I had a lot of fun with Mary when she shot these fantastic pictures!

MaryALivingston's avatarSneaking Bliss

As I sat down to paint this morning, movement in the field on the other side of the pond caught my attention.  The distance, about 250 yards, from the window was a bit far for a nice shot. Tim and I quietly slipped around the south side of the dam, then  belly crawled to get within 100 yards. This nice black-tailed buck in rut was watching a doe by one of the lower ponds.

We must have been a sight, laying on our bellies, in the rain soaked grass, stalking the deer for a photo. The buck did not notice us at all. He was captivated by her scent.  She was nervous, people crawling through the grass and taking aim her way was more than she could stand. She bolted up the hill and over the ridge with him in hot pursuit.

Gotta sneak bliss when you can, even when…

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The Hot Seat

The Hot Seat

While cruising down the road through the burn I came across this chair.  It was sitting quietly off to the side of the road in what had previously been a thicket.  It was out of place in the middle of the forest.  I don’t know for certain how it came to this place.  Probably an old hunter left it behind.  Someone who used it to sit comfortably for a long time in a place where he or she could watch for unsuspecting deer to cross the road.  Why had they left it?  Perhaps, it was simply forgotten, no longer useful, or maybe the hunter was successful and in all the excitement forgot to return for the chair.  I think it had been here a long time.  It sat there waiting for it’s hunter to return for season after disappointing season.  This year, as the anticipation of deer season grew closer, something else came.  Not the hunter.  Instead it was the conflagration.  For a few fiery minutes it became The Hot Seat.  The fire roared passed leaving exposed the transformed steel skeletal remains of what was once the chair.  Quietly, it still sits and waits.

Welcome Guests

Doe having a little breakfast.

Yesterday morning as I was heading out for work I stopped off to start up a pump.  This doe was munching on some breakfast at the pump.  Nearby two buck startled and decided to leave.

Away they go.

These two big bucks saw me and decided it was time to move on.
Up over the hill.

Away they go.

There was one more buck and he was happy to have his picture taken.

Still has some velvet.

The money shot.

Handsome fella.

Oh deer!

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Opportunities for a picture like this don’t happen when you work in an office. I love my job.

How Is A Forester Like An Artist?

The forester and the artist both create landscapes.  Only a forester’s canvas is far larger than an artist’s canvas.  The artist uses pencils, pens, brushes and all the other tools that create the play of color and light on paper.  The forester’s tools are far larger, louder and powerful.  They are the skidders, feller-bunchers, chainsaws, yarders and seedlings.  Okay, I know what you are thinking, what kind of baloney is this guy selling.  When we look out at a forest we see a beautiful thing.  Harvesting trees changes how that forest looks and develops.  The conventional wisdom may be that harvesting trees makes a forest ugly and at stages along the way I would agree.  That is all part of the process.  When an area is burned in a wildfire and the salvage harvest is complete it looks pretty bad to most folks.  This is only one stage in the development of an ever-changing picture.  Soon the seedlings come and it is no longer a barren clearcut, but it is a brand new forest.

A new forest rising from ashes of a wildfire.

Each year the trees grow and the picture is adorned with deer, turkeys and other wildlife that forage in this new forest.  As a forester I relish the changes I see with each passing year and how our work adds to the picture.  For a forester the picture is never done so we have to appreciate it for what it is at this moment in time.  Most folks have memories of that favorite camping spot in the forest that they went to as a child.  Memories that are so striking and indelible that they cannot imagine them ever changing.  However, these forest change every day.  Mostly slowly, but sometimes in blazing moments.  To the forest the changes are not good or bad, but simply different.  To the forester it is a canvas on which to apply his or her trade.  The forest changes and grows and our pictures change with it.  We may not always agree on what makes beautiful art or a beautiful forest, but I hope as practitioners of the trade we are passionate and dedicated to the process.

I did this watercolor for the children’s book Firestorm In The Forest , a Red Tail Publishing book.

As an artist working in the forest provides an endless source of subjects to paint or draw.  Never stale and always changing.  I never know when I will come across a bear crashing through the brush or a dramatic vista that will make me pause for a minute to take it in.