As an avid wildlife enthusiast it is always my goal to capture an image of whatever animal I come across and inspire others to appreciate and enjoy natures wonders. Recently I've been focusing on the smaller animals that scurry along the forest floor, showing themselves in the open for only glimpses of time. As y'all can image having everything line up just right (finding the animal, lighting, right focus, composition, etc.) is not easy and very rare. I find a lot of these amazing creatures don't get the attention they deserve, and I'm hoping my photography can change that! The picture above was taken in Washington State, on the edge of the Cascade Mountain range. While going out on a spontaneous day trip to an area I've never explored, I had high hopes for the day. Going out and exploring, I never tell myself that I need to get the shot, or I need to see this animal to be successful. I find nature to be peaceful, relaxing and incredibly therapeutic, good for the soul. On this trip, I drove about 45 minuets from my house and turned onto a gravel road, not knowing where it was taking me. With the windows rolled down, the fresh mountain air flowing through the truck, the sound of the leaves blowing in the trees, passing waterfalls cascading down moss covered boulders. This is a landscape photographers paradise.
I always find it amazing how fast the weather changes in the mountains. What was a crisp clear blue morning sky, quickly filled with dark grey rain soaked clouds. I continued on, thinking maybe it'll pass. I continued on my journey many miles, my truck climbing up steep mountain sides and going up "roads" that resemble dry creek beds, the rain now coming down like I'm standing in the shower, reminding me of the rains one experiences while exploring the Jungles of the amazon.
The "road" continues to narrow, telling me that no one has seen this side of the mountain in a while. The leaves of new growth gently brushed along the side of my truck as I continued on, pushing through the last little hill climb, revealing a small gravel clearing. I parked my pickup, put on a rain coat and stretched my legs. Instinctively out of habit I look at my phone, no service, finally I'm home. I poke around the small gravel clearing, I came across what resembled a trail climbing further into the wilderness. I couldn't grab my camera bag fast enough. An unknown, no name trail, disappearing into the now foggy wooded mountains.
2 miles in, I'm reminded of how I fail to keep up with my cardio training. Winded, sweating, shoes sloshing with every step, mud covering my rear end from a quick slip in the mud. I stop to take a quick break, drink some water and have a light snack. I started to question what I was doing, but I tell myself nothing worth seeing comes easy. I encourage myself to continue on, 100 more yards, 50 more yards, 10 more feet. The distances I was telling myself, "Make it to that spot, that tree, or that rock." After one of the more grueling and steeper hikes I've taken, fighting the rain, the mud, the thin air and the taste of iron in the lungs, I finally make it to the first ridge line.
At this point I have seen no wildlife. Almost like everyone in the mountain knew to shelter in place to let the storm pass. While standing on the ridge, assessing and deciding on what to do next, I pause and watch. The wind was blowing the clouds like a time-lapse across the mountain peaks, only revealing the secrets hidden behind the clouds for brief moments at a time. I look down as see the trail going down (yes, finally downhill, gravity to the rescue!) further into the mountains. Then I see it, for just a brief moment, the mountains revealed a glimpse of water. Not a stream but a big body of water. I waited for a second chance to see more but the fog would not relinquish the hidden treasure that lied beyond. That was enough motivation to keep going, keep pushing on.
The sudden eruption of noise and explosive furry caused me to make a sound I didn't know I could make. My heart skipped a beat and gravity won again as I found myself sitting on the ground, watching as the Brown Grouse I almost stepped on flew off and disappeared into the fog. Staying still and blending into their surroundings is the grouse's main defense against predators. I found myself laughing as I'm pointlessly wiping the mud and gathering my thoughts. Cool, I found some wildlife! I felt bad about startling the little guy, who I can only assume was hiding under the bush to shelter from the rain. I finally grab my trusty Nikon D850 out of my backpack. Attached is my newer to me Nikon 500mm F4. I pull out my second lightweight rain coat and wrap it around the camera. Nikon's already fixed this camera in their factory from rain like this before, I don't need to repeat that lesson.
As I walk down the muddy trail, my footsteps chosen more carefully, I'm enamored by the beauty I'm surrounded by. The trees sheltering the wind, rain drops filtered through the pine needles, birds slowly coming out and singing their songs as the clouds spit out their last bits of rain. I find myself pausing every few steps, seeing composition after composition of old growth forest scenery. Too bad I didn't bring my landscape lenses. But that wasn't the point of the trip, I noted the spot as a place to come back to and continued on. The sun and the clouds continued to do battle over the dominance of the sky, it has yet to be seen who will win the day. Brief moments of piercing sunlight break through and light up the hillside, plants shimmering with the rain drops. This place is magical, untouched for so long.
The old trail slowly brings me closer and closer to that brief glimpse of a lake I saw. Climbing up one more muddy hill, the crystal blue waters slowly start to reveal itself. Surrounded by cliffs that seem endless, the eastern shore opens up to a view of the North Cascade mountain range that only the great Bob Ross would be able to do justice. As I sat there on a wet rock admiring the the disappearing view, the battle that continued over who would conquer the mountains that day, the thick moisture packed fog and clouds or the blue sky and life giving warm sun that lay hidden behind them.
My thoughts and the mountains silence were broken by a small rustle in the bushes a few feet away from where I sat. "Don't move" I kept telling myself, I learned my lesson from earlier, as my heart rate was finally dropping back into normal rhythm. Out from behind this small thicket of mountain blueberry plants strutted another Grouse. Every so weary of its surroundings, her head moving back and forth studying the slightest movement of the leaves and trees ahead of her. I held my breath as she came within only a few feet of me, "too close to get a photo, just enjoy the moment" i told myself. As she slowly passed by and maneuvered through the underbrush, I slowly started to unwrap my camera that was sitting in my lap. With the settings preset before any hike, I knew all i had to do was turn it on and it was ready to shoot.
I slowly slid off my stone chair and got down low, I'm already wet and covered in mud, no sense in trying to keep myself clean at this point. As I lay there on the shoreline of a mountain lake any landscape photographer would dream about, my focus was on the underbrush waiting for this beautiful bird to meander back to where i could get a shot. To my great joy and surprise, this grouse was not alone! She was cleverly scoping out the open shoreline of this unknown lake and clearing the way for her babies to come out. I watched through my camera lens as the timid birds slowly start to appear. One, two, three! Three came walking through, following the same path that momma ensured was safe just minuets prior. Just then, as the sun started to win the battle over the dominion of the sky, the fourth grouse, this one the most timid, appeared. Walking ever so slowly, every step calculated, head on a swivel almost as if it was watching every drop of rain fall. The sun slightly broke through the battle lines, shining a beam of light on this little guy, highlighting this young grouse and creating the perfect opportunity for a portrait.
While this photo is only the slightest moment captured, for me it is so much more. The sense of adventure, spontaneity, hardship, my own personal battle and push to go further, my reminder to get on the treadmill. While some people see just a bird, or a photo of a tree, a lake, a deer, these pictures have so much emotion behind them. Every time I see it, those memories come flooding back in, and continue to give me strength and determination to go back out, explore and find places I've never seen. It's nice to get the photo at the end of the day, but the adventure and experiences are what drive me. I never did get a photo of the momma grouse but I can still see her crystal clear when I look back and think of this day.
Shot with the Nikon D850, Nikon 500F4, settings somewhere around 1/500 with auto iso.