American Goldfinch: Kennebunk, Maine, USA, April 2026 — It is easy to forget that our feeder birds actually have lives away from feeders, or that the majority of their species exist without our assistance. Our feeders are a convenience for the birds, not a necessity—though our habit of feeding can affect the population dynamics and movements of the species. I found a whole flock of American Goldfinches in the forest along the marsh path by the river, well away from human habitation. Wild Goldfinches! Of course, it is possible this flock visits feeders miles from where I saw them, or visits feeders some days or times of day when I am not watching them, so I cannot say for certain that this is a truly wild goldfinch, but I can speculate. Not that it matters. I think it is important that, from time to time, we see ourselves as part of the birds’ habitat, and not the birds as part of ours. The way I see it, it provides a needed perspective. I am willing to pay the birds to come visit me because I like birds. They are willing to come because they like the seed, suet, and mealworms I put out. I become part of the birds’ habitat in order to enjoy them. I am not sure they enjoy me in the same way, but that’s okay. I am willing to be the “bigger man” in this relationship since the birds cannot be expected to do that. I am not big enough to think that the bluebirds bring their chicks to show them off to me, or leave them on the deck for hours “in my care,” but it would do no harm if I did think that way. And it might even make me a bigger/better person. 🙂 Sony a6700. Sigma 16-300 Contemporary at about 800mm equivalent field of view crop. Program with bird and wildlife modifications. Processed in Photomator.

Moss etc.: Kennebunk, Maine, USA, April 2026 — This is a near-macro shot of moss and what I have always called “winter green,” the small plant with the red berries. It uses macro technique but at a larger scale, so maybe just a close-up. It is still like entering another world, an inviting world, a world with its own measure of wonder. A tripod is required for shots like this. You have to slow down past safe hand-holding levels to enter this world and squint a little (stop the lens down) to be able to see any depth, but it is worth the effort. And there is a recipe for any transforming view: slow down and squint a little (or open your eyes very wide if you are not after depth). Works every time! Sony a6700. Sigma 16-300 Contemporary at 92mm equivalent field of view at f16 and 1/25 (Aperture program). Auto spot focus. Processed in Photomator.

Maple Blossom: Kennebunk, Maine, April 2026 — A week ago today, when the sun was shining in the window, I posed this cluster of maple blossoms against a relatively dark background to take its portrait. I moved in really close, using a 1.7 close-up lens on the already close-focusing Sigma 16-300 Contemporary to achieve a slightly larger-than-life-size view—that is, slightly larger than the closest focus of my unaided eye, and this is what I saw. A whole bouquet of tiny flowers. Most have dropped their pollen—or more likely, I bumped the anthers with my lens. Those anthers are the size of poppy seeds, just for scale. Isn’t it wonderful what you can see if you really look? And the seeing goes all the way through you and lights up your mind, illuminates your soul by illuminating the world. Or that is what happens to me. Sony a6700. Sigma 16-300 Contemporary with 1.7x Sigma close-up filter. f/2.0 for depth of field. Aperture program and auto-focus. Processed in Photomator.

Pussy Willow Catkin: Kennebunk, Maine, USA, April 2026 — The wonder of macro is, of course, that it shows us a world we do not normally see. It presents a more than life-size view…closer than our unaided eye can focus and allows us to see detail that we can only see with a magnifying glass, microscope, or through a macro camera lens. Macro expands our world. By looking at the very small, it makes our world bigger! This is Pussy Willow Catkin, and really, who knew it was made of those tiny fibers and housed that flock of little black seeds, each in its own little blanket? Who knew the filaments and anthers grow out from between the seeds? Who knew the anthers had two lobes? Well, probably someone did, but I was not one of them. Until now. And that is simply wonderful, don’t you think? Sony a6700. Sigma 16-300 Contemporary at 126mm equivalent field of view plus 1.75x close-up lens. Aperture Program with macro modifications. f13 for depth of field. Processed in Photomator.

Along the Bridle Path in Kennebunk, Maine, through the marshes beside the lower Mousam River, spring is just beginning to happen on this mild April day. I was chased off the path by that bank of fast-moving clouds as it moved over me and out to sea, all the space of less than an hour. I heard my first wood frogs of the season but did not see them. Days like this when last year’s marsh grass is still lying where it was flattened by the snow, are winter’s last gasp. There is nothing between us now and spring, and winter is well aware. Life is coiled up and ready to pounce. And that is the lovely tension in these landscapes. Sony a6700. Sigma 16-300 Contemporary at 24mm equivalent field of view. Auto with Landscape mode selection. Processed in Photomator.

Pussy Willow: Kennebunk, Maine, USA, April 2026 — Again, I brought two fonds of Pussy Willow inside and put them in water to see what would happen, and the catkins unfolded overnight. This shot was taken with natural window light, against a dark blanket draped over a chair. As I see it, there is real beauty here, a beauty that is both unique and compelling. I like the way the sunlight plays with the inner light of the catkins as life bursts out of them. I like their graceful, fuzzy forms bristling with sharp barbs of pollen. Several times I got too close with my lens and had to brush the pollen off. I admire how sticky it is. It is not just powder, but a powder of resin, that leaves a smear when you try to brush it off, and sticks tightly to your fingers (or a bird’s feathers or a bug’s shell). It is a persistent as only life can be. Sony a6700. Sigma 16-300 Contemporary at 40mm equivalent. Aperture with my macro settings. f10 for depth of field. -2.3 EV to preserve highlights. Processed in Photomator.

Hermit Thrush: Emmons’ Preserve, Kennebunkport Land Trust, Kennebunkport, Maine, April 2026 — I forget how early the Hermit Thrush returns to southern Maine. There are no leaves on the trees yet, the buds on most plants are just forming, and the maples are only now just blooming, and here is the Hermit Thrush already passing through our forests. Not singing yet. Silent, but there. There were two close together at Emmons’ Preserve, perhaps a pair. I am always happy to see one (and to hear one—one of the most haunting of songs), and I have seen them early the past two years, despite the accuracy of their name. They are indeed shy and retiring, not fond of company, and often solitary. To see two together was a rare treat. Sony a6700. Sigma 16-300 Contemporary at about 1000mm equivalent field of view crop. Program with bird and wildlife modifications. Processed in Photomator.

Maple blossom macro — Maple Blossom: Kennebunk, Maine, USA, April 2026 — The Maple Blossoms in our yard are just beginning to open. I brought these inside to move them along a bit faster, not knowing really if they would open in the house. They did, and that gave me a chance for some macro shots. The fun of macro is that it allows us to see and appreciate the world that is just too small for our naked eyes. It opens a whole new layer of the universe, which is remarkably the same as the layer we see, and remarkably unique at the same time. It is this recursive nature of reality that has always fascinated me. The universe appears to be equally as beautiful no matter how close, or how far, you look. For this shot I set up a low table in the kitchen where the sun comes through the sliding deck doors and hung a blanket over a chair as a backdrop. I mounted my Sony a6700 and Sigma 16-300 Contemporary on the tiny carbon fiber table top tripod which I carry for macro work when out on a photoprowl, and added the Sigma achromatic close up attachment (designed for the older 18-300mm lens) to get even closer than the already close focusing 16-300 contemporary. So close that I kept getting pollen on the lens. 🙂 I hooked the camera up to the Sony app on my phone so I could control the camera without touching it. And then I just played around for an hour or more, looking for the right angles to show off the beauty. I used Aperture Program to increase depth of field and movable spot focus to select the focus point I wanted (both of which I could do on my phone). This shot is at f32 and 1/40th at ISO 1250 (-0.7EV to hold the highlights). Auto focus.

Wild Turkey: Kennebunk, Maine, USA, April 2026 — The Wild Turkeys are emerging from the woods at last, coming out onto the roadsides and lawns (and open fields) to feed and to court. Yesterday, Carol spotted a big tom in full display right in the middle of the street just up from us, before sunrise, and I threw on some clothes and went out with my camera. There were, as I suspected, two Toms and a bunch of hens working the back yards along the tree line. I followed them as they wandered their way along the edge of the woods, up the street. Though the light was not great that early, I took a lot of photos. How could I not? This one shows the Tom in full display, feathers puffed out to three times its normal size and with that amazing tail in the air. Such an impressive bird. When Ben Franklin made his argument that the apparently humble Wild Turkey should be our national bird, and not the imperial Eagle, I am certain that this is the bird he was thinking of! (And I often wonder (especially in light of what is happening today) what a difference it might have made if Franklin had had his way?) Sony a6700. Sigma 16-300 Contemporary at about 1200mm equivalent field of view crop. Program with bird and wildlife modifications. Processed in Photomator. (ISO 4000 by the way.)

Emmons’ Preserve, Kennebunkport Land Trust, Arundel, Maine, April 2026 — This is tannin froth on the surface of the pool below the rapids on the Batson River at Emmons’ Preserve. I am a fan of such spontaneous pattern(ing)s where the flow of existence becomes visible. “Pattern(ing)s” to remind us that it is a pattern in the process of being formed, not ever a finished pattern. I think we often need reminding. Otherwise, we get stuck in the pattern, stuck on the pattern, caught holding the pattern when it has already moved on. Singing the same bar when the music has moved on to the next. That, right there, is the source of much suffering. And the blessing of photography. If you need to memorialize a passing pattern, take a photo and move on. Or that’s what I say. Sony a6700. Sigma 16-300 Contemporary at 86mm equivalent field of view. Aperture Program for increased depth of field. Processed in Photomator.