Category Archives: Photos

A boy and his cow #1

Never had I considered Keigan’s efforts noteworthy prior to attending the Waskom FFA Jackpot Show.  Well, perhaps I unintentionally disparage his efforts when no disparagement is meant.  Always have I considered what he hopes to accomplish with Bella a noteworthy endeavor.  But photographically and linguistically?  Not so much.

So when he and his parents invited me to attend their first show, I happily agreed, not only because I consider them dear friends but also because I had never before seen a livestock show.  That Keigan hopes to gain university entry via his efforts has not escaped me, thus I have wished him well since I first discovered this project, and yet I had not fully recognized or appreciated the fullness of the whole, but rather I had observed and participated in the smallness of this part and that part.

But a show?  Their first show together?  A collective step forward on the path that hopefully will become his collegiate ticket and her lasting well-being?  Or more importantly, the preliminary go at a years-long journey that wends about such hopes and ambitions and promises as to require Herculean strength, Heraclean endurance, and Damon and Pythias-like friendship and loyalty?  Yes, their first show together represented a very different—and much bigger—aspect of this than I had considered.

Denise and Keigan tending to Bella prior to the livestock show (20120818_02831)

In the weeks preceding the show I asked Keigan repeatedly if he felt nervous.  “Not at all” he would flippantly reply, though no one involved believed him.  While Bella had participated in a few shows prior to her becoming Keigan’s partner, he had no experience with the show circuit or its idiosyncrasies or the totality of its myriad requirements, requirements fluid and unpredictable and based on the personality of each judge.

Yet denial can be a powerful sedative to calm frayed nerves; likewise it can be a stimulant that awakens distressed anxiety.  Therefore we urged him to accept his concern as normal, to admit it insofar as it would help balm them.  But Keigan is young, and as the young are wont to do he maintained the strength of his denial even as his friends and family recognized the growing worms of fear and doubt squirming beneath his skin.

Keigan spending time with Bella prior to the livestock show (20120818_02837)

When at least he stood upon the verdant grass of the Marshall City Arena and faced the magnitude of what was to come, surrounded by trailers galore and enough livestock to fill a farm, the boy who is a young man refused to crumble, refused to sway before the force of this thing he hopes to accomplish.

Passing up the opportunity to play in that day’s high school football game because, as he said, Bella represents his best chance to fund college, the maturity oft hidden beneath carefree youth seized the worms of fear and doubt and, though unable to kill them, it nonetheless sought to take control of them—he nonetheless sought to take control of them.

Bella foaming at the mouth (20120818_02839)

As much as in response to Keigan’s worry as to her own, Bella’s apprehension manifested in many ways, some of it behavioral and some of it psychosomatic.  Her previous experiences notwithstanding, she had not before faced a show with Keigan, and like all animals under such circumstances she was as much attuned to her own stress as to his.  Any chance for their collective success hinged directly on their ability to work together, to overcome those relentless worms of fear and doubt, to deny them fodder for growth and to stop their incessant wriggling.

The Keigan and Bella cheering squad: his parents, Kurt and Denise, his ag teacher, and family friends (20120818_02851)

Yet both the boy and his cow had unremitting support from family and friends, not to mention his ag teacher (agricultural education teacher for the uninitiated).  While not one of us entertained the idea that we could magically cure the stressful ills Keigan and Bella faced, we accepted as undeniable truth that we could be there for them, lending ear and shoulder and words and strength, the quantifiable and unquantifiable manifestations of relentless succor.

Keigan and Bella sharing a moment before the livestock show (20120818_02854)

At last time came to enter the showground.  Significant time still separated us from their preliminary entry into the arena, their first joint effort to show, yet Keigan and Bella had to face the initial obstacle: his leading her from the trailer to the competition area.

Alone together, he soothed her and she him, the two reaching through the worms of fear and doubt to seize upon the powerful relationship they had built in the months prior.  That relationship, I will admit, is as moving to witness as it must be intimate to experience.  Like Damon and Pythias from Roman mythology, Keigan and Bella have achieved a depth of loyalty and friendship from which burgeons unquestionable trust.  But would that be sufficient to stop the incessant squirming of those metaphorical worms?

Keigan and Bella leaving the trailer behind as they head into the arena for the livestock show (20120818_02855)

Where he leads she follows, and so she did on that day, albeit from both a boy and his cow poured forth tangible fear borne of stress and self-doubt, borne of the unanswered questions growing from the daunting task they faced together: his first show and her first show with him.  Oh how the worms wriggled and writhed, obvious to any witness, yet equally how Keigan and Bella focused on each other to quell the incessant struggling within.

Keigan leading Bella to the arena for the livestock show (20120818_02856)

So their first show began, a journey started months before heading toward fruition with those first few steps, the safety and comfort of the known left behind and the trouble and trepidation of the uncertain ahead.  We did not know what to expect.

And always in the background the worms of fear and doubt twisted and turned and fidgeted, distractions from the task at hand and enemies of goals within reach.

— — — — — — — — — —

Photos:

  1. Keigan and his mother Denise tending to Bella prior to show
  2. Keigan and Bella prior to show
  3. Bella foams at the mouth when she’s stressed; this was her first show with Keigan, so her stress was as palpable as his
  4. The Keigan and Bella spirit squad: his parents, Kurt and Denise, his ag teacher, Bruce, and family friends
  5. Keigan and Bella sharing a moment before heading to the show arena; there is a real and tangible relationship here, one that has formed over time and is inspiring to witness
  6. Keigan leading Bella away from the trailer toward the show arena
  7. Keigan leading Bella to the show arena (notice the look on the background girl’s face)

And a less-than-stellar photo, a blooper as it were:

Bella foaming at the mouth with her tongue up her nose (20120818_02838)

Foaming at the mouth with her tongue up her nose, it seemed Bella refused to take the show as seriously as we expected.  Or at least she refused to take my photography efforts as seriously as I expected.

Owlfly

Kaylee, a second cousin, spent a few weeks here at the family farm.  She is a country girl, quite unlike her sister, and she’s ready and willing to get her hands dirty with whatever tasks need addressing, most especially if said tasks involve animals.

Feeding the chickens?  She’s there.  Picking up eggs?  She’s there.  Moving the cows from one pasture to another or putting out fresh bales of hay?  She’s there.  Tending to the horse and donkey?  She’s there.  Basically, when it comes to Kaylee, she doesn’t shun farm duties.

And though a young girl cursed with that most innate of shortcomings—an intrinsic fear of insects—she has spent sufficient time around me such that she no longer runs from critters but instead now calls my attention to them, asking questions and pondering identifications, considering each creature on its merits and inherent beauty rather than fleeing with hands waving and visceral scream wailing.  (She still doesn’t like handling them except under very specific circumstances however, and only very specific kinds of insects, like butterflies and moths, but I’ll keep working on this problem with hope that she’ll make further progress.)

A male four-spotted owlfly (Ululodes quadripunctatus) on a light pole (20120625_00503)

When she pointed out a large insect belly-up in the grass as a small wasp pestered it, I at first thought it a dragonfly, what with wings spread wide and long body and general size.  So when I picked it up and set it atop a bolt in the central light pole, immediately I recognized the error of my identification.  For it most certainly was not a dragonfly, but instead it was an owlfly.  More specifically, it was a male four-spotted owlfly (Ululodes quadripunctatus).

Close-up of a male four-spotted owlfly (Ululodes quadripunctatus) (20120625_00511)

Like their odonate cousins, owlflies are aerial predators, though not as aggressive as dragonflies.  But they are nevertheless predacious, thus they are considered beneficial insects.

A male four-spotted owlfly (Ululodes quadripunctatus) on a light pole (20120625_00518)

Warming itself in the meager light of dawn, the predator tolerated my constant in-his-face photography.  All the while Kaylee asked questions, attempting to learn about this visitor and his place in the world.

Close-up of a male four-spotted owlfly (Ululodes quadripunctatus) with his mandibles open (20120625_00529)

Though she remained unwilling to touch him or let him touch her—I’ll keep working on that—she stayed right there with me, looked closely, inquired about his disposition and condition, and otherwise sought to understand him and his existence.

A male four-spotted owlfly (Ululodes quadripunctatus) on a light pole (20120625_00553)

In the end we left him facing east, facing the growing warmth of a summer morning, facing the new day with hope.  And only a short time later, like his namesake avian brethren, the owlfly had silently and suddenly vanished, disappeared into surrounding woods.

Thankfully he left us better for the encounter.

A boy and his cow

I don’t do people photography.  That has been a mainstay of my photographic endeavors for many years.  Not because I don’t like taking pictures of people, but rather because my focus has remained on nature and has met with success in that arena.  And this has left me with a rather daunting lack of experience when it comes to photographing people, thus my unflinching comfort with ignoring that area.  At least until now.

An artistic impression of my friend Keigan and his calf Bella leaving the Waskom FFA Jackpot Show in Marshall, TX

Those who I consider dear friends, Denise, Kurt and Keigan, recently invited me to a livestock event, the Waskom FFA Jackpot Show, and their invitation came via the fact that one of them—Keigan—is pursuing collegiate entry by way of a FFA show cow, the calf named Bella.

Thus begins my tale, both linguistic and photographic.

This is about a boy, Keigan, and his cow, Bella.  But it’s also about photography, FFA, family, friends and college.  Most importantly, it’s about life.

I will learn about taking pictures of people and livestock in the same moments that I decide to share those moments with you.  I will learn to cherish and protect my beloveds in the same moments that I share those moments with you.  And I will learn to understand livestock and farm life at the same moments that I share those moments with you.

So come with me, if you will, on this journey:

Dear friends recently asked me to attend a livestock show with them, most notably because one of them is showing a calf hoping to place well as means to earn university passage.  This is their story.

Above: Keigan and Bella leaving the Waskom FFA Jackpot Show in Marshall, TX.  More to come from this show, not to mention from their ongoing journey.

A timid approach named curiosity

Upon a desolate road I sat, a dirt road stretching between nowhere and no place.  Beneath the simmering sun I cooled myself in the car as I watched and waited.  Not for anything in particular, mind you, but instead I waited for anything.  That’s when she arrived, a female white-tailed deer (a.k.a. whitetail deer; Odocoileus virginianus).

A female white-tailed deer (a.k.a. whitetail deer; Odocoileus virginianus) rounding a grassy hillock (2009_05_22_020070)

Behind the windshield’s sunscreen I hunkered, behind the dark window tint I hid, and from there I watched her as she approached, finally taking station in the shade of an Ashe juniper (a.k.a. post cedar, mountain cedar or blueberry juniper; Juniperus ashei).

A female white-tailed deer (a.k.a. whitetail deer; Odocoileus virginianus) standing in the shade of a tree (2009_05_22_020068)

Repeatedly she glanced at the car, its quiet motor humming, its occupant camouflaged from view, only brief movements of the camera lens visible.  But obviously the click of the dSLR’s shutter called to her, for each photo captured brought her gaze back to me, back to the car.

A female white-tailed deer (a.k.a. whitetail deer; Odocoileus virginianus) watching and listening closely (2009_05_22_020066)

Expecting her to flee the unknown, much to my surprise she turned and approached, timidly, slowly, carefully, yet always forward, always looking, always curious.

Close-up of a female white-tailed deer (a.k.a. whitetail deer; Odocoileus virginianus) as she looks at the camera (2009_05_22_020080_c)

Eventually near enough for me to toss a rock to her, she stopped and stared, so docile and inquisitive, so standoffish and peculiar.  How I stared, wondering about this odd behavior, wondering what behooved her to seek enlightenment rather than shelter.

Close-up of a female white-tailed deer (a.k.a. whitetail deer; Odocoileus virginianus) as she looks timid yet curious (2009_05_22_020077)

A step closer she came, still curious, but when the shutter sounded this time, her ears went back with surprise and worry, yet she remained probing and unmoving, almost meek and needful.  Finally I stopped photographing her, instead choosing to watch her, to watch this strange and timid approach named curiosity.

Never before or since have I known a wild deer to be so forgiving of human encroachment in the name of satisfying unadulterated interest.

Killing a killer

Where the farm borders woodlands, in grass tall and verdant and dense, two predators vie for dominance in a world that shows no mercy, for in the wildness of this place the instinct to survive and procreate is the only instinct that matters.  And being a predator does not guarantee that you won’t become something else’s lunch.

Female green lynx spider (Peucetia viridans) in the grass with a female feather-legged fly (Trichopoda pennipes) held in her mouth (20120720_02266)

So it is when a female feather-legged fly (Trichopoda pennipes), a parasitoid, chances to meet a female green lynx spider (Peucetia viridans), an ambush predator.

Female green lynx spider (Peucetia viridans) in the grass with a female feather-legged fly (Trichopoda pennipes) held in her mouth (20120720_02274)

Though young and small, the arachnid hides in plain sight, her body color helping her blend with her surroundings, and there she waits with the patience only true ambush predators know, a stillness cloaking her like death, though her many eyes never cease looking, never cease watching, never cease measuring each chance to feed.

Female green lynx spider (Peucetia viridans) in the grass with a female feather-legged fly (Trichopoda pennipes) held in her mouth (20120720_02286)

A predator in her own right, one who lays eggs on other creatures where her young burrow in and feast on the still-living host, the fly perhaps ventures near the spider hoping to give her offspring an arachnid meal, or perhaps she does not see the threat lying in wait.  No matter the circumstances, the encounter pits one predator against another.

Female green lynx spider (Peucetia viridans) in the grass with a female feather-legged fly (Trichopoda pennipes) held in her mouth (20120720_02290)

As I circle, gently prying apart blades of grass hoping to snap a photo of the aftermath, the spider circles with me, protecting her catch yet not fleeing.  Lynx spiders do not run or hide easily, instead using their inherent stillness and stealth to hide, vanishing without moving.

Female green lynx spider (Peucetia viridans) in the grass with a female feather-legged fly (Trichopoda pennipes) held in her mouth (20120720_02293)

With enough images to identify her prey, I leave her where I found her, yet I do not walk away completely satisfied.  A mystery remains with her, one intrinsic in every such scene, one that begs answers when one killer kills another: What happened here?  How did the encounter unfold?  Was it luck or skill or a combination of both that created this result?

Female green lynx spider (Peucetia viridans) in the grass with a female feather-legged fly (Trichopoda pennipes) held in her mouth (20120720_02311)

Where the farm borders woodlands, in grass tall and verdant and dense, two predators vied for dominance in a world that shows no mercy.  Only one of them survived.