This brings to mind a Jimmy Buffett song...

....... its a lot like Gumbo you never know when you are going to get it next. But, of course, you may not know what to do with it when you do get it. Clearly this Chipmunk does have some questions about what this is and what to do with it next, but it is clearly worthy of worship. Beyond the humor of the scene, and photographers find humor in odd places, it demonstrates what the Nikon 300mm, f4, handheld can do on the D3. Exposure was ISO 800, f5, 125s. And after a long day of up and down hiking. I am not sure when I am going to be able to do this next!

Picture Perfect Weekend

We were able to combine a family visit with two days of hiking in Ricketts Glen State Park in Pennsylvania and the surrounding area. A very wet Spring has left the streams full and the waterfalls as good as they get. There of these four photos were HDR shots. The second photo was a single image processed with Topez Adjust. Looking forward to returning in the Fall.

Ride To Honor

If you spend anytime around Washington, DC, you get use to the large groups of motorcycle riders that appear at memorial services for fallen law enforcement officers, funerals for service men and women killed on active duty and the largest of all event the Rolling Thunder ride to honor those who died in Vietnam or the POWs and MIAs who never returned home. If you only see them in your rear view mirror they can appear more than a little frightening and intimidating. Large bikes, black leather and roaring engines. This image disappears entirely if you get a chance to meet them and talk to them - and more of us should go out of our way to do so. I was fortunate this week while joining Don Harper to shoot for the family a funeral of a young Marine who lost his life this month in Anbar, Iraq to have a chance to talk to a few of these riders, some of whom are shown here. There bikes may be big, but they are down right gentle and gentlemen. The honor and respect that they make time to show to the families of the fallen is moving and humbling to those of us who seldom pause to reflect on the sacrifice that, for example in this week's funeral, a newly widowed mother with two young children has made. Next time I see a bunch of roaring "Hogs" in my rear view mirror, I will see a far different image than before.

The Last Ride

This too is from Tuesday's funeral at Arlington National Cemetery. It really doesn't matter how many times I have been able to photograph funerals and memorial services at Arlington, I still feel the same rush and appreciation for the care and respect with which the military units carry out their duties on this hallowed ground. And if you want to see vivid greens, unenhanced by Photoshop magic, now is the time to come to Washignton. Ten days of rain has turned the area into a lush tropical environment.

Care, Honor, Remember

In the midst of horrible weather - unless you were an amphibian - we had a break on Tuesday morning. As fate would have it, this would coincide with Don Harper having an assignment to shot a memorial service at Arlington National Cemetery, and I was able to tag along as a second shooter. While we expected showers, and who wouldn't with heavy overcast and the previous seven days of rain. By mid-morning, however, the clouds had not disappeared, but brightened considerably. The result was incredible light for shooting. The lush greens - and they were very lush after all this rain - glowed. No harsh shadows as you often find at Arlington on sunny days. The Old Guard, the 3rd US Infantry Regiment, performs the honors at the Tomb of the Unknows at Arlington National Cemetery as well as carries out the escort honors for deceased Army service members. I am always impressed with the care with which they carry out their preparations as well as there escort service. And they do it with the same care regardless of the weather. The blog photo is an example of this care and also of the fact that in peace or combat you depend upon your fellow soldiers - a fact that is hammered home from the first day of boot camp. Not a duty, but a requirement for survival.