Parker Jackson Wilderness Photography — Intimate encounters with nature

Just as I was wrapping up my hike, I heard something big walking in the water... but the forest was far too dense for me to see it. I was nearly certain that it was a moose, and sure enough I spotted a pair of young (likely 2 year old) twin female moose. The first moose was either spooked by the faint outline of me that she could see, or perhaps they were already moving it along to somewhere else. I didn't have a good shot through the trees and I could hear that they were moving out of sight quickly. So, I tried to quickly and quietly get to a better view of them. The first moose was long gone, but the second stuck around just long enough for a couple pictures. It could have been a great set of shots had I arrived at that spot a few minutes earlier.. but that's just how it goes. Nice to see them out and about.

On the final afternoon of my return visit to northern Nevada, I almost went out of my way to go the opposite direction of the horses. I knew that the trio was grazing about a mile or so south of the lake, but I wanted to sit by the water and so I walked to the lake instead. After hiking a mile and a half, I picked a spot on the west side of the lake and I began to photo a few of the shore birds. I'm simultaneously completely surprised and also not surprised at all by what happened next. The horses must have taken notice and decided to join me. They didn't run at full speed, but their direction was deliberate and unmistakable. Of all the spots along the shore to visit, they again walked right up to me. Perhaps I was just a novelty in their simple lives, perhaps they liked the company or perhaps it was something else. Regardless of the reason in their minds, I am fascinated and bewildered that they would walk over a mile and repeatedly join me. On this afternoon, they walked right up before heading on past to the lake to quench their thirst. Shortly after, they walked right back and grazed around me. The light was fading, and it was time for me to say good-bye -- perhaps for the last time. I'm not sure if I will ever see them again, but it was great to see that they are still thriving in their isolated island in the northern desert of Nevada.

With the seasonal lake filled to the brim, I couldn't resist the opportunity with the horses and the water. Their reaction to me yesterday was somewhat reassuring, but by no means a guarantee. They had a lot more caution than last October's visit, and of course I could only hope that they'd come back around me. I saw the horses south of the lake, but I decided to head away from them and walk to the water instead. Perhaps the horses always go to the water in the morning, or perhaps they decided to come over because I was there -- but in short order all three horses started heading over to me. Led by the young stallion with the rust-colored mane, they trotted over from well over 1,000 feet away. The attitude from them on this day was a bit different than the day before and again much different than last October. There was a curiosity, but it lacked the same confidence or passion. They almost felt lonely.. and they sought me out to at least have something exciting to interact with. But, a nervousness also lurked beneath the surface. The young leader wanted to come close, but he would spook himself at times. They came to within 15 feet at first and then trotted a short distance away shortly after. With the position of the sun and their comfort level in mind, I decided to walk to the other side of the water so that I could photo them in a better position... even if much further away. The reflections were great, and the visiting birds were a nice bonus. The American Avocet was the most colorful and notable bird in the bunch with it's long/curved beak and elegant plumage. The heat waves on the cloudless day took over in short order, so I kept this session fairly brief. I went back to the shade of the campsite and would return for one last visit near sunset when the horses would trot directly up to me once more.

In hopes of seeing the trio of wild horses and the owls from October, I decided to return to northern Nevada where I had last spotted them. It's an extremely remote area and arguably too hot already, but I wanted to give it a shot since I was just a few hours away. Recent rains made for a few questionable spots in the road, but I was able to work my way back to the exact same spot. The dry lake from October was now filled with water and the surrounding brush was a brighter green for miles around. My instinct was that I would find the horses again, but I really had no idea what to expect. If I was able to find them, I wondered if they'd react the same way as before. When I was about two miles from the lake, I noticed the unmistakable outline of horses down below. I stopped the car and grabbed the binoculars. Sure enough, it was the same three horses. I could clearly identify their markings from a long ways away, but I could also see that they were reacting to the car by turning away and trotting the other direction. I slowly resumed my advance down the road. The rolling hills took me out of their view momentarily, and when I reappeared on the next hill, the horses again started trotting away. This was a different reaction already, and I wasn't willing to risk disturbing them with my car. I had driven a long long ways, and there wasn't a soul around for miles and miles. There was no reason to drive closer, when I could just park and walk. I figured that I had a much better chance on foot given what I was seeing in this initial reaction, despite being nearly a mile away. I walked a half mile or so, and the horses could clearly see me. They showed a bit of interest at least, but they remained mostly focused on grazing. I drifted slightly closer as they did the same. I eventually picked a spot and just let them make all the moves from there out. I was able to see that a few big changes had occurred since the last visit. The leader had changed. Instead of the larger stallion with the black mane leading the trio, now the younger rust-colored stallion was dictating their direction. He had gained a lot of weight and his mane was much longer than before. He and the others came up to greet me eventually, and it was a great sign of what was to come. They might not have raced up to me like before, but they were unquestionably curious about me. The harsh light and heatwaves were going to be tough, but I was optimistic about the potential with them again. It had been a long day of driving and so I kept this session brief. The horses watched on as I walked back to the car. We'd pick back up where we left off the next morning.

More details coming soon.

Less than a mile from the East Yellowstone entrance, I was fortunate to catch a quick glimpse of this impressive bear before it headed on up the mountain and out of sight. The roads were busy with cars hustling in and out of the park as is expected this time of year. Thankfully, there were attentive drivers as the bear began to cross and the four or so cars in front of me quickly slowed. When I realized it was a bear, I drove off the road entirely into the sloped median. I was surprised that everyone else continued on, but then there I was parked in an awkward spot and I knew the bear was close. The only way to see uphill was through the sunroof, so I opened it entirely and scanned the higher terrain by the road. I slowly drove forward and I was shocked that it was perhaps only 80ish feet away. The steep slope also put him nearly 40 ft. above me. The slanted road and open roof put me on a great line of sight, but I had to rush to grab the camera and snap a shot before the moment was over. The bear looked directly into the camera as I raised it out of the car. I went to look through the viewfinder and !!! my lens cap was on !!! I very quickly removed it, but the slight delay cost me the money shot. The bear turned to his right and I wasn't able to get the sharpest picture of his face unfortunately. It was a very exciting moment, and I was perhaps a little toooo excited. I was lucky to even have a chance at a shot, but I definitely missed a great opportunity. Hoping to see another one soon.

After the two fantastic morning sessions with these wild horses, I hardly expected another on the same day. I decided to drive a couple miles away from them in the afternoon to find a nice spot away from the popular areas where tourists gather. Several hours later, the entire group ran over near where I had stopped much to my surprise. They passed by me and then stopped about a quarter mile away. After the temperatures cooled down a bit and before the light was gone for the day, I went out for one more opportunity with them.

An early sunrise and a restful night made for a quick start on this gorgeous June morning on day 2 at McCullough Peaks herd management area. On day 1, the main herd was mostly disinterested in me and they almost entirely kept together in a tight group a good distance away. With this being my first trip to the area and the herd's tendency to stay together in one big unit, I opted to stay further back and just watch them from a distance on the first afternoon. I packed up camp in hopes of finding them again with the early morning light and cool temperatures. Only a few minutes of driving, and I could see a few members of the group heading my general direction, with the larger group a bit out of sight, but presumably on the same line. I parked the car, grabbed the big 500mm lens and hiked out into the sage where I thought that they may graze next. My spot turned out to be fantastic, as all ~56 of them walked right by me and slowly passed further away. Those images will be posted separately and will eventually appear in a prior post to this one. After the horses passed, I walked back the quarter-mile to the car, grabbed my wider angle lens and then walked out a different direction to the next area where I thought they may graze. Again, they walked right up to me and around. Many of my journal posts are situations where I don't move an inch. This is another one of those "no-step" situations where I'm in a fixed spot. In this session, I'm using a 100-300mm lens, so there's a bit of zoom action to frame certain shots. No images are cropped in any image in this post, and the main character is in every image (even if not the subject). Similar to almost all of my other journal posts, these images are presented in chronological order. There are hundreds of additional pictures that show more of the herd as they grazed around me, but I've chosen this group of images to share the most memorable part of this particular session. The posted rules and regulations for this area indicate that visitors should remain 300 feet away and it is a violation to approach, harass or disturb the horses. Technically speaking, I very well could be in violation of that statute, even if the horses are clearly undisturbed. I would argue that I didn't approach, and that it's less of a disturbance to remain still than to get up and leave once they are within a certain distance. I'll happily take the heat or a day in court if it ever comes to it, because I think the images speak for themselves. These horses were most certainly not bothered by my presence, and in fact, many of them found me to be something of a curiosity. My eye had been on a young horse that kept looking at me intently. Many horses didn't even pay much attention to me, although 20 or so did walk up to within 20 feet for a closer look. I'm not sure of the proper color name of this juvenile, but I'll just refer to it as espresso cream (EC). He stood out with his great color, dark main and confident personality. More than any other horse, his gaze on me was constant. I was almost certain he would approach, so I kept the lens pointed his direction. Closer and closer he came. With over 50 horses all around me, I debated what shots to take. Too many options can lead me to be a bit scattered, but I resigned myself to staying in exactly the same spot. I would let the cards fall where they may, even if I might want pics that better showcased the full size of this impressive group. EC drifted closer as others came right up to me and went on about their way. When a painted horse and fellow juvenile in the herd approached closely, this seemed to be the moment that EC decided he would go ahead and also come take a look at me. The pair were clearly close, and the painted horse groomed EC for a moment while perhaps only 15 feet away. At one point, it was almost as if the painted horse whispered something in EC's ear as if to dare him to come even closer. EC took several steps forward. Now only 6-8 feet away, both juveniles were content just watching me and smelling the air to get a better sense about me. In these moments, I often put down the camera to connect more directly with the animal, even if that means potentially sacrificing some shots. EC took that as a cue to come even closer! At about four feet away he was almost too close to focus on, and obviously this distance is risky if not problematic. Every horse was perfectly calm. I was perfectly calm. The body language, demeanor and overall vibe gave me no basis for concern. I whispered to him that he was too close. He wanted to smell me more closely, and seemed like he wanted to touch me with his nose. At 2 feet away and his nose in the camera, I snapped my second to last shot of this set. He's too close for the lens to focus, but I like the shot because he's just so ridiculously close to the camera. I remained seated and just let them all pass along as they grazed westward. Eventually the whole group passed by and I got up and returned to the car. Later the horses would drift back to the road. I watched on from nearly a half-mile away at that point. Visitors and even tour buses drove right up to the horses and the group mostly remained undisturbed. I was somewhat surprised that the guided tours got out of the buses and approached the horses. It's different, in my opinion, when horses are on the roads and different when you start 40 ft away and walk up to 20 feet away -- as opposed to going out 1,000 feet away and remaining seated like I did. Even if a couple dozen horses were very close to me, especially EC and roughly 2 feet away, I don't categorize my behavior and the tourist behavior in the same way. I could see the tour bus visitors trying to touch some of the horses, and the horses would react by jerking away from the stranger. Even though I could have touched some of these horses, I didn't attempt it. It's hard to know where to draw the line sometimes, but I do my best to remain ethical and considerate of the situation. Gorgeous moment with fabulous light. Later that day, I drove a couple miles to the another area of the HMA. This same group, coincidentally, ran over to where I was parked and we'd get another up-close session several hours later.

In my first of two morning sessions, I had no idea that all ~56 of the wild horses would walk right up to me while they peacefully grazed. It was a gorgeous, calm morning just after sunrise and I was the only one at the HMA so far. The prior day was less than ideal because of the heat, busy visitors and the general inactivity of the group. I finally felt like I might have a chance at seeing better activity/shots develop. I spotted a few of the horses not far from where they had been the prior day. I couldn't see the whole group because of the rolling hills, but with enough of them visible I was able to get a read on where they might go next. I walked out into the sage 1,000 or so feet away from the horses that I could see and I waited. Slowly but surely they drifted my direction. They knew that I was there, but had no adverse reaction or visible concern. Eventually, all of them would walk right around me on both sides. At times I was at the center of them all. Some came close to take a closer look, but most just slowly walked on by. I had no idea that they would be this close, so I was using the long 500mm lens... especially since the group remained so far away the prior day. But, as it would turn out, this wasn't really the right lens for a lot of shots -- even if it was great for some up-close portraits. This sequence of shots is another 'no-step' situation on my part where I remain in a fixed location with a fixed focal-length lens for all images shown here. There are thousands of additional images from this set, but for the sake of time and other reasons I'll just upload a couple dozen here. After the group passed by, I walked back to the car and switched lenses for a slightly wider angle on them. Those images can be found in my next journal entry. Lots more to say about this group and this session, but I'll have to circle back another day to update journal entries with more detail. Really great morning with the group.

Many of my journal posts are situations where I don't move an inch. This is another one of those "no-step" situations where I'm in a fixed spot with a fixed focal-length lens. No images are cropped, no zooming-in or out has occurred in any image in this post. On my first proper afternoon in McCullough Peaks HMA, I was watching a larger group of horses that was intent on staying put around 1,000 or so feet away. While seated, a pronghorn ran right up to me, but then of course ran away once it realized what was sitting there. Then, I noticed a few of the horses looking intently another direction. Behind me, two horses approached. The first was well ahead of the second, and it made a deliberate turn to me as it neared the other horses. A moment later, the second horse decided to run towards me on a much more direct line. Similar to the first, it started well over a quarter mile away and then moved closer to me at around 50 or so feet. Eventually coming to within 20 feet, it galloped by me and then changed course back to follow the first horse towards the larger group of horses. It was a nice little drive-by. Presumably they just wanted to take a closer look at me. They weren't bothered and weren't inquisitive enough to stop and linger. I would come to realize over the next couple days that these two were outsiders from the larger group that consisted of about 56 individuals. I was a bit discouraged that the larger group showed absolutely no interest in me, but that would change the next morning!

I sometimes question myself when I'm taking random back roads into unknown territory. They can lead to dead ends, wasted time and other regrets. But, without them I would have missed out on oh-so-many gorgeous moments. I try to remind myself when I'm on a boring or seemingly unfruitful stretch that it just comes with the territory. Michael Jordan was quoted as saying "You miss every shot that you don't take", and I apply his words to a lot of things like this in my photography adventures. I was on one of these spontaneous routes around McCullough Peaks HMA when I spotted a large raven up ahead. There had been no pronghorn, no horses and really nothing at all for several miles until this raven appeared. Its large size and jet black color stood out against the sage filled backdrop. He was right by the road and I didn't think much of it as I slowly approached on the bumpy high-clearance trail. The raven flew away only a moment before I reached it, and behold he was perched above something the whole time! A loud bahhh-bahhhh called out as I passed by something very small. The sound reminded me of a little baby bighorn lamb. I immediately stopped the car, and turned it off. The camera is always in the front seat in places like this, so I was very quick to get eyes on the animal. It was a baby pronghorn (antelope)!!! I tried to compose myself and capture the moment as best I could. I was excited, concerned and also unsure of what lens would be best in this particular moment that might be gone in an instant. I snapped a few quick shots with my 300mm lens when it was right by the road. Then, it ran about 50 ft. away and paused. I decided to quickly swap lenses. My instinct about the fawn was that it was separated from its mother and that the large raven (nearly the same size) was waiting for an opportunity to strike. I was wrong about being orphaned or lost, as I learned after-the-fact when researching pronghorn fawn behavior. Apparently, in the first 21-26 or so days in a fawns life, they are left completely alone and only spend 20-25 minutes per day with their mothers. After that, they are grouped into a nursery and eventually keep up with the adult group full time. This little baby was in that first stage, but at the time I didn't know that. With the raven lurking, my instinct was to get the baby to call out to its mother again. I knew that there had been no pronghorn for my entire approach, but in that moment I noticed a pronghorn female appear on a hill maybe a quarter mile away. I thought that this must be the mother and that she heard that first loud call from the fawn. I decided to flush the baby once more in hopes it would call out again and that they could reunite. In hindsight, I should have just stayed put for a moment and taken pictures of it laying down in the sage. I was more concerned about them reuniting, so I walked a bit closer until the fawn got up and called out once more. It ran towards the adult on the hill and I decided to drive away so that I would hopefully not interrupt anything further. I wonder how many days old this little one was? It's pretty amazing that they are all alone like that for so long during their first three weeks. Getting a good, close-up, shot of a pronghorn has been on my list of goals, so it was really amazing to see one like this. I felt bad for disturbing the fawn at all, but it was literally only a few inches off of the road (albeit a very infrequently traveled one). My mistaken concern about being separated and in distress is another reminder for me to just watch on as an impartial observer. Great little moment.