Eastern Bluebird: Kennebunk, Maine, USA, December 2025 — Still working with December’s photos, this is from the Christmas Eve snowstorm. Showing lots of blue against the snow. We are so blessed to have our family of neighborhood bluebirds to brighten our winter (and summer) days. For some reason, they just project a lot of birdality…full of character and visible intent. It does not hurt that they are good-sized and colorful. Always fun to watch. Sony a6700. Sigma 16-300 at 450mm equivalent field of view. Program with bird and wildlife modifications. Processed in Photomator.

Carolina Wren: Kennebunk, Maine, USA, December 2025 — Since I was in the hospital on the 1st of January, I am still working off the photos from December. I rarely see this Carolina Wren in the sunshine, as I am not generally near the back deck feeders after breakfast, but I caught it one day last week when coming out to get my lunch…just as it was getting its. Note the ruffled-up feathers above the right leg (left in the photo). This bird has had that feather issue since it was a fledgling. It only adds to the uniqueness of the bird. Sony a6700. Sigma 16-300 at 450mm equivalent field of view. Program with bird and wildlife modifications. Processed in Photomator.

Red-bellied Woodpecker: Kennebunk, Maine, USA, December (barely) 2025 — The Red-bellied Woodpecker comes to our suet feeder a few times a day…which is in the far corner of the deck at a bad angle for photography through the double-glazed deck doors…but occasionally these days it comes to the sunflowers or mealworms, both of which are closer and at a better angle through the glass. Sony a6700. Sigma 16-300 at 450mm equivalent field of view. Program with bird and wildlife modifications. Processed in Photomator. And, for those who do not already go, I go for a pacemaker revision and upgrade today. If you are a praying person, I would appreciate your prayers; if not, spare me a good thought. Thank you.

I started photographing “ice bells” many years ago now, and I go out looking for them along the river here in Kennebunk on single-digit mornings. It used to be easier to find them, before someone cut all the willow wands overhanging the Mousam at Roger’s Pond Park back to accommodate the fly-fisherman. I do not know who thought that was a good idea, but they obviously did not share my love of ice bells. Still, there are a few. The Mousam there is ideal for their formation as the water level varies continuously on the tide, and yet the water is fresh enough (not salty) to freeze smoothly. There is also enough splash from the rapids to reach up several inches on the willow wands that remain. And so you get ice bells. Sony a6700. Sigma 16-300 at 450mm equivalent field of view. My Macro settings (Aperture preferred. f10 @ 1/125th). Processed in Photomator.

American Goldfinch: Kennebunk, Maine, USA, December 2025 — another in my bird tongue series 🙂 As you can see, the Goldfinch tongue is the fleshiest yet, adding to my theory that there is a direct relationship between the flexibility and fleshiness of the tongue of a bird and the complexity of its song. Sony a6700. Sigma 16-300 at 450mm equivalent field of view. Program with bird and wildlife modifications. Processed in Photomator.

Black-capped Chickadee: Kennebunk, Maine, USA, December 2025 — You don’t (or at least I don’t) realize how small a bird the chickadee is until you try to photograph one. Of the birds coming to our deck in winter, they are by far the smallest (it might be a close run thing between the chickadee and the Red-breasted Nuthatch, but I have not seen one of those for months). Smaller in the frame than a Carolina Wren, smaller than a White-breasted Nuthatch, smaller than a Goldfinch even, and less than half the size of a Bluebird. But what they lack in size, they make up for in personality and boldness. They will come to the feeders while I am out on the deck filling them, and they are well known for learning to eat from human hands. And they are so perky! So full of energy and life. A delight to watch and study. And always fun to photograph. Here again, we have a non-standard composition and pose, placing the bird on the upper rule-of-thirds horizon and the eye at the intersection of the upright on the right…looking out of frame but slightly forward. The composition was created, of course, by cropping in from the full frame. And again, I wanted to include enough of the clumped snow for atmosphere. Sony a6700. Sigma 16-300 (my “just for fun lens”) at 422mm equivalent field of view. Program mode with bird and wildlife modifications. +1.3EV exposure compensation for backlight against the snowy background. Processed in Photomator.

Tufted Titmouse: Kennebunk, Maine, USA, December 2025 — The fresh snow we got on Christmas Eve (refreshed again this morning with a dusting) has increased activity at the back deck feeders significantly. No new birds, but our regular customers are spending more time on the deck. I never need an excuse to take another photo of a titmouse (or nuthatch, bluebird, goldfinch, or woodpecker for that matter). Two shots might be similar, but they are never the same. Birds do not have personalities, of course, but they certainly have character, and it is that character that I love to try to catch. Sony a6700. Sigma 16-300 at 437mm equivalent field of view. Program with bird and wildlife modifications. +1.3EV exposure compensation (for the snowy background). Processed in Photomator.

Another shot in the aftermath of the Christmas Eve snowstorm…from the little patch of second-growth forest across the street. A little stream wanders through, still too warm to freeze. Shots like this, that have no obvious center of focus…no subject…are challenging for some folks. Some, when I have posted them in the past, have called them “pictures of nothing.” I like them. I like the way the stream draws the eye into the image (if you let it), creating a sense of depth, and encouraging our pattern-seeking instinct to try to make sense of the jumble of snow-covered branches overhead. The strong arc of the branch on the top rule of thirds line forms something like a horizon (I cropped the image slightly to put it right there)…and you find its echo in the similar arcs just above the stream. The arcs contrast with the strong uprights of the winter trees, their exposed bark adding the only touch of real color and warmth. Did I see all of that when I pressed the shutter? Certainly not. I saw something worth taking a second to frame, turned the camera on its side for a vertical, and framed it. I like what I saw. Only in processing the image and posting it here did I figure out what I liked about it. Which is why I always say you have not taken a photograph until you have shared it. Sony a6700. Sigma 16-300 at 24mm equivalent field of view. Auto Landscape Mode. Processed in Photomator.

I have often wondered how pine trees and snow became so emblematic of Christmas in our Western culture, and, of course, any AI engine will give you the full story: evergreens and unquenchable life from pre-Christian times, and Paradise Trees from Medieval German Mystery Plays, Queen Victoria and Charles Dickens, and Currier and Ives, even Bing Crosby’s White Christmas and Coca-Cola Santas in the snow…but my feeling is that all of those influences are really part of an inherent response to the miracle of the birth of the One child who sets us all free to be who we have always been, Children of the One Being. Life, green and vibrant, triumphant against a backdrop of clinging death. Snow, do your worst, we will outlive you into the spring and summer to come! For we have true life in us. We will be here when you have melted away! I know that is a lot to put on pine trees in the snow…and a lot to put on a baby born in a stable far from home 2000 years ago…but there you have it! Christmas does not speak to our rational mind…it speaks in words of wonder to the part of us that can still wonder…and tells us all we need to know. The One Being is right here, looking out of the eyes of every child, and living in the eyes and hearts of every human being. Even the cold purity of death will not quench that life. And that is a very Merry Christmas to us all!

I was looking for interesting ice formations down along the little brook that runs out into the marsh between RT 9 and the beach, but the water, high with snowmelt and the warm rain from the day before, was evidently just too warm, despite the well-below-freezing air. It was the December solstice light on the leaves at the bottom of the stream that caught my eye here…the rich browns, still carrying a hint of fall color…and I moved over to the stream’s edge to frame it. It is a tiny stream really…where it has dug a deep grove in the marsh I can step across it and not break my stride. Here in the shadow of the forest it is wider but I could still leap it (or could have when my legs were younger…though I might have needed a running start even then). Now, the more I look at this image the more I see of what attracted me. My focus keeps cycling between the leafy forest floor carpet underwater, and the perfect reflection of the forest trees and sky on the surface…I see the texture of the gray bark on the trees and then that dissolves into the leafy bottom and then solidifies again to trees and sky, over and over, drawing me deeper and deeper into the image. This is a “waiting room” image for sure…something to hang where people have time to be so caught between the leaves and sky that they forget that time is passing. View it as large as you can and take a moment, and you might see what I mean. Sony a6700. Sigma 16-300 at 43mm equivalent field of view. Auto with Landscape Scene mode. Processed in Photomator.