But in just three short weeks, I have become a smart phone zombie too. Well, maybe not as bad as the under-25 crowd. But still, the grip is tightening. My smart phone is now everywhere I go... even on the trails for weekend runs. And it didn't take long before I began to see the advantages of the phone’s built in camera. I’ve always lamented the fact that I missed so many great nature photography opportunities while trail running.

While in the midst of a 20-mile trail run this weekend at Sandy Creek Nature Center and Park, I broke out my new "essential appendage" and snapped a photo of the rising sun over the trail boardwalk.
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Wow. It actually looked pretty good! What if…? What if I could begin producing higher quality cell phone shots when my Nikon wasn’t available? What if there was a market for iphone nature photography for wallpaper backgrounds? Hmmmmm… could there be a boost in stock photo sales to help with shelter photography expenses?
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Yep. It didn’t take long. I’m “ibrainwashed”. ​

​Wednesday, 12:02 PM – Surprisingly warm today; 69°. A coworker pointed out one of the Red-shouldered Hawks sitting in a tree near the animal shelter parking lot. There are at least one pair of Red-shoulders that hang out around the shelter and ponds. I hear their distinct cries almost daily. On many occasions they’ve been spotted in this same location, perched above a draining ditch that seems to harbor a lot of wild mice.
 
Sure I’ve photographed plenty of Red-shouldered Hawks… and I may have already photographed this same bird! But just because something is common should it be ignored? I’m always fascinated and stop to watch any animal, even if I see it every day.

Tuesday, 8:21 AM – The clouds, rain and wind continue. No way to see the Draconid meteor shower on Sunday. Several downpours last night were enough to wake me out of my sleep. 

A magenta hue to the gloomy dawn as a thick gray cloud layer veils the morning sunrise. A thick, damp, warm foggy air surrounds me as I walk to the upper shelter pond. A Great Blue Heron is barely discernable as it feeds far across the pond on the more wooded end. A single turtle breaks the surface of the still pond to watch my movements.

The “kyeer” screams of Northern Flickers have filled the air around my home and the shelter the last few weeks. Finally able to catch a glimpse of one on the ground near the firing range. It soon retreated up into a tall pine.
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Walking back to the office to commence a day of work, a white Great Egret stands out in the fog as he fishes along the main shelter pond. 

​Saturday, 8:03 AM - On the morning of my wife’s birthday, we took a Sunrise stroll through Fish Haul Creek Park and out onto Mitchelville Beach on Hilton Head Island. The park was just a quick, 2-mile drive from our hotel.

​From the parking area, a wide dirt pathway marked with lines of fresh raccoon tracks lead through a patch of Maritime Forest that was heavily populated by mosquitoes this time of year. Walking quickly to avoid the blood suckers, we came out onto the salt flats. The morning smell of exposed marsh and mud permeated the still air.
 
The mud seemed in motion as hundreds of fiddler crabs crawled in waves in response to our movement. Tiny holes beside small mounds of mud balls dotted the flats. A short wooden dock ending at a gazebo provided a nice sunrise observation point.

​Out on the beach, the sun was rising from off-shore. Not the best for photography, but provided some backlit silhouette shots that were usable after some Photoshop processing. Groups of gulls and shorebirds sat a bit further out on the exposed sandbars. I tried hopping from rock to rock to get closer, but would have to get wet if I really wanted a shot. 
 
As we walked westward on the beach, the sun shifted a bit more over my shoulder, producing some better shots. We followed groups of shorebirds down the water’s edge. One of the most interesting sights to watch was a Black Skimmer doing what he was named to do: skimming his peculiarly shaped, large red and black bill back and forth through the surf, hoping to catch small fish.

Being ignorant of shorebird identification, I just kept firing away and planned to ID later. At least I knew I would be getting new birds for my photography life list. Reviewing the take later, several newbies (for me) were added to the list: Royal Tern, American Oystercatcher, Willet, Black Skimmer and Sanderlings.  ​

​Friday, 6:30 PM – coming back from the off-island outlet malls, I spotted what I had been scanning the skies for since our arrival on Hilton Head Island: a Bald Eagle! This striking bird sat atop one of the electrical towers bringing power lines to the tourist laden island.
 
I’ve only two or three times seen a Bald Eagle; and never had an opportunity to photograph one. I wasn’t going to let this chance pass. Once over the bridge, I turned the car around to go back across. Only one problem: there was no pull off area or shoulder to safely stop and shoot this beautiful bird!
 
Forced to go all the way across off-island, I pulled over and pondered what to do. “You will have to drive,” I told my wife. We switched positions in the vehicle and I prepared my camera. Another problem: I was now on the passenger side and the eagle was off on the driver’s side! More frustrations! About to give up, my brilliant wife said, “Get in the backseat behind me.” Great idea! She really doesn’t share the interest that I have with the birds, but is interested in making me happy.
 
We drive back across, long lens pointed out the back window. I never realized how hard it would be to pinpoint a bird, even one as big as a Bald Eagle, within the viewfinder of a 600mm lens while bouncing up and down in a vehicle! Needless to say, all the shots were blurry and lacked detail. But I got my first Bald Eagle shot!  

The refuge is on the left as you cross the bridge over the Intracoastal Waterway onto Hilton Head Island. It is a well maintained refuge with a long gravel road perfect for walking, running and biking. The mixture of freshwater ponds, Live Oak and palmetto forests, and tidal creek salt marshes sport plenty of wildlife.

We began our walk around 8:30 AM from the well-groomed and wooded parking lot nestled in Saw Palmetto. The gravel drive lined with trees shaded the rising sun off to our right. As we came to the first narrowing in the road, and the thinning of the trees, the low tide revealed the extensive salt flats stretching off to our left and right. Ibises and gulls were foraging across the mud and a tri-color heron hunted in the shadows of the marsh grass.

​The gravel road continued north along the island, passing several ponds, salt marshes, and through a small forest of tall pines reaching into the blue sky and Saw Palmettos at their feet. Along the walk, breaks in the trees revealed fishermen and Little Blue Herons fishing out on Mackay Creek. Several mowed paths left the main gravel road to our right and left as we sauntered. But not wanting to get wet feet from the long, dew-laden grass, we didn’t take any of the side paths.

After a 3.5 mile walk, we reached the end of the gravel road at Clubhouse Pond. Before turning around, we paused at the pond and spotted a young alligator; probably about four to five feet long. Close by was a single White Ibis, busy in his foraging in the mud recently exposed by the retreating tide.

Just before making it back to our parking lot, I found a sad sight: a snake smashed in the road way. Wait, not a snake but a legless lizard. All of my years of reptile hunting and I had never seen one in the wild. I wasn’t too pleased that it had to be deceased when I finally made that life list discovery.
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Pinckney Island is a true gem. While many of the visitors are busy renting bikes to travel the somewhat crowded bike paths of Hilton Head, this wide gravel road within the secluded refuge makes for a much more intimate walk… especially when you’re in town for a marriage retreat! 

​Sunday, 11:45 AM – clear sky, cool, 60°, windy. Hurricane Irma is to hit Florida today. School has already been cancelled tomorrow. A very rare occurrence to have hurricane effects so far inland. During the morning church service, the trees out front were beginning to sway back and forth. Sticks and twigs rain down in the small patch of woods beside the church.
 
Monday, 8:30 AM – work has been cancelled too. Why? The forecast: “Tropical storm conditions possible. Showers and possibly thunderstorms. Some storms can produce heavy rainfall. The greatest impacts from Irma will be felt with winds increasing to 40 to 50 MPH by early this afternoon. Because of the wet spring and early summer, the forecasted wind speeds will easily bring down trees and lead to widespread power outages.”
 
So far a thick, grayish white blanket of clouds sits high in the sky, while swifter moving dark clouds pass rapidly through lower levels. Gusts pass through the trees creating loud rushing noises like that of a waterfall.
 
Monday, 2:20 PM – there is a constant rushing wind with frequent stronger blasts. The rain falls at a 45° angle toward the southwest, but shifts directions and to more severe angles with the gusts. Many of the trees are losing leaves.
 
Monday, 3:45 PM – power is out. The wind is non-stop. Surprisingly, a number of our regular backyard birds are still at the feeder.
 
Monday, 5:50 PM – the power is back on. I hope we don’t lose the Crape Myrtle to the left of the patio and it bends and sways; the root ball looking as if it will erupt from the ground at any time.
 
Monday, 10:00 PM – the winds are decreasing. Made it through the worst with no damage. But there are reports of power outages throughout the state (some which end up lasting several days). 

Friday, 4:13 PM - ​My coworker found a tiny Red Eft crossing the shelter sidewalk earlier on this cool, 60° morning. Not wanting to repeat my mistake from yesterday, I placed him in a cup of water until I had time to get his photographs. (Yesterday I found one and placed it in a cup. Within less than an hour it had dried up and died. Sad.) I took him out to a mossy log and shot him with the 40mm macro-lens. 

So, what is a Red Eft? Is it an eft, a salamander, or a newt? The answer? Yes! There really is no difference. It’s all in the name. A newt is a specific type of salamander; and an eft is the juvenile stage of an Eastern Newt (Notophthalmus viridescens). 

In their terrestrial eft stage, which lasts about 2 years, the little newts travel from one pond to another. Quite a feat for such a tiny little thing, being less than an inch long. Once they complete the second metamorphosis to become aquatic adults, their skin changes from orange or red to yellowish-green but retains the red spots found in rows along the sides.

Labor Day. Monday, 7:34 AM – A very cool 59°. Reading the Psalms in The Message Translation. My fleece jacket helps keep out the first chill of the approaching fall. The dim but clear sky turns magenta as the sun rises. Two hummingbirds have already begun their quarrelling over the feeder. A reddish tan doe breaks through the back woodline to forage seed that has fallen from the bird feeder. She senses my presence and turns to go.
 
A wide beam of bright orange sunrise dashes across the backyard lawn, illuminating a crystalline shine through the dewdrops that crown each blade of grass… a thousand tiny diamonds trapping the sunrise in liquid orbs, sparkling to get out. 

Looking back through my journal, I have now completed one year of journaling. It has evolved. I don’t have a journal entry for every day, but have some sort of entry, even if brief, for every photograph. 

Thursday, 4:03 PM - The dragonflies are quite numerous on the ponds behind the animal shelter. There is a constant flurry of activity amongst the aquatic vegetation. I spotted one such beautiful creature attached to a blade of tall grass. A closer look revealed this dragon was actively devouring another dragonfly!  

I identified this Common Green Darner by the distinct “eye-spot” in the middle of his forehead; much like a mesmerizing female cyclops seductress. Okay, so that is perhaps a dramatic description. Others describe this telltale feature as a bulls eye. The male features blue along the sides of the abdomen while the female features a greenish-gray.

These darners are active and voracious predators that will eat anything they can grab.  They devour other aquatic insects ,including dragonfly naiads, wasps, butterflies and mosquitoes. But their diet doesn’t stay within the confines of the insect order. They reportedly also snatch up tadpoles, larval salamanders, and fish. Adults catch insects in the air and may eat them in mid-flight or on a perch.  They also target prey from leaf surfaces or from off the ground. 

They are very aggressive hunters, constantly on the prowl. However, because of their aggressiveness, this predator can often turn prey. They are exposed and fall prey to predatory fish which break the water’s surface to grab them from the air. And on this particular photo-outing, they were falling prey to a much larger forager: a Great Egret.  
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Once again, the cooperative Egret that frequents our pond allowed me within 25 feet! I walked with it along the ponds edge as it fed. Catching fish? No, not a single one while I observed. But in the 15 to 20 minutes I trailed this wonderful wader, it snapped up a dozen or more dragonflies. Swiftly picking them off blades of vegetation or directly out of the air. ​

Wednesday, 9:21 AM - Houston Texas is underwater from Hurricane Harvey and creating a true disaster for the people that reside there. But oh how have the days turned beautiful for us here out of Harvey’s way. Lower temperatures. Lower humidity. Every day since Saturday has been much more pleasant.

The Yellow Garden Spiders are still quite abundant. My daughter has been "fascinated" by a couple that have built webs in the juniper bushes out front our church. There are still several constructing their zigzag nets each night just over the water of the duckweed bog by the animal shelter. This morning, one particularly bloated gal caught my attention and begged for a photograph. 

Wednesday, 9:28 AM - Heading back to my office after a short walk behind the animal shelter, a Green Heron coursed over the pond and landed on the bank not too far from where I stood. He must not have seen me, or would have chosen a different landing pad. I took a knee, but he quickly spotted me. He cautiously sauntered behind some tall grasses and kept and ever-diligent eye on my movements.

I have spotted them quite regularly on the more secluded ponds far behind the shelter, but this is the first on main, more open pond. Perhaps this one is a juvenile born here and is more accustomed to our presence that his more wary parents.

Later in the afternoon as I took in some fresh air, I could hear his guttural croaks coming from the aquatic vegetation on the far side of the pond. Having encountered them so many times this summer, I have learned their voices.
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Cornell describes their voice in this way: Green Herons give a harsh, explosive skeow call that, once learned, is a distinctive sound of wetlands. They give it while perched, when flying, or when disturbed by an approaching predator. When disturbed at the nest they use a series of raspy clucks, kuk-kuk-kuk-kuk. They also give grating screams.

My first look through the viewing glasses was at 1:18 PM. Wow! You can actually see it. A small dark, rounded edge of the moon was passing over the upper right edge of the sun. I went in and out of my office repeatedly over the next several hours making sketches of the eclipse progress.
 
At approximately 2 PM, I could notice it getting a bit dimmer outside. By 2:20 it was noticeably dim, like wearing light sunglasses. And at the maximum, it was clearly much dimmer than normal. It was like late evening, but quite different. The long-shadows and ‘golden hour’ glow of evening were missing though it wasn’t as bright as midday.
 
I wasn’t planning any photographs because I had read a special solar filter was needed. But when a coworker took a somewhat successful shot with his iphone, and didn’t burn up its sensor, I decided to try. I set my camera on a tripod and put a polarizer on my 300mm lens.
 
Using live-view, I centered the sun in the frame and focused to infinity. With ISO set to 100, I choose a ridiculously fast shutter speed of 1/2000 seconds, and a tiny aperture of f/36. It worked. I was able to document the eclipse well enough and not burn up the sensor on my camera! Several shots looked like a detail-less banana on a black background. The most interesting shots were when the sun passed under the edge of a cloud. ​

​Friday, 9:16 AM - Hot, hot, hot and humid. Each day has been a replay of the last: highs around 90°, humidity through the roof. This has been a pretty stressful week with some employee squabbles, a high maintenance “service dog” situation, and a neighborhood in an uproar over a pitbull attacking another dog. Thank God it is Friday, and that it is starting out quieter than the rest of the week.
 
I grabbed my wildlife lens and took a quick walk up to the shelter pond in the rising sun to boost my vitamin D and get off my butt. A Great Egret was fishing on the main pond. Perhaps this is the same bird I shot back on August 10 and 11 on the upper pond? It is not at all skittish and I walked the perimeter of the pond with him. Even approaching within 40 feet, he still kept to his business of spearing small fish and snapping up dragon flies.

It was fun to watch as some small prey would catch his eye. He would stiffen up, but shuffle his neck back and forth in a serpent-like fashion. If the critter was in range, he’d strike.
 
We walked the entire back side of the pond together. As he turned the corner at the far end, the sun was no longer hitting him from the right direction so I went back to my office to get to work. ​