Parker Jackson Wilderness Photography — Intimate encounters with nature

After hiking and waiting around for a few hours, I was just about to pack up and call it a day. The only remotely interesting wildlife so far was a variety of birds, but with noon approaching, I was ready to head back since the light is generally at its worst in the middle of the day. But before I left, I heard a faint noise that I couldn't quite pinpoint -- and couldn't quite ignore. Sometimes the source is close by, but the animal is small and quiet. Sometimes the source is much further away, but coming from something a little larger. I considered disregarding it, but I grew convinced that there were some grouse or birds of some type in the bushes not far away. I slowly walked towards the bushes, and listened for the faint noise to repeat again. It was infrequent and rather quiet. Each time I heard it, I stepped forward a few more feet and would pause for a better perspective on the source. I reached the bushes where I thought the grouse may be hiding, and then I heard the noise again. It was so faint, without any clear change in volume or direction... but clearly further away somewhere. With no wind or anything else making noise, it was an exceptionally quiet morning. After five or so minutes, I finally figured it out. The first calls were carrying from much much further than I would have expected, but now that it was closer I was able to get eyes on the target. It was a big bull moose quietly vocalizing for a mate. Moose aren't loud when they vocalize, and his call was slightly different from other moose I've heard in the past. I sprang into action. I knew that he was on to something and he was walking on a very specific line. This moose was on a mission... a mission to find a mate. Unfortunately, I was north of him, and the light would have been much better if I were on the south side. The distance, speed, elevation, and conditions were just not conducive for me to get on the better side of the light, so I did the best I could with the situation. The bull saw me clearly and he paused to size me up as moose often do. He quickly went back to the business of smelling around and scouting the area for a female. Soon, I would find where she had been sleeping, but she and her yearling calf must have left earlier that morning. The bull was tracking her whereabouts, and that was the only thing on his mind. He didn't care one bit about me, and I probably could have followed him for miles if my legs could have kept up. In total, he spent around 30 minutes around treeline where I had intercepted him. He was determined to continue tracking the female and I bid him good-bye as he disappeared into the thick forest. Super impressive bull. Not the biggest that I've ever seen in Colorado, but perhaps in the top 10 that I've photo'd thus far in the state. His antlers show signs of a few serious battles, but judging by everything else I would guess that he's often winning those battles. At his closest, I would estimate he was 40-50 feet away. Fun encounter.

Shortly after photographing this couple for ~2 hours, I heard a single rifle shot ring out... and with Oct 2 being opening day for moose rifle hunting season- I'm relatively sure that the mother or the yearling is now gone. This pair was casually walking through the forest when I first spotted them. They weren't alarmed by my presence, and the little one even seemed a bit curious. They both laid down and took a nap while I took a bunch of unremarkable photos. My hope was that they would drift towards an aspen grove that was in full yellow fall colors, but they were inclined to stay deep in the pines. After a long wait, I decided to part ways when they began drifting north. I went south back to my car about a half mile away. About fifteen minutes after walking away, that's when I heard the gun. A single shot is a good sign that the animal didn't suffer and run off. Moose populations are healthy, and legal hunting is something that I support -- even if it's difficult to know that one of these creatures was taken. Hopefully the hunter makes the most of their bounty. I sometimes wonder what impact I may have had, but it's impossible to know. The hunter may have been watching and waiting for me to leave, or it all may have been a random coincidence of timing.

When I first began walking towards a group of wild horses in the distance, I had no idea that all of them (and many others) would all pass right by me just a few feet away.The horses were so far away at first that I thought I'd have a great deal of space to get into a good position. But, in short order there were horses coming from a different direction that seemed keen on walking right up to me. I was out of position, but when these sorts of things happen, I just go with the flow for better or worse. For the sake of brevity, I'm not including pictures or much about the first group of horses, because they were soon upstaged by two other groups that used the area directly in front of me as an arena for their brief battle. Posturing made it clear that tempers were flaring. In a flash, the more aggressive brown horse, lashed out at the roan mustang. A sharp bite to the neck prompted an emotional reaction. The main character in this story bit three horses in short succession... the first bite being the most serious and dramatic, with the other two arguably just a show of force. Unfortunately, I missed out on much better images in a number of ways. I was too low, the sun was behind them and either I let off the shutter or my camera buffered at the wrong time and I subsequently missed a few of the better moments.If I could do it all over again and magically place myself anywhere without impacting the scene, I would have been on the opposite side of these horses ~100'ish feet from where I actually was situated. This would have put me on slightly higher ground and also on the right side of the light. Without seeing their hooves meet the ground and cast in their own shadow, this was far from ideal photographically, but still super cool to watch up close. I'll take what I can get, and I'm really glad to have had the vantage point that I did.

September 16th turned out to be pretty incredible. There's too much to compress into one post, but suffice to say that a lot can happen in 24 hours when the stars align. Between a lightning storm, my car nearly breaking down in the desert again, and several really nice wild horse encounters -- I eventually stumbled upon this group of horses at the end of the day. Many people might criticize the close proximity of the climax in this encounter, but I believe the context is very important in every situation. There's a philosophical argument to be had (IMO) about distance in situations like these. In this situation, I had been sitting in a fixed position in the sage brush for over thirty minutes while photographing a group of wild horses that were ~400 feet away. The landscape and light was amazing. The clouds were a spectacular backdrop and I was hoping to frame the horses, landscape and clouds all in one image. The unexpected highlight came when one particular horse approached. Perhaps 600+ feet away at first, he seemed disinterested in everything except standing in place and soaking up the sun. Eventually, though, he began walking to catch up to his group that was steadily grazing westward (to my left). A direct path through the open terrain would have kept him a couple hundred feet away from me, but he made a very deliberate detour. Slowly and slowly he grazed. 200 feet away, 100ft., 50ft and so on. He was calm as could be. There were no jitters, no nervous body language… just grazing and glancing. He passed by uneventfully. I remained seated and watched them all slowly drift away. It was a remarkable moment to have such a gentle and gorgeous creature willingly approach so closely.

Thirty or so minutes into photographing a small group of wild horses (not pictured) that were grazing on the northern boundary of the Sand Wash Basin herd management area, I noticed a pair of horses on the opposite side of the fence. Roughly a half-mile away, the pair was slowly drifting our direction down the fence line. At first I didn't think much of it, but pretty quickly I decided to walk over to the fence because it seemed like they may keep coming my way. I walked the hundred or so yards to the fence line (away from the larger group of horses that were within the boundary), and almost immediately the pair on the outside began running to me. Their eyes were focused on me, and their expressions suggested desperation and stress. In an instant, they were only ~15 feet away. The adult was stressed and calling out to the other horses. They briefly paced back and forth, and perhaps after realizing that there was no way through the fence- they ran back down the fence to where I had first seen them. Looking back on the photos, it became obvious that the filly yearling had recently been caught up in the barbed wire fence. I wonder how they got on the other side, but it was clear that they wanted back and they were stressed out about the situation. I wish that I could have done something, and I hope that they find their way back. It was a pretty incredible encounter given the distance that they ran and how closely they approached. The light was decent even though it was lightly raining at the same time. I love a lot of the shots, despite the unfortunate circumstance.

More details coming soon.

More details coming soon.

More details coming soon.

Whenever I'm driving out of Sand Wash Basin -- especially if it's early in the morning -- I'm always on the lookout for burrowing owls. Despite their small size, they're easy to spot when they're in the air because of their distinct flying style and relatively large wings. It was hot and dry and I had given up on seeing horses for the morning. Just before I reached the main highway, I spotted something flying near the road and I instantly knew it was an owl. The smoke-filled morning light gave things a reddish tint, and luckily the owls stayed put long enough for a handful of shots. If I didn't have an early appointment with the mechanic, I might have stayed longer and attempted more shots. There were at least 5 of them in the family and they were all very active and vocal with each other, which made for a fun encounter (albeit brief).

On this second day of the trip to Sand Wash Basin, I tried to get an early start before the heat became too much. It turned out that the heat wouldn't end the day, but rather a mechanical issue with my 4x4 would be the decisive factor. Before getting stranded in the desert sagebrush I was fortunate enough to cross paths with a small group that featured a blue-eyed beauty and a gorgeous black roan foal. I'm always hopeful that they'll walk or run up to me for a closer look, but they decided to pass me by. I headed on down the road and could hear something misbehaving with a wheel, so I decided to stop. I'm glad that I didn't push it because I am 100% sure that serious damage and potentially a major fire would have occurred. A $9, but very important, part had worn out and it would take 12 hours before I was back in action (which was pretty good considering the remoteness of where I had to stop). Still a fun day, albeit brief and with a major curve-ball that upended the day.

One of my "goals" (if that's the right way to put it) with wild horses has been to breakthrough in the same type of way that I've experienced with moose and bighorn. Close-ups and trust are one thing, but what I've secretly wanted is for a wild horse to trust me enough that it will lay down next to me. Moose have done this repeatedly and the bighorn herd that I regularly photograph in winter has also shown this level of trust, but before today I've not had the same thing happen with wild horses. I arrived again in Sand Wash Basin, and as always, I wondered if any of them would come right up to me. The very first opportunity on this trip turned out to be the most memorable. I had been driving for several hours from central Colorado and was ready to get out of the car by the time I reached the basin. I noticed a few small groups of horses in the distance, so I just decided to park the car and walk. I wasn't sure which lens to take (the 500mm long reach or the 100-300mm for wider and close-up flexibility). I forgot my cell phone but immediately remembered it ... but decided to just leave it in the car. I never know in retrospect how different choices might have made things better or worse, but I went with the 500mm because the horses were all so far away and I had no expectation that any of them would run up to me so quickly. About a half mile into the hike towards one group of horses to my left, I noticed a few ears perk up on the hilltop to my right. I immediately took a seat and all of the images shown here are another one of my "no step" encounters where I do not move an inch for the entire sequence. As this is also my 500mm, there is no change in focal length (no zooming in or out). At first just two dark brown horses appeared... and then a third in white. I could immediately see the signs of curiosity with strong notes of threat assessment. The smallest of the three led the way. Trotting then pausing... galloping then pausing again. A third horse casually followed. Closer and closer they came. I could see them all quickly relax. Soon they resumed grazing, which is one of the main signals that I like to see. They were close enough to know that I wasn't a threat, and trusting enough to lower their heads while grazing and drifting my direction. It was at this point that I (partly) wished that I had my cell phone and/or a wider lens. Because the horses were now ~40 feet away after having been ~700 feet away just a moment prior, my 500mm lens was now too much for the situation. But, changing lenses wasn't an option. So, for better or worse, I did what I could with the big lens. Then, it happened... well sort of. My dream situation is a sit-down-and-hang-out type of encounter where one or more horses stays with me for a good amount of time. I was elated to see what happened next. The white horse started showing more interest in me than the others. Then all of a sudden he laid down and began to roll in the dirt right by me! He was maybe 20-25 ft away, and I knew that there was no way for me to frame his full body in the shot. I did what I could to capture the brief moment, and thankfully I didn't blow the opportunity entirely. It was pretty tough to keep his face in the shot since he was so very close while unpredictably moving all around, but I love some of his glances and the unique perspective. I've never been so close to a wild horse where they did something like this. While he didn't sit with me for long, I'm thrilled for the baby-step towards a more intimate encounter. This was very much a first for me. The mustang showed no stress, no concern, just being himself and trusting that I was a passive part of the landscape. He stood back up, shook off the dirt and grass -- and then went back to grazing. Slowly all three drifted away. I had only been at the basin for a few minutes (minus the drive time to this particular spot), and was immediately greeted in spectacular fashion. Sometimes I feel like I should just pack up and leave when something so good happens so fast, but I stayed a couple more days (with mixed results). The light wasn't all that great because of cloud cover, but those clouds made it cooler and really helped with heatwaves and sharp contrasts. I hope that this close-up roller isn't the last time something like this happens. Maybe I'll start using the wider angle lens more, but it's tough to use anything else when the 500mm performs so well in many of this unpredictable situations that are typically further away. To be continued...