I turned 40 this year. It honestly affected me more than I thought it would. Not in the sense that forces me into terms with my own mortality, but more in the sense that results in introspection – the ‘ol who am I and who do I want to be? My son turned one this year, which is a-whole-nother kind of milestone. His personality is really starting to shine through and his energy is boundless. 2023 also saw changes in my professional life. Following the passing of a friend and colleague, I became a team lead and took on several new responsibilities. I also worked more to develop my freelance side gig, spending many hours scouting the woods, writing, and submitting articles. All of this to say that 2023 was busy. So busy in fact, that I spent fewer days out with my camera than I have in the last 15 years or so. I have to admit I struggled with this. Nature photography has become inextricably linked to my sense of identity. It connects me with the natural world and serves as an important stress reliever and mental reset. It brings me clarity and joy, and a unique sense of purpose beyond the responsibilities of every day life. If I go too long without capturing a frame I simply don’t feel like myself. At the same time, I tried to look at this reduced time afield as an opportunity – a chance to maximize each outing and try to come away with new and unique images that tell the story of these subjects that mean so very much to me.

Below, in no particular order, are a few of my favorite images of 2023. Thank you for viewing.

Please note that the blog initially shows images brighter and less contrasty than they are. To see the best version of each image, hover your cursor above them for about a second.

Undetected

My 2023 began, as it does most years, with a salamander hunt. This year’s was special, however, as it led to a discovery I thought I’d never make – an eastern tiger salamander (Ambystoma tigrinum) in deep east Texas. Consult most range maps for this species and it will show them as being present throughout east Texas. This is misleading, however, and records from the Pineywoods are scant. The distribution and ecology of A. tigrinum in Texas are poorly understood. In general, they seem to prefer isolated clay-bottomed vernal pools in a matrix of sandy oak or pine savanna. Most records come from belts of Eocene sand deposits in the Post Oak Savanna, so it was a thrill spotting this male in a tupelo swale amid a longleaf pine savanna. I captured this top down image to show how he might wander across a bed of longleaf needles during a wintry rain to arrive at the pond of his birth, and engage in an ancient ritual that will found the next generation of Pineywoods tigers.

Flair

In early March I was invited to serve on a panel for a screening of Deep in the Heart, an incredible “blue chip” nature documentary about Texas. Caro joined me, and we made a brief weekend excursion out of it, leaving our little one with my parents. Early one morning I set out to a nearby green space to try my luck at photographing what might be one of the most ridiculously showy birds in the country – the Wood Duck (Aix sponsa). 

This particular area experiences heavy foot traffic, and though these ducks were fairly accustomed to people, it was still a challenge photographing them. I made sure to get out at first light, and I was glad I did. Within a couple of hours, the crowds grew and the ducks disappeared. There really weren’t any good spots to get down low and photograph them on the water, and they were slightly too skittish to approach when they were on land. After spending a good part of the morning observing them, I realized that the males were frequently hopping up onto the posts of a bridge that crossed a small stream. It wasn’t the most photogenic setting, but fortunately there were some shrubs nearby. I was able to position myself behind the shrubs so that I could work them into the image as a foreground element, largely obscuring the bridge, while at the same time concealing myself enough that they came in close. It was a fun morning, and I came away with a variety of images.

Treasure Hunt

This image combines two of my favorite things: luna moths (Actias luna) and spring ephemeral wildflowers, in this case the lousewort (Pedicularis canadensis). In early March we took a family trip to one of our favorite nature parks. This time of year I can usually count on finding a few luna moths with some diligent searching (and Caro’s eagle eyes). This year we came across one among the emerging leaves of lousewort, or wood betony – a lovely, fairly uncommon spring wildflower.

Harbinger

This image was also captured in early March. I set out one morning to a park close to home to look for spring wildflowers and early migrant songbirds. I was fortunate enough to see my first Northern Parula (Setophaga americana) of the year. This is one of the first migrant breeding warblers to return. I framed him here among the freshly emerging spring leaves of a Florida maple (Acer floridanum). That morning came a gentle shower. The rain mixed with the cold spring air was invigorating, and proof that one doesn’t always have to travel far afield to feel immersed in nature.

Contour

Later in March, while at the trailhead of another favorite nearby natural area, we spotted several birds coming to feeders set out near an observation deck. Growing nearby were several baldcypress trees. Many of the birds, including this Carolina Chickadee (Poecile carolinensis), would stage in the cypress branches before hopping down to the feeders. New leaf bundles were just breaking bud, turning twigs into decorative green bottle brushes.

A Snake in the Sorrel

At the end of March, Caro and I spent the day with our friend John Williams exploring the Columbia Bottomlands of southeast Texas. This unique community harbors impressive plant and animal diversity, and John knows the region better than anyone I know. We were specifically looking for snakes, and were lucky enough to turn up several individuals of multiple species. This striking western ribbon snake (Thamnophis proximus) was a nice find. For many years I focused on capturing images of an entire snake posed into some curled position. Recently, however, I’ve really come to enjoy capturing close-up headshots. I think it connects the viewer more to the subject, and provides a glimpse into their world, which is on a scale vastly different than ours.

As a side note, John co-authored a book with another friend of mine, Suzanne Simpson. It’s called Wild Houston, and it’s all about the natural history of the Bayou City. It includes 25 different field trips for folks looking to explore the regions plants, animals, and natural communities. I highly recommend it!

Ophidian

While wandering the woods with John we spotted several copperheads (Agkistrodon contortrix). Copperheads are among the most common snakes locally, and as a result, even folks interested in snakes tend to get bored with them. Those who are not interested in snakes often fear them. Either way, they get an undue bad rap. In my opinion, copperheads are some of the most beautiful snakes in the country, with beautiful colors and patterns, and striking eyes. I was able to time this one just right, as the snake let out its tongue to gather information about the world around it.

Creek Walker

In early April the family and I set out to wander a beautiful local creek. As we began our trek I began hearing the sweet song of a special bird ring out from the trees lining the water’s edge. Though they lack the eye-grabbing colors of many other wood warblers, the Louisiana Waterthrush (Parkesia motacilla) is one of my favorite species. They reach the southwestern extent of their breeding range in mature hardwood dominated forests of east Texas. Here they are one of our more uncommon breeding warblers.

I followed this melody across a clear stream flowing over a bed of stone stratified with bands of lignite coal. I caught a glimpse of our singer hunting along the bank. I moved ahead and laid directly in the cold water. After some time, he and his mate appeared in very close proximity, wading through the shallow flowing water, snatching up tiny aquatic invertebrates and caterpillars floating on the surface. The next 15 minutes or so were pure magic as these atypical warblers went about their daily lives mere feet from me, in clear water reflecting the greens of emerging foliage in the canopy above.

Illuminated

This April we celebrated my parent’s 50th anniversary, a special milestone by any measure. To celebrate they rented a large cabin in the Wichita Mountains of Oklahoma so that the entire family could come together in memory of a wonderful partnership. While the trip was certainly focused on family time, we did make a couple of excursions out into the surrounding hills. I spent some of this time chasing after eastern collared lizards (Crotaphytus collaris), which was an absolute blast. Also known as the “mountain boomer”, they are the state reptile of Oklahoma, and the individuals from the Wichitas are absolutely stunning. I followed this male as it scurried across ancient granite boulders, and considered myself lucky when it stopped in a narrow shaft of light cutting through two of the lichen-laden rocks long enough for me to capture a few frames.

Radiant

Caro’s sister came to stay with us for the month of May. It was exciting hosting her for her first trip to the states and we made many wonderful memories. One the two of them took my son for a walk as I worked from the home office. I received a call that they had encountered a three-toed box turtle (Terrapene carolina triunguis) a couple of blocks down the road. This isn’t particularly uncommon, and we usually see a few a year either in our yard or elsewhere in our neighborhood, and it’s always a special treat when we do. This individual was particularly striking, with the most ornate shell I’ve seen on a three-toed. When I first saw it, I had to do a double take to ensure I wasn’t looking at an ornate box turtle (Terrapene ornata), a species that is much rarer in my neck of the woods.

Obscured

In mid May I ventured a few hours north to explore some of my favorite Silveus’ dropseed prairie remnants in northeast Texas. I was hoping to encounter several ragged fringed orchids (Platanthera lacera), but after several hours of searching, this was the only individual I encountered. This widespread eastern orchid barely enters Texas in a few northeatern counties, where it is apparently very rare.

I spent some time with this orchid, wanting to tell its story to the best of my ability. Perfect, clean portraits of plants and animals are nice to look at. While I do capture those types of images, recently I’ve been trying to look at things with a fresh perspective. Here I dropped my camera down into the grasses to try and capture what’s it’s like to be a part of this orchid’s world.

Sextet

A couple of weeks later I travelled a couple of hours in the opposite direction, down toward the coast. My first stop was at a coastal prairie remnant in the southern reaches of the Big Thicket where I photographed this group of Texas coneflowers (Rudbeckia texana). This coastal prairie indicator species is endemic to the West Gulf Coastal Plain. Generally it persists in numbers in high quality remnants, and occasionally along roadsides where routine mechanical disturbance mimics historic natural disturbance regimes.

This is an impressive Rudbeckia, reaching five feet or more in height. It is highly visible, making it easy to spot and identify potentially diverse prairie remnants. Generally where R. texana grows other good things can be found, so if you spot these in an accessible area, it’s definitely worth a look!

Emerald

From the coastal prairies I continued southward to the saltmarsh that lines the coast. My target birds were saltmarsh specialists like Seaside Sparrows and Clapper Rails, however everywhere I wandered I heard the cheery song of the Common Yellowthroat (Geothlypis trichas). Near a small rise lined with eastern baccharis I found myself surrounded by them, so I settled in for a photo session, and ended up with this small in frame capture that spoke to me.

Hidden Gaudiness

There is a wildlife management area close to home that includes a variety of habitats, including restored prairie, freshwater ponds and marshes, and mature bottomland hardwood forest. Along with these varied habitat comes excellent bird diversity. It is a great birding spot, and happens to be one of my go to locations to photograph some of our most colorful summer birds. On this evening in late May I was sitting camouflaged in the grass when I became witness to a territory dispute between two male Painted Buntings (Passerina ciris). They bounced all around me, taking turns vocalizing their displeasure at the other’s proximity to their territory. These sorts of disputes are not uncommon in the songbird world, particularly in high quality habitats where numerous males may try to stake out a territory in a relatively small area. Painted Buntings are famous for their ferocity with potential rivals, and fights to the death have been recorded. Fortunately for me and the birds, after several minutes of squabbling, one finally relented and flew off to another patch of ground.

Delicate

Summer comes early to east Texas, and by early June it was in full swing. On one particularly hot and humid day I went to visit some friends in Sabine County. They built a stunning cabin on a few hundred acres of some of the nicest woods in east Texas. This day I explored a bit and took the opportunity to refresh myself in a swimming hole deeper than I am tall. All around their woods this lovely woodland forb was in bloom. Yeatesia viridiflora sometimes known as yellow bractspike, is one of the few things to bloom deep in the woods this time of year. It’s small white flowers may not look like much from a distance, but upon closer inspection I find them to be quite lovely.

Scarce

Nearly two months passed before I picked up my camera again. In late July I travelled across the Lone Star State for work. I was joining biologists from the Texas Parks and Wildlife Department to help survey for and discuss the conservation of Kinosternon hirtipes, an enigmatic little turtle that goes by such aliases as the rough-footed mud turtle, Mexican mud turtle, or Big Bend mud turtle. In the United States, this species is known only from water sources along a single drainage in Presidio County. It is speculated that it was historically a creek dwelling species, however as the streams it depended on dried up, it has since been forced into other permanent water sources, such as cienegas and stock ponds.

K. hirtipes is considered by many to be one of the rarest turtles in the country. It was a privilege to see decent numbers of them in seemingly out of place wet habitats nestled in the expansive Chihuahuan Desert. Research being conducted by Texas Parks and Wildlife and various conservation organizations is ongoing, and will continue to provide glimpses into the natural history, threats, and conservation needs of this special species. 

Perseverant

Another two months would pass before I found myself behind the lens again. In late September James Childress and I escaped one of the hottest and driest Texas summers in recent memory, and made for the cool clean air of the Colorado Rockies. Somewhere among the cold mountain air carrying battle cries on the wind I again found inspiration in the natural world. It had been buried but not lost, set behind the duties of fatherhood and increasing workloads.

Exhaled breath turned to steam as James and I looked into the dim pre-dawn light. James and I share a kinship closer to brotherhood than friendship, and I was grateful to be sharing this experience with him. I could sense that he too needed a reset that can only be brought on by those most inspiring of experience.

And what could be more inspiring than standing among the wapiti (Cervus canadensis) in a frosty valley surrounded by snow capped peaks stretching miles into the sky? We had come to spend time with these incredible animals during one of the natural world’s greatest spectacles – the annual Rocky Mountain elk rut.

To me, this image nearly perfectly embodies this experience. A majestic bull elk stands before a gooseberry bush awash with autumn color presenting like flames on the grass. The wound on his side hints at an intense battle that enacted a heavy toll. Yet despite this undoubtedly crippling injury, he perseveres. The intense look on his face communicates to his potential rivals that he may appear broken, but he is not beaten. We watched this bull for some time as he marched through the ponderosa pines, issuing bugle after bugle, communicating his presence and battle readiness to the world. Experiencing this sight, in this place, with my brother James at my side was exactly what I needed.

Royal

This is another image of the same bull, taken a few minutes later. These animals never cease to amaze and inspire me. They are also closely linked to early formative memories of family camping trips out west that helped cement my love for the outdoors. Their size and prowess truly can’t be conveyed through an image, however I did my best to do that here. An intense stare and patterned background made for a simple, yet powerful portrait that was one of my favorite images from the trip.

Sunbather

Our time in the Rockies was short – we had only five days, and two of those would be consumed with ~18 hours of driving each way. Since James had never been before, we wanted to make the most of it, and after spending a morning with the elk, we drove up to above tree line. With labored breath, we explored the alpine tundra and were delighted when we heard the high pitched squeal of an American pika (Ochotona princeps). We soon found the tiny Lagomorph and watched as it scurried about the rocks, alternating between shade and sun. It stopped for a brief moment near the edge of this boulder where a shaft of light filtered through the mountaintops to cast a spotlight upon it.

Ouzel

The next day, down to (relatively) lower elevations, we found ourselves walking along mountain streams in search of a special bird that makes its home here. Immediately visible were bright white stains on dozens of rocks that I recognized as sign that an American Dipper (Cinclus mexicanus) had been in the area. It wasn’t long before one zipped past us, headed downstream and low to the water. We caught sight of where it landed, and positioned ourselves on the bank downstream, the direction it was moving.

I have to say, this experience ranks among the most uncomfortable photography sessions I’ve participated in. James laid flat over river rocks of various sizes, but there wasn’t room for me to lay next to him, so I had to lay flat on a slightly higher bank and position my camera a couple of inches lower at the water’s edge to get the low angle I was looking for. This meant that I had to crane my neck downward at a very unnatural and unpleasant angle.

It was worth it, though, as we watched the chunky ball of feathers come bouncing toward us, hopping from rock to rock and making short forays into the rushing water, bobbing, or “dipping” all the while. Eventually he passed too close for 500 millimeter lenses to focus.

In all we spent about an hour with the little Water Ouzel, another name for this unique songbird. We watched as it caught a tiny fish, and sang from mossy branches overhanging the water. It was a wonderful experience, and one of the highlights of a trip filled with special moments.

Diminutive

After returning from Colorado, another month and a half went by until one evening while on a walk with my son I happened upon a serendipitous encounter. I spotted a tiny line sprawled out on the road a few blocks from home. Initially appearing as little more than a stick or a bundle of pine needles, upon closer examination it turned out to be a little reptile that is quite uncommon in Texas – the smooth earth snake (Virginia valeriae). I consider myself to be lucky to live in a neighborhood with a few tracts of intact forest ranging from around one to five acres. Over the years we have seen numerous box turtles of various age classes and several interesting snake species including speckled and prairie king snakes. It goes to show that even small amounts of green space within an otherwise suburban setting can harbor impressive biodiversity, and may serve as a refuge for some rare and declining species.

Scavenger

I took the last two weeks of November off from work. The family and I took one of those days to head south to visit my parents in the north Houston suburbs. On the way we stopped to explore the Sam Houston National Forest. Near an old hunter camp we spotted this Turkey Vulture (Cathartes aura) perched near a pile of discarded deer guts, heads, and legs. It was close as I would get to posting a photo of a turkey for Thanksgiving. When you think about it though, Turkey Vulture make a pretty good surrogate. Not only do they have turkey in their name, but they are one of nature’s biggest fans of leftovers.

Beacon

The white-tailed deer (Odocoileus virginianus) might just be my favorite animal to photograph. Perhaps it is the highly secretive nature of mature bucks, or their status of one of the most familiar mammals in the country – something about them just appeals to me. Each year I make an effort to get out during their annual rut to observe their behavior and try to capture a few images. This year I managed only one day to get away for deer photography. The stars aligned on Thanksgiving, and I was on the road by 3 A.M. I arrived at my destination by dawn, and just before the sun made its daily appearance, I spotted this impressive buck as it tore through the brush, hot on the tail of a doe. I followed them for a few hundred yards, hoping to get an image through the clutter. Just as the sun began filtering through scrubby oaks and elms, he emerged into a clearing and paused among the bluestem. It would be my last major photo excursion of the year, and I was happy to end my year in photos on a high note.

I enjoyed having you along as I recounted some of my favorite moments in nature and photography in 2023. It always means so much to me that y’all take the time to look at my images and read my words. I wish all of you a very happy and prosperous 2024, and hope that it is filled with the people, places, and things that you love.