi-layer system where I can stay reasonably warm—and still move!

It isn’t quite zero degrees yet, but it will be at some point. On November 8th of this year, we had our first snowfall. A few days later, it was 50 degrees. This coming week, a snowstorm is expected. Such are the vagaries of a Michigan winter and the challenges of dressing for the occasion!

**White-throated Sparrow** *November 2023*

**Red-bellied Woodpecker** *January 2022*

As much as I enjoy capturing a pretty picture of a bird in the snow, I am not a big fan of winter nor am I a glutton for punishment. I don’t like all the dreary, overcast days and the loss of color, I don’t like the freezing cold temperatures, and the lack of butterflies, dragonflies, or frogs. And I absolutely hate wearing all those stupid layers of clothes just to go outside!

That said, I do love the challenge of taking pictures in the wintertime. I love how it feels to be dressed in all those layers on a really cold day with giant snowflakes stuck to my eyelashes and feeling invincible! I love being outdoors hoping for the best picture ever, then coming home after a long winter walk to stand in front of the fire and soak up its warmth.

Most of all, at age 78, I love that I still can!

Troubled Times

June 23, 2025

With all of the terrifying actions of this current administration, my picture walks have become more and more imperative to my mental health. When I’m out taking pictures, I am lost in my own world, focused on those fleeting moments of beauty and joy that, at least for a few hours, give me the illusion of a better world—but even that can be a struggle.

Yesterday, I left the house by 7:00 a.m., before the oppressive heat of the day was expected to settle in, and went for a picture walk hoping to find monarchs, viceroys, or swallowtails flitting about in the fields or perched on newly emerged flowers. They were nowhere to be found!

You don’t have to look hard or long to find proof that we are at a crisis point regarding our butterfly populations.

“A new study published today in Science has found that populations of butterflies across the United States are declining. In addition to dramatic declines for individual species, the study concluded that total abundance of butterflies has declined by 22% from 2000 to 2020. That means that for every five butterflies seen 20 years ago, now there are only four.”

This is both disturbing and alarming. Sadly, the reasons for their decline are all too familiar: habitat loss, climate change, and pesticide use. Almost every creature I love to photograph faces these same challenges. We are stewards of this earth and bear the responsibility for those losses; either through the people we elect, the poisons we use in our own yards, or the habitats we desecrate. It’s on us.

**This Blanding’s Turtle is just one of many creatures whose numbers are in decline due to habitat loss**

On a happier note, my early morning walk was filled with a multitude of much smaller butterflies than the monarchs or the swallowtails– mostly little essex skippers and the slightly larger silver-spotted skippers. I was also delighted to find a large contingent of dragonflies– eight different types to be exact, and one damselfly!

**A tiny Essex Skipper butterfly on Meadow Hawkweed**

**Silver-spotted Skipper on a small Oxeye Daisy**

**Small White butterfly** **on a tiny bit of clover**

The previous day, I had gone on an early evening walk, also trying to avoid the heat of the day and hoping to capitalize on the soft, warm light of the setting sun. Apart from the mosquitoes, early evening is a perfect time of day for nature shots! Everything seems quieter, more relaxed– even the colors quiet down! And there are creatures I rarely see, like sandhill cranes, skittish bunnies, and industrious little muskrats.

**One of two Sandhill Cranes foraging in the early evening light**

**Eastern Cottontail that hadn’t yet noticed me**

**Mama Wood Duck and her eight obedient offspring**

Sometimes, when the whole day stretches before me with no appointments or obligations, I pack myself a snack and go on a ‘field trip!’ Luckily for me, there are at least a half dozen nature preserves within an hour’s drive of where we live and I rotate through them on a regular basis. It’s always fun to go someplace ‘new’ even if I’ve been there before!

**Male Red-winged Blackbird with a damselfly snack**

In the long run, it doesn’t really matter where I take pictures, or what time of day I go, or even if I don’t find something out of the ordinary; it’s the walk itself that’s kept me sane throughout these troubled times, and the connections that have been forged as a result.

Waiting for Wood Ducks

May 5, 2025

I was standing in muck along the edge of a small marsh, knee deep in tick-laden reeds, hoping the Wood Ducks I had heard earlier would return. It was a chilly spring morning and I had underestimated how cold I might get just standing still. Sometimes, though, the sun would peek through the clouds, giving me a brief illusion of warmth, but the cold breeze still cut through me. I pulled the hood of my sweatshirt up over my head, tried not to worry about ticks that might be crawling up my legs, stuffed my hands deep into my pockets, and waited for the Wood Ducks to return.

The marsh was alive with the sound of birds, most noticeable among them were the Red-winged Blackbirds. By belting out their familiar song over and over again, the males were working hard to woo the nearby females. The song of the Red-winged Blackbird is the quintessential sound of spring here in Michigan.

The quiet, less noticeable females were hanging out in the reeds, skulking through the vegetation for food and gathering materials to weave together into their intricate nests.

**Female Red-winged Blackbird with nesting materials in her beak**

A smaller, even less noticeable bird was also flitting among the reeds across from where I was standing. With its subtle coloring of brown, gray, buff, and black, this little bird was well-camouflaged and hard for me to see along the edge of the swamp. I recognized it, though, partly because of its distinctive markings, but mostly from its location. It was a Swamp Sparrow!

While I was watching the little Swamp Sparrow flitting around the marsh, a splash of yellow caught my eye. A tiny bird kept flitting among the reeds so quickly that I had a very hard time bringing it into focus for a picture. The bird in question turned out to be a Common Yellowthroat. Its bright yellow feathers and broad black mask make it one of the most easily recognizable warblers—if you can get it to sit still long enough!

Higher up in the tangle of branches was a barely visible olive gray bird with a white breast. I had no idea what it was so I kept taking pictures, hoping one would be good enough to identify later using one of my birding apps. This one turned out to be a Least Flycatcher.

At this point, it was well past an hour into my vigil, and still no Wood Ducks!

In the distance, I could see a lone Kingbird perched on a reed. With its dark gray back, white chest, and neat white tip on the tail, the Eastern Kingbird looks like it’s wearing a business suit—and this bird is ALL business when it feels threatened! It will readily attack any birds that enter its territory, even if they are much bigger! It’s called a Kingbird for a reason!

About the same time that I spotted the Kingbird, a Great Blue Heron flew overhead!

When I turned my attention back to the marsh in front of me, I saw a pair of Common Grackles perched in another tree not far from the Kingbird. Grackles are stunning birds to observe especially when the sun highlights the iridescent blue feathers on their head. Unfortunately, Grackles are also the number one threat to corn crops. They eat ripening corn as well as corn sprouts, and their habit of foraging in big flocks means they make a multimillion-dollar impact on corn producers.

Another colorful bird that was flitting among the tangled branches and tall reeds was the Palm Warbler. It’s a relatively easy warbler to identify, with its rusty-colored cap, yellow eyebrows, and yellow belly with rusty streaks. These cheerful little birds are migrating through Michigan right now and I love finding them!

I’d been waiting in the muck now for almost two hours and I wasn’t even sure the Wood Ducks would be back before I had to leave. But I had a little more time so I continued to entertain myself watching all the birds going about their daily lives right in front of me mostly oblivious to my presence. At that point, I’d gotten pictures of thirteen of those birds, including a few American Robins, at least one American Redstart, a mewing Catbird, and a few bright yellow American Goldfinches.

Suddenly there was the sound of splashing off to my left! The Wood Ducks were back!! I quickly turned my camera in their direction, hoping my settings were all correct and zoomed in. There were two males and one female and they were already swimming away from me headed for the shelter of the reeds. It wouldn’t be long before they disappeared from view so I started snapping pictures as fast as I could, hoping for one or two good shots. These are such beautiful birds, particularly the males, with their iridescent colors of blue, green, chestnut, and purple; and their contrasting patterns of white around their neck, head and flanks. It would be so disappointing to miss a shot after all this time!

Not only did I have the right settings, the Wood Ducks stayed longer than expected for the photo shoot—AND I never got any ticks! It doesn’t get much better than that!

Finding Refuge

November 7, 2024

Yesterday, in a state of post-election grief, I went to the woods to find comfort, solace, and healing—as well as pictures! It’s my happy place, a place of refuge in both good times and bad.

**One of the inviting trails at Kensington Metropark in Milford, Michigan**

But yesterday it wasn’t just any woods, it was the Kensington woods in Milford, Michigan, where the songbirds are acclimated to people and expectantly perch in the trees along the trail hoping you will extend your arm and present them with a handful of birdseed. I knew the assignment and had come prepared. My pockets were bulging with sunflower seeds, raw peanuts, and dried mealworms—plus a red Tootsie Pop from one of the grandkids in case I got hungry. The tootsie pop, however, was not in the same pocket as the bird food!

**Tufted Titmouse– one of many small birds willing to take food from my hand**

Every time I stopped to take a picture, the songbirds would start flitting nearby expecting to be fed. At one of those stops, a chickadee landed on the far end of my telephoto lens and stared back at me waiting for his handout! (Unfortunately, I couldn’t get a picture!)

**One of the beautiful little Black-capped Chickadees waiting to be fed**

It was impossible for me to resist and I always reached into my pocket for more seeds. In order to get a picture or a video of the birds in my hand, though, I had to sling my ‘real’ camera, with its long 600mm lens and attached monopod over my shoulder, and pull out my cell phone. While I stood there with one hand outstretched with seed and the other trying to take a picture, I felt the occasional bounce of a little chickadee or a tufted titmouse landing on my monopod that was extended behind me like some sort of backwards fishing pole. I had to smile, knowing they were there waiting for me to feed them and trusting that I wouldn’t cause any harm.

**Female Red-winged Blackbird waiting for a handout**

As I stood there feeding the ‘littles’ (chickadees, titmice, and nuthatches), two very tall sandhill cranes came sauntering down the trail in my direction. They were in no apparent hurry, and probably knew that I wasn’t either. I expect they knew that a handout was a possibility, just like it was for the ‘littles’. It’s not particularly advisable to feed them, however, or the chipmunks for that matter. They can get a little too pushy if you don’t hand over the goods! For better or worse, virtually all the critters at Kensington know that humans come bearing gifts.

**Two Sandhill Cranes sauntering down the trail**

The trail I was on at Kensington skirts a small lake called Wildwing. In the middle of that small lake were hundreds of migrating birds swimming about. They were not very close to shore and it was nearly impossible to get a decent picture, but with my 600mm lens, I was able to see American Wigeons, Ring-necked ducks, Red Heads, Buffleheads, Gadwalls, and a large contingent of mallards. It was a birding bonanza!

Along that very same trail, I was surprised to find a large flock of Rusty Blackbirds busily surveying the open ground for food and I quickly pointed my camera in their direction. It’s amazing how beautiful their feathers are when you can see them up close. Rusty Blackbirds get their name from the rusty coloration at the edge of their feather edges that shows up during the winter months.

The trail around Kensington’s Wildwing Lake is 1.75 miles long and, without the need to obsessively take pictures like I do, the average person could walk it in 40 minutes or less; maybe a little more if they stopped to feed the birds several times. I spent five blissful hours!

**The Red Squirrels want handouts too!**

For me, a walk in the woods is therapeutic. Taking pictures is therapeutic. Both are wonderful antidotes to the fear and anxiety that has consumed so many of us over the last several years. The walks in the woods and the picture-taking got me through COVID and hopefully they will get me through the next four years!

**The Sandhill Cranes are always a joy to see!**

**Sandhill Crane checking the ground for spilled seeds!**

Morning Light

November 19, 2023

Note: Most of the pictures in this post were taken on earlier picture walks

I was sitting in my favorite chair at 5 a.m. on this cold November morning, enjoying a toasty fire, drinking a hot cup of tea, and contemplating the day ahead. Every once in a while, I’d look out the window to see if the sun had come up.

By 7:45, I could see just a hint of light on the very top of the trees along the far side of the creek behind our house. I wrestled with my choices for the day– stay warm and cozy inside the house, or go out into the cold November air and take pictures. The conditions were perfect: early morning light, no wind, and clear skies. I thought maybe a northern shoveler would unexpectedly drop by, or that a few wood ducks might swim out from the reeds as they sometimes do, or that a great blue heron would be scouting for fish along the opposite bank. I might even see a rare mink scurrying by. Anything was possible!

There was no choice, really; whether to stay inside or to go outdoors. The morning light beckoned. It would be impossible for me to stay home on such a beautiful day! There was such promise in the air! But, it was only 32 degrees! I wasn’t ready to face the cold! And getting dressed would be a challenge– because cold weather photography, where I might not move for hours on end, takes careful planning. Should I wear two layers or three? Do I need mittens or gloves? Boots or shoes? There were too many decisions to be made this early in the morning!

**All bundled up for the cold on an earlier picture walk**

By 8:15, though, I was out the door. The sun had risen a little higher in the sky, the water in the creek was perfectly still, and I planted myself in the very best spot I could find where the sun would be at my back.

**Cherry Creek in the early morning light**

I stood quietly and waited. The squirrels were scampering through the leaves behind me and running across the branches overhead. Now and then, I’d hear a red-bellied woodpecker tapping on one of the nearby trees. A handful of birds were greeting the new day with their joyful song while a solitary goose flew by.

Not far from where I was standing, I could hear the familiar sound of the male red-winged blackbirds as they flitted among the cattails. They have a short, one-second song that starts with an abrupt note and turns into a musical trill. The females usually respond to the singing males with a chit-chit-chit sound, but I never heard their replies. Perhaps, the females have already flown south for the winter.

**Male Red-winged Blackbird in the reeds along Cherry Creek**

After about an hour of standing and waiting, I took a seat on the bench next to me; my hopes slowly dwindling. There had been no signs of any shovelers, wood ducks, or herons. I would have been happy at that point if even a mallard had floated by!

Eventually, the cold air settled into my bones, and I had run out of things to talk to myself about. I tried, instead, to concentrate on all the different birds I could see or hear in the trees around me, like the chickadees, tufted titmice, cardinals, robins, cedar waxwings, woodpeckers, sparrows, and blue jays. They provided a symphony of songs and a bit of entertainment as I sat watching for the elusive ducks and herons to appear on the creek.

By 9:30, I was ready to throw in the towel and go for a walk in the sun so I could soak up some of its warmth. Before leaving my temporary roost, though, I moved closer to a nearby bush where I had been watching the cedar waxwings gobbling up berries, hoping I could maybe get a picture of them! With all the foliage obstructing my view, it was more of a challenge than I expected!

After managing to get a few waxwing shots (and one fat robin), it was time to move on to more promising grounds. I headed over to the business park next door thinking I would find a red-tailed hawk, a migrating duck, or maybe even a bluebird. All I found were pigeons.

Where was everybody??

It was almost noon and the temperature had climbed from a chilly 32 degrees to a toasty 50. I was so HOT! I had taken off my hat, mittens, and scarf and stuffed them into the pockets of my coat; the pockets that were already jammed full with two rechargeable hand-warmers, one cell phone, and a set of keys. Eventually I had to take off the coat as well and tie it around my waist or I would totally disintegrate from the heat! It was time to head home.

**A big fat Robin enjoying the same berry bush as the Cedar Waxwings**

In the end, I didn’t have much to show for all my efforts: no wood ducks, no hawks, no shovelers, no mallards. It’s always disappointing when this happens, but I just can’t force the birds to show up when I want them to– or to get them to sit still in the right light while I adjust my settings.

On a particularly slow picture day, like this one, I have to remind myself that the most important thing is the walk itself, not the pictures. At my age (76), spending the day outdoors traipsing about is a gift; one that I treasure. Having my camera along, just makes all that exercise more interesting.

And that’s what keeps me going out the door–even on the least promising of days.