Parker Jackson Wilderness Photography — Intimate encounters with nature

I didn't quite realize just how strong the herds are in Waterton Canyon until my first day trip there recently. Bighorn are so prominent in fact, that dogs are prohibited for that specific reason. When I saw all the signs posted at the entrance, then I knew that I was in the right place for some potentially great shots. Thick clouds made for really low light conditions, and it was a surprisingly cold 24F when I began the hike at daybreak. Very quickly I started seeing bighorn here and there, but I was on the lookout for big rams so I kept on hiking. The wind and cold were not cooperating, so after 5ish miles I headed back after only a couple decent opportunities. On the way back though, the light steadily improved and eventually I stumbled upon a really nice group of bachelors on the trail. The canyon "trail" is really just a big dirt road that's closed off to cars, and it's a very popular spot for hikers, bikers and runners. The bighorn are accustomed to the locals and the locals are used to the bighorn, so everyone pretty much just goes on about their business when the sheep join the people on the trail-road. There are so many shots from this trip that it's hard to boil it down to just a few, but here are a couple dozen that I liked from the day. I love the group as they're coming down the road and facing right into the light. Great looking herd. I'll have to get down there again soon to see if I can witness any battles. The rams were super keyed-up as the mating season intensifies. It's such an interesting thing to watch as they rub heads and kick each other in this brotherly/social way in the build up this time of year.

It's been a while since I had a proper bighorn encounter, not for lack of trying however. I've mostly been looking for new herds in unfamiliar territory while between other objectives, but I've also had a long string of unsuccessful local efforts, too. Although it's still early in the cooler season, I've been watching out at my favorite winter habitat spot just in case anyone shows up early. While driving in the canyon and scanning the ridges, I spotted a single bighorn high up on the cliffs. I watched for a bit and eventually counted 7 as they drifted through shadows and crevices. The group consisted of mostly ewes but definitely included some young rams that I've not seen before. Some light sparring was taking place, and they were drifting a direction that suggested that they were either heading down to the road for salt/water, or perhaps over to the favorite winter grazing area. Surprisingly, one of the ewes that was sparring in pic 2 would later walk right up to me and sit less than ten feet away for 2 full hours! I opted to drive about a mile west to try and get into position at the higher grazing grounds. I don't like photographing down near the road, and the deep canyon shadows often make for really tough light conditions anyway. I parked the car and hiked my way back towards the area where I had last seen the group. I expected it would be a while before I saw any of them, but only a quarter mile into the hike I could see a few heads pop up over the ridge. They were indeed coming my direction, but they were split between heading towards the road and heading higher. Most of them were lower, but one in particular looked at me in the distance. I stopped and sat down the moment that I saw them, and what happened next is truly incredible. From pic 3 in this post until she sits with me, I don't move an inch. I am using a zoom lens in this sequence, so the shots range from a wider angle of 100mm to zoomed-in shots up to 420mm. The mature ewe that was looking my direction didn't join her herd in heading to the road, and instead she walked nearly a quarter-mile and sat just a few feet away from me. Perhaps eight feet directly above me was her final resting place. After about an hour, I eventually moved slightly further away so that I could get a better image of her. I was astonished. She had taken about 10 minutes initially to watch me from a few hundred yards away, and then she just decided to come directly to me in two short minutes. It was insane. She wasn't threatened, she wasn't nervous. She was deliberate and calm. Looking at me throughout her traverse as if to make sure that I could be trusted, or perhaps making sure that I was the same person that she had seen in the past. I've had a lot of close bighorn encounters, and they've played out in a wide variety of ways. Never before has an individual moved so fast to come to me and never before did they stay with me for over two hours like this. I left at noon and she didn't even stand up or flinch when I got up and left. I wonder how it would have played out if I had stayed all day. I cannot explain why she chose to do what she did. Does she remember me from the prior two winters? Did she already know exactly what rock she wanted to sit on and I just happened to get there first (and she didn't care that I was there)?? It's so puzzling, and also astonishing to me at the same time. She absolutely knew that I was there. At one point, she even laid her head down on the rock, which is one of the ultimate signs of relaxation when it comes to bighorn sheep. In those and similar images you can see that she's bleeding slightly above the right eyebrow from the sparring in picture 2. Perhaps that's why she joined me instead of her herd? The rest of the herd eventually got their fill of salt and water, and they worked their way back up the steep terrain. They noticed her on the rock above me, and also noticed me right by her. They seemed reluctant to come join her, and instead they all sat down about 150 feet away eventually. After being out there for three hours, I desperately needed a meal so I decided to part ways. None of the bighorn moved an inch... although admittedly I am VERY careful about my movements so as not to spook them. Truly an amazing encounter, even if the animal was just a simple ewe. It's a great sign for the upcoming season with the herd. With any luck, the big boys will show up soon and show me some of the same love.

Driving out of Sand Wash Basin after what I thought was my final/best encounter of the trip, I intersected one of my favorite groups. The lead mustangs in this band have featured prominently in my prior posts, and they put on a parting show true to theirs and SWB's spirit.

On several levels, this was another incredible and exciting first for me with wild horses. From the mare that brought her foal right by me, to three horses rolling in the dirt directly next to me -- it's an encounter that will always rank highly as a personal favorite. Not long ago, I had my first wild horse approach me and also roll around right next to me, and on this day three would do the same -- one was less than ten feet away. The group started roughly a quarter-mile away, and this is another "no-step" sequence where I remain in a fixed position for every image. No image has been cropped, and all are a fixed length 500mm. I love it when these situations unfold and the horses come directly to greet me. Stunningly, they decided to roll around in the dirt directly behind me. I was focused on six other horses that had just followed the first four, and I could not believe my ears when I heard the closest horse lie down and begin to roll around right next to me. It all happened rather fast, and because I was seated and didn't want to spook any horses -- it was an awkward attempt to quickly turn around to try and catch a shot that was only ~15 ft away. My big lens isn't intended for such close range, hence the inability to widen the shot or depth of field in the closest shots. Despite the limitations of the big lens, I love the frame as the mustang begins to shake off the dust while rising to his feet. Perhaps I should have kept my attention on the first four the entire time, because two others started rolling in the dirt shortly after the first. But the little foal and other horses were impossible to ignore. Such an incredible encounter. There are far too many images to post, so these 44 will have to do for the time being.

After another a quick trip around the West, I had to swing by Sand Wash Basin on the return to home base. Heavy rains had fallen when I last attempted to visit, and I narrowly escaped without getting properly stuck in the unbelievably slick/deep/thick mud. On this occasion, I was treated to a rare circumstance for me at least. The afternoon light was glorious, but not overpowering. The sky was surprisingly dark, the foreground was bright and the background was a mix of long shadows and golden-hour tones. The air was cool and calm. It felt like I was on the set of a movie in Hollywood. The only remaining ingredient was for the horses to help frame the moment. I spotted one of my favorite groups, and I knew that the light wouldn't last long -- so I hopped out and walked out into the sage for, hopefully, a better vantage point. The small band of horses was in a very mellow mood. I could see that they were drifting west, so I planted myself even further west so that I could try and photograph them with the light/background lining up for the best possible outcome. The group noticed me, but was indifferent to my distant presence. I've photo'd them many times before, and I always wonder if they're able to recognize the same people even if they only appear several times a year. I'm always watching for which horse(s) display a certain kind of inquisitive body language. Today it would be a mostly white colored horse. He's a bit of an outsider to this herd that is dominated by two protective males. The brown freckles and subtle marks on this white mustang make him easy to remember. I could see him, more than any other horse, looking my direction regularly. He would glance then graze. At first he slowly drifted my way, but soon he just decided to come right over to me. After a brief moment checking me out at close range, he drifted back towards the larger group. An instant later, the light was gone for the day. The action isn't dramatic and the scene is fairly simple, but it's hard to top such perfect conditions. This group wasn't just my first of the trip, but they'd also turn out to be the very last two days later. The same white mustang would put on a much more dramatic show in the post called "Airborne" on the 25th. Always a pleasure to be out with them.

On a recent trip out West, I couldn't resist the temptation of revisiting the trio in Nevada from the "Full throttle" encounter almost exactly one year prior. I REALLY wanted another opportunity with the short-eared owls, but I had no idea if I would find them or the wild horses again. The owls were MIA unfortunately, but the horses were exactly where I had seen them last. The images in this post are from the second day of shooting them on this trip. They are a funny little group in several ways, but I can hardly believe how consistent they are in terms of location and attitude towards me. I wonder just how many humans visit their general area, and even more than that - I wonder if these horses run up to everyone like they always run to me. I've had six out of six occasions when this group demonstrated this behavior. The morning started out at a shockingly cold 5 degrees Fahrenheit after being in the mid 70s the prior day. This made for a really challenging start.. so I opted to wait until an unusually late hour to start photographing the group. The group was over a mile away from where I had camped, and just like before, I started hiking out their direction. The thick sage and undulating terrain make it easy to remain out of sight, but as I exited the sage and into the dry lake bed, then horses again noticed me. I've resisted naming these individuals for a few reasons, but on this trip three names seemed to stick for me: Rusty, Black-mane and Indy. Rusty is the only male in the group, and I believe he may be the son of Indy who I've named for her independence. Rusty, as is probably obvious, is named for his rust-colored mane and tail. He has grown a lot in the last year and so has his confidence. On this day, he led the charge. Black-mane followed right along and Indy didn't seemed interested enough (at first) to make the short trip over to say hi. They're a tight-knit group and hardly seem to have any disagreements .. and so there's not a lot of drama for better or worse. Rusty and Black-mane trotted over from over a quarter-mile away to just a few feet from me as often happens. They always seem to be curious, but slightly skittish. They really seem to want to smell me and see me in close proximity. I'm happy to oblige and remain predictably still so that they are as comfortable as possible. It's so amusing to watch them show such intense inquisitiveness. After a solid hour or so with them, I decided to pack it up and walk back to the campsite. I could not believe it that Indy all of a sudden decided to run up to me at this point. I haven't included any of those photos, but perhaps I'll update this post another time with the second round of action that happened on my way out. The whole group again surrounded me and even got in front of me as I was trying to walk away. Their demeanor was gentle, but it was almost as if they were trying to keep me around. They watched intently as I pushed on into the thick sage. They decided to remain in the shorter grasses as I left. Like other wild horses that I've photographed on repeated encounters, I wonder if they remember me even though it's been a few months since I've seen them last? It had been a great two days with them, and even though I had planned for at least one more full day -- the extreme cold and good pictures made me change my mind and head north to Oregon in search of new opportunities. I never know if I'll return to the area or if these horses will still remain, but I hope to see them a few more times before the inevitable last time arrives.

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.