Month: April 2014

Ever since I learned about symbiotic relationships in sophomore biology decades ago, I have been struck by the larger meaning of the concept. I remember learning that parasites live “on” their hosts and sometimes harm or kill them. But organisms like this ivy plant live “with” their hosts and often enhance the lives of both host and guest.

The broader implications about human populations are important considerations. Do we live symbiotically with “mother Earth?” Or are we parasites? Do we live symbiotically with our fellow humans? Or are we parasites? And so on.

Sorry if all of this seems too philosophical today. You could just take this photo at face value: a single focused ivy leaf enjoying early morning sunlight on a beautiful April morning in the Maryland countryside.

Canon 5DIII 1/320s f/2.8 ISO250 100mm

By Scott Shephard

I was “road hunting” on my last morning in the Maryland countryside yesterday. By road hunting I mean that I drive slowly along mostly deserted roads with my camera ready, looking for something worth “shooting.” (In South Dakota, road hunting is a name for one method of hunting pheasants.)

As I turned the car around at a cul de sac, I noticed a dead tree that had been colonized by something that had an interesting texture and color. I put the macro lens on my camera, got out of the car and moved in for a closer look. I took many photos but this is the one I’ll share.

After doing a little research, I’ve learned that this is called “turkey tail” fungus – an apt named for an organism that serves to help in the decay of the dead tree it is attached to. It is slowly eating the tree but it is doing it with great style.

Canon 5DIII 1/60s f/3.5 ISO250 100mm

Here’s the big picture (and yes, that’s our cool silver rental car lurking softly out of focus in the background. But look at the tree, not the car.)

By Scott Shephard

The title of this post was inspired by the famous WWI poem “In Flanders Field” by John McCrae:

“In Flanders Fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.”

There are not crosses nor poppies here and this photo wasn’t taken in Flanders Field. Instead, this a small section of Arlington National Cemetery in Washington, DC. It was overcast and cool when Deb I got there on a late March Sunday morning. But it started raining on our visit and the rain, mixed with a 25 mph gusty winds, made it anything but pleasant to be in this sacred place.

None of that was on my mind when I stopped to take this photo. I had noticed that the bare trees are just starting to show their buds and that the grass is starting to turn green. In a sprawling cemetery filled with so many who died in battle, there is a solemn sadness. But there is also hope. . . .

Canon 5DIII 1/160s f/5.6 ISO800 55mm