naturewalker.com Blog

Occasionally you stumble upon something special that is in close proximity to you and yet you never knew it was there. Such was the case when I was told by a friend at work of Marshall Forest Preserve which is located in Floyd County near the town of Rome, Georgia.

Marshall Forest is a 311 acre old-growth forest nestled in the Ridge and Valley Province, a geographical corridor of forests and woodlands that stretches from Pennsylvania to Alabama. Once a part of the Cherokee National lands it is one of the few old-growth forests left in the corridor and the forest ranges from 600 to 900 feet in elevation.

Marshall Forest is unusual as old-growth forests go as it is a combination of both northern and southern tree species that make up three distinct plant communities, pine-oak, chestnut oak and mixed hardwood sections that contain more than 55 different tree species.

Though the forest is in a late stage of ecological succession it is not a one plant dominated community as are most old-growth forest. It is believed that periodic ice storms and occasional fires have opened up the canopy allowing sun loving pines to take hold. So Marshall Forest is dominated in sections by an association of pines and hardwoods and still maintains a thriving population of over 300 plant species. Being one of the last stands of old-growth forest in northwest Georgia, the forest is maintained and protected by the Nature Conservancy of Georgia.

I arrived at the preserve about 7:30am just as the early morning sun began to peek through the spring foliage. As soon as entered the forest along one of the two available trails one thing became very apparent, the kings of this realm were indeed the trees. All around me stood hardwoods and pines hundreds of years old, their massive trunks reaching high through the still developing spring canopy like giant sentinels. Hardwoods such as hickory, sweet gum, oak and chestnut were scattered among massive pines that seemed to reach the heavens. The early morning rays of sunlight reached through the light mist to illuminate the huge expanse of limbs that seemed to stretch in all directions.

There was no wind at all and the only sound was the echoing of bird song that seemed to flow through the entire forest making it impossible to spot the songs creators. Occasionally the rhythm was broken by the thump of a falling nut or pine cone or the distant bark of a squirrel. A woodpecker hammering on some distant tree rounded out the chorus.

As I moved quietly along the trail I began to notice the different bark textures of the various trees. The diversity of these textures was amazing as they formed abstract patterns and designs. Some tree trunks were straight and tall while others seemed to twist and flow as if performing some ancient dance.

The sun was rising higher as I continued along, its golden rays reaching through the leafy canopy to cast dappled light on branches and limbs. The bird song and other sounds were increasing as the creatures of the forest began their morning rituals. I began to explore the lower levels of the forest and realized that a whole other world resided in these lower reaches. Indeed the forest floor was perhaps the true heart and soul of this place, for it was here that the forest lived, died and was born again. All around me was the spectacle of the life cycle on a forest.

New growth was reaching out from the lower parts of the tree trunks, the tender leaves and stems reaching for the light. Ferns and mosses were growing in unison, the rich greens in stark contrast to last season’s dead and decaying leaves. Vines, one of the more dominate of the forest floor plants, clambered up the rough bark of the tree trunks or stretched out across the branches in their search for sunlight. Moss and lichens clung to the tree bark and tiny leaves sprouted from even smaller crevices, each adding to the natural balance of this place.

But where life exits so must death. In an ancient forest such as this death is evident all around and beneath your feet. Huge trees, the victims of past lightening strikes or severe winter storms, lay stretched across the forest floor, their once elegant forms now fallen to decay. The floor itself is a carpet of fallen and decaying leaves and vegetation, littered with dead and broken limbs that are scattered like forgotten skeletons. It was saddening to look upon such majestic forms of life lying broken and forgotten by the inevitable hand of time.

But death in this place is not final. All around me from the decaying remains of the forest new life was springing forth. Tiny plants were growing from the decayed remains of tree trunks and new saplings were sprouting from the seeds of the fallen giants. Nothing in nature is ever wasted and all about me fungi and mushrooms were being nourished by the decay of the forest. Lichens and mosses covered many fallen trees, adding color and life to the cycle of decay. Once again I am awed by nature’s way of resurrection and rebirth.

As I continued my morning journey I spotted some of the forests animal life. Squirrels scurried along the forest floor hunting nuts and my stumbling even spooked a cottontail rabbit from his resting place. Something odd caught my eye and looking closer I saw a spiked caterpillar clinging to a tiny vine. As I moved on a fluttering epitone underwing moth landed on the side of a tree trunk, its camouflage coloring blending perfectly with the textures of the tree bark. Continuing up the trail I stopped to study the broken remains of a tree trunk only to be surprised by the scampering of a five-lined skink as he hunted for small prey.

Marshall Forest had not disappointed as I returned to the parking area. The wonder of an old-growth forest had been revealed to me in many ways and to have shared time among the giants of this forest had been a privilege. However my journey was not quite done.

The preserve is home to one of the largest populations of the rare and endangered large-flowered skullcap. This indigenous plant exists in old-growth forests such as this and as these types of ecosystems are rapidly vanishing so to the rare plants such as the skullcap. Since not being familiar with the plant I had not seen any on my adventure through the forest.

However, as I returned to the parking area I met a nice gentleman from the Nature Conservancy who was at the forest to make a count of the rare plant. He was kind enough to let me tag along as he did his studies and I was hopeful we would find one in bloom. We discovered several patches of the diminutive plant but they were either through with the bloom cycle or had not bloomed at all. We discovered several more plots of the mint like plant but no blooms either. Finally we stopped at one last group and as I looked around a saw two stalks of what seemed like small white flowers growing from a mound of moss. Pointing this out to my guide he smiled and confirmed that was indeed the skullcap. Closer inspection revealed a beautiful bloom that was white with a rich purple throat, looking very much like a tiny orchid. My camera and I happily spent 30 minutes shooting from every angle possible.

Marshall Forest Preserve is one of those secret jewels that you occasionally are fortunate to come across. This old growth forest is a prime example of how nature works her magic and to visit and see the wonders of this place was indeed a treat for me. My hat comes off to the Nature Conservancy whose mission is to preserve and protect these special places for future generations to enjoy.

Every since I was a child I have felt a certain binding to the natural world of which we all are part of. I can remember those simple times as a youngster, exploring the woodlands of my neighborhood, seeking its secrets and marveling at it’s treasures. I can remember wading in spring fed creeks hunting crayfish and salamanders, feeling the cold waters swirl around my ankles and feet. Many warm summer days were spent exploring the tall grasses of local meadows and being amazed at the hidden worlds that existed among the wildflowers that swayed in the warm breezes of that season. Those moments imprinted my soul with a deep and binding affection for the fragile threads that weave the intricate web we call nature.

I realized recently that as an adult in a world of modern technologies, where the push of a button or the speed dial of a cell phone seemingly controls our lives, that we as human beings are losing the ability to connect to those ties that bind all of us to our natural surroundings. My interest in nature photography taught me to see things in new and exciting ways, yet too often I find my field trips to be dominated by the technical aspects of photography and the desire to capture the “perfect image”, and in so doing the true beauty of nature slips by unseen.

It took several recent springtime walks in the woods for me to realize that by trying to look too hard for photographs that I had truly stopped seeing nature. I pondered this as I walked and soon I felt my mind relaxing and I began to be not a recorder of images, but a part of nature itself.

I could feel the soft tingle of the breeze on my face that awoke forgotten memories and the sweet smell of honeysuckle suddenly seemed stronger and more pronounced. I saw sunlight filtering through the branches of hardwoods, each laden with new foliage, to dance on the forest floor and wondered why I never noticed it before. Looking carefully among the branches of a small tree I spotted the delicate tendrils of a trumpet vine, its red and yellow blooms swaying to the rhythm of the breeze. Bird song seemed to fill the air and echo among the trees and I caught myself not aiming the camera but instead peering through dappled shadows and rustling leaves to try and find the songsters.

A small stream flowed from some mysterious and hidden spring and the muted sound of gurgling water seemed to blend with the whispering sigh of the afternoon wind. I watched as dragonflies darted along the water’s surface, their iridescence flashing in the rays of sunlight that penetrated the woodland canopy. Among the leaves and vines that wove intricate patterns along the forest floor tiny butterflies flitted and danced as if playing hide and seek with the shadows.

All of these images, sounds and smells assaulted my senses as I continued my walk and I realized I had not taken a single image with my camera, yet I felt more rejuvenated than I had felt in a long time. I could feel my creative senses stirring and I began looking closer at every turn of the trail wondering what new mystery the woods would reveal.

As I journeyed further I found patches of wild geraniums and spiderworts scattered around the trunks of hardwoods, each blossom swaying and moving with the rhythm of the breeze and for the first time my camera came out as images and compositions formed in my mind. This time instead of the feeling rushed to “grab a shot” I took my time, looking closely at every bloom and leaf and in so doing discovered new details I had never seen. Compositions formed in the viewfinder and as I began taking photographs I found myself scrutinizing every angle of light and shadow and exploring and seeing the subjects in new ways.

Further continuation of my journey revealed the flash of color of a woodland warbler or the chatter of nuthatches and chickadees among the trees. The humming of a bee and the barking of a gray squirrel sitting on the stump of a tree all seemed clearer and more distinct than I had remembered. I was now in tune with the environment and for the first time in a while I felt accepted by nature itself, as if my presence here was no longer a nuisance or a threat, but instead an equal partnership.

As I watched, whitetail deer moved silently through the undergrowth, their heads turned to watch me as well and I realized that I too was part of the forest and that I had learned to see as nature had intended me to see it. The walks in the woods had returned something that I had nearly lost, the ability to see the world and all its beauty and in so doing it renewed my spirit and soul.

Take the time my friend and go for a walk in the woods and let your senses go free and experience all that nature has to offer us. Nature is as much a part of us as we are part of it and I believe for us to understand our relationship with the natural world we must first learn to see and experience it’s true meaning. By doing so we will fill an essential part of our role as caretakers of this world we call home.

Click on the first image below and enjoy the slide show.

Blue Flowers	Chipmunk	Dragonfly on Reed	Dwarf Crested Iris	Female Cardinal
Yellow-bellied Flycatcher	Gray Squirrel	Spring Beauties	Maple Seeds	Male Blue Bird
Trumpet Vine	Cedar Waxwings	Little Wood Satyr	Louisiana Waterthrush	Native Azalea
White-breasted Nuthatch	Viceroy Butterfly and Leaf	White-tail Deer

I have added a new section to the website called Michael Jones Stock Imagery. This is a growing selection of stock images of various nature categories for purchase. All the information as well as the stock galleries can be accessed from The Naturewalker’s Journal website or through this link Michael Jones Stock Imagery

I once read a quote by a professional photographer that nature photography requires persistence. I didn’t really grasp the context of this statement until recently while on a field trip with a friend to photograph early spring wildflowers.

It was mid-morning and we were shooting in a park that was filled with a number of tiny spring wildflowers that bloom in late March and early April. After several hours of crawling about shooting flower close-ups, I had switched to a telephoto lens to shoot some photographs of the numerous Eastern Gray Squirrels that were in the park. As I stood about gazing up into the trees for a possible subject a sudden movement on the side of a tree caught my eye and lo and behold a White-breasted Nuthatch sat clinging to the side of the tree trunk.

Now to most people this is not a particularly remarkable event, but for me the nature photographer who had dreamed of photographing this very bird doing this very thing, this was an exciting event. Now let me explain about this little bird.

They are small, about the size of a wren or chickadee and they are seemingly always in constant movement, flitting about, hanging upside down, and in general, an extremely hyper fellow. They will cling to tree branches and trunks plucking at insects or seedlings in the bark and they rarely sit still for more than a few seconds. Yet here one set, not twenty feet from where my tripod and camera were setup.

Now fearing that the little fellow would fly my instinct and reflexes kicked in and I quickly swung my camera and telephoto lens and was able to fire off three quick images before he did just that.

Being a connoisseur of the digital technology I was able to quickly preview my images immediately on my cameras LCD screen and of the three images, there was one that had captured the little bird clinging to the side of the tree, the very image that I felt showed the true personality of this bird and the one image I had dreamed of taking.

I broke into a sweat at the prospect of what this image would look like on my computer screen and of the magnificent prints I could create as it appeared well exposed and focused on the LCD and I could hardly wait to get home and upload the image to my computer.

We finished our shoot for the day and I as soon as I hit the door to my home I literally ripped the memory card from the camera and plugged it into my card reader and began the upload process. Now as patience is not one of my virtues and the fact that the nuthatch image was recorded at about 100 out of 120 images on the card, I had to sit and wait in anticipation of what my long awaited nuthatch image would look like.

Finally, after two ham sandwiches, two and a half glasses of milk and much pacing, the images were loaded and I rapidly clicked my image-viewing program to open up my prize image.

I truly don’t think the Titanic sank as deep as my heart did when I saw the blurred mess of a nuthatch appear on my monitor. In my frenzy to capture the photograph I failed to use good photographic technique, in other words I blew the image. The LCD had lied to me!!!! My camera had failed and other such nonsense that photographers whisper to them selves when they miss a photograph rolled from my mouth. I was truly sick.

Though I had many good images that day, the one I missed nagged at me for several days. Then I remembered the article on persistence. It basically said to be successful in nature photography you had to keep trying, to keep pursuing the images and to go back again and again until you perfected your craft and brought back the image you envisioned in your minds eye.

So I thought that nuthatches, like most birds were territorial and if I returned to the park just maybe I could locate the bird again and get a second chance at the image.

Granted, as I arrived at the park a few days later in mid-afternoon, my faith that the little bird would still be around was a bit low. I got my gear prepared and began a slow trek around the park, looking up in trees and around tree trunks. No nuthatches!

I did spot a few bluebirds and I unenthusiastically began pursuing them, resigning myself that my nuthatch image was not to be.

However, as I rounded a large tree I stopped in my tracks. There, perched on the side of the trunk was my nuthatch. My heart began to race as I struggled to keep my movements slow while I set up my camera and zeroed in on the tiny little bird, only to have him fly off just before I fired a shot off. He landed on the side of another tree about fifty feet away and the pursuit began.

The bird made circles around the tree trunk, no doubt hunting insects and paid me no mind as I slowly and quietly set my tripod down and focused again on the nuthatch. Off he flies again just as the shutter trips leaving only a blurred blob on my LCD screen.

A number of words not printable here left my mouth as I watched him land on the ground by another tree. He quickly scampered up the side of the trunk and went around to the opposite side of the tree. I seized the moment as the bird could not see me and literally sprinted across to get within about fifteen feet of the tree.

Now I know the locals who live in the small town that the park resides in must have thought I had lost my mind. Seeing a fellow with a large camera, lens and tripod running across the park like a madman (the nuthatch was to small for them to see driving by on the road) was sure to have brought a number of thoughts and comments about my mental capacity.

However, being a devoted nature photographer I was not going to let such minor interruptions deter me from my tiny quarry. Now that the tripod was in place and camera aimed at the tree trunk I waited for the bird to come around from the backside of the trunk.

True to form the nuthatch came around the side of the trunk and saw me. However, this time instead of flying he merely set clinging to the bark of the trunk, and posed as if reading my mind that this was the image that I was working so hard to get. Fearing the bird would take flight again, I frantically fired off a few shots. This time he did not fly, and instead continued to pose long enough for me to get six to eight good images. Then he flew off towards a small stand of woods at the edge of the park.

Throwing my gear in the car I returned home a bit later to upload the images. I refused to let my hopes get to high even though the images appeared to be good. As the card finished uploading I quickly clicked on the thumbnail for the first image, and was rewarded with the first of several sharp, well-exposed images of a white-breasted nuthatch clinging to the side of a tree trunk.

Perhaps there was something to this persistence thing after all!

Now where did I see that golden-crowned kinglet………

Early spring, in particularly the last few weeks of March and the first weeks into April, offers a unique opportunity to observe and photograph the first wildflowers of the season. However, to see these beauties you have to get close, literally on your hands and knees, to really appreciate the color and diversity of these tiny wildflowers.

Recently while eating breakfast at a favorite restaurant that borders the city park in Cave Springs, Georgia, I noticed a proliferation of color spreading through the grassy areas that spread along the creek that runs through the middle of the park. After eating, I walked out to see what was creating all the colors and was amazed at the different types of tiny wildflowers that had burst into bloom since the rains that had fallen in the area recently.

The photographer in me took over and even though I had no gear with me at the time and various compositions took form in my mind and I knew a return visit was at hand.

A few days later accompanied by my good friend and fellow photographer Charles Stevens, I returned to the park to find even more wildflowers had bloomed and they were all equally tiny. Unlike the larger more dramatic wildflowers that bloom in May, these jewels were anywhere from a dime to smaller than the fingernail on my pinky in size.

The largest flowers were the host of dandelions that were growing in patches but the small size of the other flowers did in no way diminish their beauty.

Spring Beauties were the predominate species and they were growing in clusters through out the area as well as small groups of white chickweed mixed in. However, quite a few other species ranging from brilliant blue, purple and bright yellow also were intermingled in, adding to the carpet of color.

To photograph this tiny landscape we both were using macro lenses that enabled us to get close to the small blooms and leaves. Tripods and beanbags were used to support the cameras for when working this close to the flowers even the smallest movement would result in unsharp images. This type of photography offers many opportunities to try different compositions and angles to capture a group of flowers or a single blossom.

Usually the wind is the most critical factor and it was quite brisk at times the morning we were there. However patience did pay off and we simply waited for it to stop before taking an image, though quite a few images did find their way to the delete bin during the editing process.

We were able to come away with quite a few beautiful images of these tiny but colorful wildflowers and it once again reminds me that nature’s grandeur is everywhere, even beneath our feet. So during the early weeks of spring take the time and reward yourself by walking out into your yard or the nearest meadow and get down on your knees to look at the colorful world beneath you.

Hello and welcome to “The Walker’s Journal”, the online blog for my website “The Naturewalker’s Journal”. As I figure out the fine art of blogging, this will be a online journal of my photographic excursions as well as a sounding board for both nature photography as well as environmental issues and subjects. Here hopefully you can get some insight into my passion for nature photography as well as share information about our natural world. Please be patient as this blogging stuff is an entirely new animal for me.

Michael