Redux

We may move and become part of another place, but none of us can change where we're from. In my case, that's Lake Michigan's eastern shore of sugar sand beaches and dunes. I doubt I'll ever return to my salmon stream to stay. I would be unhappy leaving San Diego's leopard sharks, mountains and desert to move back. But I do still enjoy visiting the lake and friends who are excited to see me. I stay on top of conservation issues related to the Great Lakes and pick up trash on the beaches and in parks while I'm there. I swam my laps along the buoys in Ludington. It was somewhat surreal not having to do the stingray shuffle to get out there like I do at home. My subconscious has merged pods of pilot whales I've seen just south of the U.S./Mexico border and my hometown lighthouse. I’ve even seen killer whales pass it while I slept.

A lone gull off of Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore. I’ve been asked here in California if one can see across Lake Michigan. Yes and no. I’ve certainly seen Chicago’s skyline from Grand Mere State Park near where I grew up, but that’s a short distance away. The lake is about 118 miles (190 km) across at its widest point.

Sandhill cranes before they descended to Arcadia Marsh Nature Preserve. A relative by marriage lamented to us during our visit that they tear up lawns. I prefer wildlife to manicured sod and can hear the Anna’s hummingbirds squeaking in the California fuchsia planted where grass used to be as I type here.

We spotted this doe at dusk in Ludington State Park. Her fawn was nearby and we felt bad putting them on guard even as we quietly padded through.

My snake senses are finely tuned and I knew roughly what I’d heard before I looked over my shoulder and saw this beautiful eastern hognose going about its business in Ludington State Park.

This ruby-throated hummingbird was working Impatiens capensis in Arcadia Dunes Marsh Preserve, as were quite a few others. It didn’t surprise me to see them chasing much larger birds—the hummingbirds pretty much rule the yard here. I used to ride my bike over to the Kennedy Forest portion of Forest Park in St. Louis to watch the hummingbirds visiting these plants. I’d be growing an enormous bank of them if I lived in the region to attract and nourish these birds. Clean feeders are a great addition to a wildlife-friendly garden, but helpful (often native) plants and insects provide better nutrition.

The Lost Lake Trail at Ludington State Park is sublime.

I was lucky to see orange-fringed orchids (Platanthera ciliaris) growing in a small, west Michigan preserve from the vantage point of a boardwalk. This species is endangered in Michigan and threatened in other locations as well. Minimal land has been spared for them to thrive in because wealth extraction of land and our fellow humans seems to make more sense to a lot of people. Argentine ants and plagues may have the last laugh.

Sphagnum moss in the bog supporting the orchids and wild blueberries.

Ghost plants (Monotropa uniflora) can be missed easily if the light isn’t hitting them just right.

A monarch butterfly caterpillar (Danaus plexippus) feeds on a common milkweed (Asclepias syriaca). This plant species throws quite the pollinator party and is wonderfully fragrant.

Here’s an adult monarch working common boneset (Eupatorium perfoliatum) at Arcadia Marsh Nature Preserve.

This American red squirrel and I watched each other for awhile at Ludington State Park.

American white waterlily (Nymphaea odorata) at Ludington State Park.

Flow.

A side of sauce. This shot could have been taken anywhere. My exhibition as a senior in art school studying photography with Pulitzer Prize-winning photographer Taro Yamasaki was a series of aesthetically pleasing prints I shot of plastic pollution in the Ann Arbor River.  It bothered me then and more so now. The situation has worsened as our convenience culture continues its conquest.

This white sage is thriving in my alma mater's botanical garden and in various spots in the yard. I love Salvia apiana and so do my animal buddies. The arid house at Matthaei struck a chord with me the first time I saw it. It was my first exposure to the Agaves, Aloes and Haworthias I grow too many of.

Arcadia Dunes is protected, owned and managed by the Grand Traverse Regional Land Conservancy.

Lightning overhead and raindrops on my forehead.

Acorn Woodpecker with starling flight

European starlings aren’t native to this country, but I appreciate them anyway. Their beautiful murmurations are grand enough to make the news at times. This photograph captured a more subtle flight. At the far left you can see an acorn woodpecker watching them jockeying for position among the branches of a California sycamore filled with woodpecker nest cavities.

The northern elephant seals of San Simeon, California

Earlier this year, I was lucky to be able to spend some time observing and photographing northern elephant seals (Mirounga angustirostris) on a beach in San Simeon, a charming town on the Central Coast located roughly halfway between Los Angeles and San Francisco. The circle of life was on full display, a reminder of both the beauty and brutality of nature.

Crystal Cove State Park

Until recently, my experiences at this California state park had been limited to snorkeling. Winter is a great time to explore the tide pools a bit while the water is too chilly for many of us who don’t own wetsuits to swim in comfortably. I hope you’ll enjoy this brief photo essay about this beautiful park; I’ve only scratched the surface of what it has to offer visitors and will surely return to it.

Getting to watch this western snowy plover foraging in the outgoing tide was an utter delight. This is a threatened shorebird species that has been helped by the Endangered Species Act. You can learn more about this important protection here at the Center for Biological Diversity’s website.

These golden cliffs are filled with native vegetation that sustains wildlife.

Because the tide pools are part of the Crystal Cove State Marine Conservation Area, collection is prohibited, but I made an exception for this plastic water bottle cap. I remove a great many of these from our beaches and parks.

You can see both solitary and aggregating anemones here at low tide with sea jewels applied to their backs.

We humans are a part of nature. Its condition reflects our behaviors and values.

The inflow and outflow of tides create striking compositions in the sand.

This lone sanderling and I stared at each other for awhile.

With the sun setting over Catalina Island, it was time to drive home to San Diego. Prints of this soothing photograph are available. Feel free to send me a message if you’re interesting in owning another piece I’ve shared here. Thanks for supporting living artists.

—Robin Street-Morris