Nature: Not just for country-dwellers anymore.

For nearly a year, I supported myself as a nature photographer. It was kind of a racket, really. I had a mediocre digital camera. I went camping, took pictures of stuff that was really cool in its own right, and then sold the pictures to tourists who paid me for my "art." I don't have any qualms about the money I made. I know just enough about photography that my photos were way better than the crap snapshots the tourists inevitably get on their swamp tours, and I also had the guts to go way deeper into the swamp than they went, and to nearly get attacked by an alligator a couple of times, so I feel like I earned my cash through technical knowledge and sheer recklessness. Miss A the Crocodile Hunter. Eventually I got wrapped up in the business part of it and became a little disinterested, and also Hurricane Katrina pretty much ruined the gallery gig I had going on. In the meantime though, it was very awesome, because I love the swamp and camping and nature and animals.

Usually I spent my time in the swamp hoping to find snakes and snapping turtles and alligators...you know, like any city girl might hope. I love reptiles. They're the most interesting creatures...and there is nothing quite like staring head on at an alligator; it feels like looking 2 million years into the past. Like you're being hunted by something much bigger and more ancient than you. Ooh, I get chills thinking about it!

Anyway, some days you just don't get lucky when you're gator hunting; either the sun isn't out, or there's too much sun, or you came at the wrong time, or it's raining, or whatever. And in those cases, when your income is riding on finding a great shot to impress the tourists, you really have to make the best out of it and look for something else. And there is one thing you can always count on in the swamp: birds.

Southern Louisiana has a very unique and diverse avian population, being on the south end of the migratory pattern for northern species of birds and the north end for southern species. If it flies, migrates, and lives anywhere in the eastern US, you can probably find it in Louisiana at some point during the year. Nearly all of southern Louisiana is saturated as well by the Mississippi and Atchafalaya flood plains, and these rivers provide the last fresh-water stop before birds have to cross the Gulf of Mexico. Louisiana is also gross and has lots of bugs, which provides food for the birds. The birds themselves provide food for other birds: Raptors.

While trolling around in my canoe or tromping around the boardwalks, I have seen more hawks and falcons and owls and eagles and kites than I ever knew existed, and I developed an amazing appreciation for these ferocious and occasionally adorable hunters. I have this great shot (I've been looking for it everywhere, but can't find it) of a red tailed hawk shaking water off its feathers. It looks like a little puffball with feet!

I used to see all this stuff only a half hour's drive from New Orleans. It was great having nature so close to you, and permeating your very existence in a very urban place.

So imagine how pleased I was to see a red tailed hawk today in Prospect Park! Somewhere between the nethermead and the lake, she (it was a she) floated over my head and landed on a tree stump next to the road. I stopped and stared. She stared back. Other runners didn't even notice. A cop drove by and scared her back and up about twenty feet. I was sad and wished I had a camera, or at least my phone. I waved at her and ran along toward the boathouse and my Sunday coffee at K-Dog.


Update:

Okay, so I went back through all my photos when looking for the photo at the header, and I take it all back, the bit about the racket. Every shot is worth thirty times more what I ever made on it. Those tourists ripped me off; they weren't paying me nearly enough.