4/1/00 Nothing means SPRING in the Ozarks more than the month of APRIL, so I was delighted that it was finally there. We spent the night in a wonderful B&B in Mountain View, Arkansas. I got up very early and sped off towards the forest in search of pictures. I also needed to find a spot for Aspen to get out and run wild and free since he had been shut up in the truck all night (no pets at the B&B).

We pulled onto an old log road that I knew about that goes into part of the national forest. There was an old grown up field back in there, where Aspen could run around, and I could search for the first picture of the new month.

It was a nice sunrise, and pretty warm. Things were greening up in this part of the Ozarks a bit more than back at Cloudland. There were lots of sumac bushes just coming out around the edge of this old field, and a number of locust trees as well. The locust trees had long thorns all over them - some five and six inches long, and very deadly looking.

I found one sumac that was growing up through a branch of a locust tree, and the sumac was bursting with fresh new growth. The delicate green of that new growth contrasted very well with those sharp thorns, and I got a good picture of the pair.

That seems to be a re-occurring theme of my images this early spring - two or more contrasting things together, both in color and texture.

We hurried on to the great Blanchard Springs Caverns, where I had a reservation for a brand new type of cave trip. Way back when I worked at the cave - from 1973-1976 - we had proposed to take small groups of folks on wild cave tours. Well, they finally began this program this year. While I had been deep in the way-back parts of Blanchard dozens of times, this would be a treat for me, since I had not been down in there in a very long time.

Blanchard Cave is indeed one of the most remarkable cavern systems in this country, both the developed parts and especially the undeveloped areas. Plus, it is run by the national forest service, which is very unusual (most are run by the national park service, or are private).

I won't get into a lot of details here, but will say that it was a great cave trip, and while we only got to see a small part of the undeveloped section that is left, it was a very good "wild" cave trip and I would recommend it to anyone who likes that sort of thing. They only do it on Saturdays, by reservation only, limited to eight folks, and it costs $65 each.

Norma, Jill, Karl, and Tony take a break in the back end of Blanchard Cave

After the cave trip I wandered around the spring area below and found a couple of good scenes for pictures. I find that I am still shooting mostly macro or close-up images for the new book right now, and no "scenes." I really need for the landscape to green up some before I can shoot scenes. However, I will be venturing down into the Ouachitas later this week, and will certainly find a lot of scenes to shoot down there (it is a couple of weeks ahead of the Ozarks down there).

It was a long drive back to the Buffalo area, but much of it was through rain, which I was really glad to see. We stopped by Dean and Bonnie's spring party at the land that overlooks Boxley Valley. The crew there already had a big fire going, and had finished dinner (we didn't arrive until 9pm). They always put on a great spread at their parties, which still for the most part are outdoors, since they don't have any buildings to speak of. But they did begin work on a bunk house.

4/2/00 I don't know if it was the time change, the rain that was falling, or the fact that we had just come off of several long days, but it was TEN O'CLOCK (new time) before we got out of bed his morning. It was foggy out, and raining lightly.

After a leisurely brunch we loaded up and drove on over and hiked down into Broadwater Hollow. This is a neat little area that runs into Cecil Creek and then into the Buffalo River near Erbie. There is a series of nice waterfalls there, although they weren't going as much as usual for this time of the year. It is still quite obvious that we still need a great deal of water to get everything back to normal.

But there were lots of wildflowers out, and lush green vegetation, so I kept my camera busy. I found this one group of something or other that looked very interesting because their young stems were quite hairy. It took me about twenty minutes to get the shot set up just right. Right when I was ready to shoot the picture, the wind began to blow. I had to stand there and wait next to the camera for nearly thirty minutes before the wind died down and I could take my pictures. That's OK - my waiting room is pretty nice.

We found the big sink hole beside the creek there - you could hear water running down in the bottom. It's local name is "Devil's Den."

The sink hole opening in Broadwater Hollow

We got a bit more rain on the way back to the cabin (got to see a good herd of elk along the way). Most of the recent rains have been very light, soaking rains, which are great. They are the kind where you can wander around in them without really getting too wet.

A herd of elk in Boxley Valley along the Buffalo River

A few more trees have begun to pop out green around here, but the overall scene is still basically brown and grey from winter. I am surprised to see that there are still a number of service berry trees in bloom, as well as wild plum, and of course, TONS of redbuds! No dogwoods yet up here, although I have seen a lot of them elsewhere, and I suspect that as soon at the sun comes out, they will begin to pop out like crazy, later this week perhaps.

Most of the wildflowers in bloom are white, with bunches of blue phlox all around. The little wild iris are coming up, but no blooms yet. The forest here seems to be on hold, waiting for sunshine. The best thing to happen would be for it to rain more, then have a couple days of sunshine, then more rain, and so on for the rest of the month.

4/4/00 It was quite early when we got up and sped away from the cabin. Five hours later, we arrived at Cossatot River State Park Natural Area down in the southern Ouachitas.

It was a tough drive, not only because of the winding roads, but because SPRING was popping out all around. Lots of dogwoods out in full bloom, and most of the trees were beginning to leaf out. Many colors of wildflowers dotted the hillsides. While I came to a screeching halt many times and jumped out with camera in hand ready to make the perfect picture, the wind was blowing very hard, and I was unable to shoot anything. Eventually I was reduced to having to enjoy the view and continue on my way. Several times I came close to running over the edge because my head was turned the opposite direction looking at a wonderful scene.

From Russellville down through Hot Springs the spring green was well advanced, but as I drove south of Hot Springs it seemed that spring was retreating. By the time I arrived at the river area, there was hardly any budding trees at all. Lots of great wildflowers though, but the wind had picked up even more and was thrashing everything around.

My goal for the day was shooting a scene of the Cossatot Falls area. This is one of the most unique water and rock areas in the South. While it is a spectacular kayaking area when the water is high, it still is pretty amazing when the water levels are more civil, like they were today. The river cuts through a series of rock formations, creating various patterns of whitewater.

I wanted to capture the feel of the entire place. Normally I would not consider taking pictures under clear blue skies, but this is one scene that lends itself well for this.

Aspen learned quickly that when in a state park, he would have to be leashed, which was very tough for him, especially considering all of the available swimming holes! Since there was no one around, I did give him his freedom once we got downstream and out of sight of the main recreation area.

I climbed out onto a rock island in the middle of all the foam and set up my camera gear. The rocks in this spot are very smooth and rather slick when wet. It didn't take long for Aspen to find that out - he feel into the swirling waters within a few seconds. At one point, he was swimming upstream as fast and hard as he could, but he was not moving an inch against the current. Just when it looked like he was about to get swept away and into a serious set of rapids, I convinced him to swim off to the side, where he was pulled to safety.

There was a stick in the way of the main picture that I had wanted to shoot, and it was in a dangerous spot in the river, so I was unable to get to it and pull it out of the way (it was a walking stick that someone had thrown into the river, or got swept out of an overturned canoe). Since I don't manipulate any of my images digitally, I didn't bother to shoot the picture - I would have to return later, after the stick had been washed away.

But I did find an even better looking scene that the one I had come after. At one point in the watercourse, the whitewater enters a shoot from the left, turns sharply towards the viewer, then sweeps 180 degrees away, and finally exits the scene to the right, all the while wrapping around smooth boulders. It was an amazing scene, and I just barely had a lens wide enough to cover it all (it would take a 20mm lens to get it all in).

My tripod was positioned on the back edge of this one smooth rock, and me clinging to the edges, ready to slide into the thrashing water at any time. And one time I did slip a little, and just as I saved myself, I was horrified when I looked up and saw my tripod and new camera sliding off of the rock and into the water on the other side. I made a desperate grab and was able to catch a leg of the tripod and pull my gear to safety just in time. Deep breath. My insurance man does not like for me to call him, especially when he knows I am out working on a major book project.

The spot where I was set up taking this picture was at a very dangerous spot in the middle of the river. Fearing that Aspen would try to follow me and fall into the "washing machine" as kayakers call it, I tied him up along the bank. He was actually very good about all of it, and sat there in the shade watching my every move without protesting too much. I think his earlier scare had stuck with him.

OK, so I had a great scene, although as luck would have it, this particular scene would be better under overcast skies, so I shot a couple of rolls just in case, then packed up and headed out. The wind continued to blow hard.

We drove on over to Shady Lake and then down several forest roads looking for wildflowers, dogwoods and any nice scene. And there were many of them, especially wildflowers - tons of groups of them. But the wind continued non-stop, and while I pulled over and hiked around with camera gear at the ready, I never got to take a single picture. This is one of the more frustrating parts of my job - having one wonderful scene after another right there in front of me and not able to photograph.

Before long we came to the Little Missouri River, a long time favorite area of mine. I spent two summers building hiking trail along it, and have returned here many times for pictures. It did not disappoint me today, and I found a couple of great scenes to shoot.

The water in the Little Missouri is cold enough to support trout, and the Game and Fish Commission regularly stocks it with trout during the winter and spring months. That is great if you are a fish, or a fisherman. Not so great if you need to stand out in the middle of the frigid waters and take a picture.

I was standing in water about knee deep with my tripod all set up, waiting for a lull in the wind. After about twenty minutes my feet were numb, but the wind finally did die down a bit and I was able to shoot a few pictures. The scene upstream was one of colorful water and backlit brilliant fresh green buds on the trees. It was worth having my feet freeze off.

One thing that I had not planned for was the fact that this new camera system of mine eats batteries like crazy. In fact, I have to put in a new lithium battery every 7-10 rolls. I had a case of these special batteries in the frige back at the cabin, but only two spares with me. The battery in my camera went dead as soon as I started shooting back at the Cossatot. The first replacement battery was dead on arrival. That left me with only one battery. I was hoping that I could find the same type of battery at Wal Mart in Hot Springs, so as soon as I could feel my feet again, I packed up and sped off.

Another reason that I wanted to make a run up to Hot Springs is that I had noted a potential sunset spot along the shores of Lake Ouachita when I was there last month. It was getting late when I left the river, but I pushed on hoping to arrive at my spot before the sun set.

I arrived in plenty of time, then frantically ran back and fourth looking for just the right picture. I never found one. I mean the scene was quite spectacular, but there was no way to do it justice on film. So once again I became a simple tourist enjoying the view instead of creating a photograph of it. Oh well, the trip was not wasted - Wal Mart came through and I found my $11 battery.

4/5/00 I had camped at one of the trailheads for the Athens-Big Fork hiking trail. There was a sunrise scene nearby that I intended to shoot. This was one of the main reasons why I had made this trek down into the Ouachitas. But I had to get up and get to the spot before the sun arrived. Only problem was that this spot was at the top of Brushheap Mountain, and the trail up to it is the steepest and one of the most difficult trails in Arkansas. No problem, I was a tough old grizzled hiker and would have no problem. Yea, right.

I had made this trip up before sunrise several times in the past, so I knew what I was in for. The trail quickly turned into the hillside and took off. The path is actually an old mail carrier route that was established back in the 1800's when they used mules to carry the mail. They were more concerned with time rather than with ease of travel.

I had plenty of chances to get close up views of all the wildflowers along the way because I was bent over double about every five minutes, gasping for breath. My 40+ pounds of camera gear felt more like 80. But I must say it was a wonderful hike up. The forest floor was alive with color, and that color seemed to deepen as I got higher up on the hillside.

When I finally hit the top of the saddle where the trail leveled off, I was hit with a blast of wind that nearly knocked me over. I was also hit with sunshine. Oops. I was supposed to be up on TOP with my camera gear all set up at sunrise. I was on top of the saddle (a low point between two high points), but no where near the actual summit where I needed to be. In fact, the trail from this point on was really STEEP!

The next stretch of trail was very tough not only because of the steepness, but also because I knew I was late for my shot, and so I pushed on as hard as I could, which is tough to do when you are going nearly straight up the hillside.

With each step that I took it seemed like more flowers grew. Before long the ground was completely covered with wildflowers. And they were this rich color of blue and purple. I think that the flowers were aware of their place in life. The ones down on the lower slopes were pale, and as they got higher up on the mountain - and had better views - their colors got richer. And these up on the top slope were the most colorful of all, celebrating the glory of the incredible scene that lay before them.

Finally I made it to the top and found my favorite spot part way down the other side. I got everything all set up, but I was too late. The scene was as spectacular as I had ever seen it, but the sun was just too high, and that first light glow of wonderful color was gone. I would have to return again. Oh darn. The climb up would be tough for sure, but I would have another chance to experience all of the wildflowers again. And maybe then the wind would not be blowing at 50 miles an hour.

Sunrise from Brushheap Mountain

The trip back down went a lot faster. I did set up one shot of some yellow wildflowers that covered the forest floor and stretched out as far as you could see, but the light was not exactly perfect, and I had to wait for nearly a half hour for a brief break in the wind. Do you get the impression that much of my job is waiting for the wind to stop? You would be correct. It is VERY frustrating at time, but part of it all, so I take it in stride.

The sun was bright and the wind was hard, so I didn't stop for pictures much on my way back. Although I did find one more terrific scene along the Little Missouri River that I stopped and photographed for an hour. My toes did not return to normal after standing in that cold water for two hours.

I did see a GIANT bobcat. He was not in any hurry, and I got to watch him for several minutes. Also spotted a grey fox crossing the road. This dude was in a hurry, and was little more than a flash.

The wind was howling when I returned to Cloudland. In fact, it must have been a very dry wind because it had dried up all of the mud holes in the road. That was a bit odd. Most of the furniture at the cabin had been blown over, and some of it blown completely off of the deck. While I was standing there holding on I realized that the wind was blowing very hard. I went inside and checked the weather station - it had been blowing at a steady clip of 40-50 mph! And topped out at 52mph, which is the third highest recorded speed here at Cloudland.

My attention turned to the tipis - they should be able to stand up to this kind of gale force wind, but I wasn't really sure, so I hustled up to Aspen's meadow to check on them. The sky was so blue it was nearly black, and both tipis were standing tall and unaffected by the wind. Whew, that was a relief.

There was no moon, but the sky was coal black and filled with a million stars when I slipped into the hot tub near midnight. This is one of two times during the day when I can really sit back and relax and just do nothing for a few minutes. Well, actually I guess I can and do do that a lot out here, but for the record we will say there are only two times (morning and night in the hot tub).

When the sky is crystal clear like it was tonight, the stars seem to twinkle a lot more. And you can see many more shooting stars. The sky is in 3-D, and it really jumps out at you. I enjoyed the quick trip down south, and would return again in a few days and spend lots of time down there this month, but it sure did feel great to get back to Cloudland!

4/6/00 Aspen woke me early, and we were out there in the tub well before sunrise. And we were not alone. The trees were filled with birds, little birds, hopping about and making all kinds of noise. Oops, I mean singing lovely tunes. Aspen seems to be maturing a bit - he spent most of his time just sitting there at the edge of the deck, watching the birds and trying to learn what they were all about, instead of chasing them from tree to tree.

Early morning from the back deck, looking up Whitaker Creek

The sun rose on a land still in early spring mode, with not too many trees budding out yet. But early morning light is always wonderful. The service berry trees and wild plum are about gone now, and the dogwoods have not quite begun yet. Still plenty to look forward to!

As I was leaving for town today I discovered that I had a visitor during the night. The IQ, sperm count, number of known parents of, and number of bullet holes that he put into my mailbox were all the same - one. That's right, some childish coward walked up to my new mailbox and fired a large caliber pistol bullet right smack into the door. I must say that the power of the bullet was similar to the pecker of this jerk because the bullet didn't even go all the way through the door - it simply bounced off and fell harmless on the ground. I suspect this guy's wife, girlfriend or goat has had this happen to her many times...

4/7/00 No sunrise this morning - just grey clouds and lots of wind. It didn't really feel like rain though, and in fact it never rained all morning. During my morning hike I noticed a number of new wildflowers coming up - some I knew, and others that I did not. Including three different species that are coming up and blooming in Aspen's meadow. It was GREAT to find these little guys in the new meadow!

One wildflower that I continue to see is the spring beauty. These are some of the very first flowers that come up in late February and early March. Yet they are still blooming, and in great numbers. It seems that some of these later ones have really vibrant colors.

Something else that I found was an arrowhead, once again a broken one, but this time it was the back end, complete with the two ears that are used to fasten the arrowhead to the shaft. It was really exciting to find this point. The collection of Native American artifacts found in the meadow is growing. Gosh, if you sit down and look at these items and then gaze out into the wilderness, with the sunshine and the breeze and the blue sky, you can almost see tipis right in front of you...

Speaking of Aspen, he got his first taste of a lizard toady (actually blue-tailed skinks). Well, not exactly a real taste. But he did spot a couple of them and got to chase them around. I think it was as much fun for the lizards as it was for Aspen. They knew he would never catch them - all they had to do was scamper up a tree. Aspen never could figure out where they went, and would go round and round the base of the tree looking for them, all the while they were right above, looking down with these grins.

I spent most of the morning making a couple of new log lamps for the downstairs guest room. I started with a log coat rack that I ordered from the Amish, then modified it, cut down, added a table in the middle, and then installed all of the hardware. Presto, a combination lamp and bedside table just like the big floor lamps in the living room, only guest room size. And to each I added the same simple shade that will act as a guest register. The main lamp shades are really beginning to fill up with names, so these two new lamps, along with two more that I will put together later will give us more room for names.

Long about noon I saddled up and pointed my bike towards the mail box to take out the day's mail. It was warm and the breeze felt great. What was really nice though were all the fragrenaes of the blooming trees along the way. I guess there were still a few wild plums out because the smells were terrific. And the best part was that I got to pass through the fragrance of each twice - one going, and once on the way back.

While taking a break on the back deck in one of the new deck chairs that I had brought out from town last night and put together this morning (boy, that was a long sentence!), I got to studying the trees across the way. More and more of them are popping out all the time - seems like sometimes even right before you eyes. I partitioned off a section of hillside and started to count, and decided that at 1pm today about 25% of the trees had begun to green up. I suspect that it will be 35% by dark today. Maybe half open by the end of tomorrow. And perhaps most of them out by early or mid next week. Of course, that all depends on the weather. If it remains warm with some sunshine, the popping will continue at a steady pace. If it rains and/or turns cooler, then it will all slow down, and may even stop. No matter, I suspect the overall scene will be green by the end of next week. Spring marches on!

4/8/00 It was the wee hours of the morning when I pulled into the trailhead. The drive down into the Ouachita Mountains was a very strange one indeed - the wind was blowing quite hard and the air was filled with stuff from the budding trees - it was like going through a driving rainstorm for two hundred miles.

While I struggled with sleep in the back of my cramped truck, the temp outside dropped 30 degrees. It was a short night, and the alarm went off at 5:30. No mocha. No hot tub this morning. Just a biting wind and temps in the 30's to greet me. And a pop tart.

Sometimes I get obsessed with getting a photograph - like I did with the service berry tree. Quite often this madness pays off and I get a terrific image on film. Right now I had to get that sunrise picture from the top of Brushheap Mountain that I had missed a few days ago. So here I was again, getting an earlier start this time.

It was still dark when I stepped out and began my hike. After a few minutes I was able to see enough in the starlight to negotiate the trail. This is a well built and maintained hiking trail, so I really didn't have too many problems. I never thought of using a flashlight. Besides, I had Aspen's white butt to follow - he is very good at running out in front to show the way.

Even though I was trudging up the steepest hiking trail in Arkansas - expending a great deal of energy and heat - I was about to freeze to death. The wind was really howling - probably something like 40mph - and it cut right through me. I was bound and determined to make it to my spot well before the sun popped up, so my strides were long and fast.

Unfortunately, I was not really in good enough shape to be hiking so fast with the large load on my back. That, and fighting the constant gale, drained most of my energy, and before long I was walking on wobbly legs.

As I got near the top of the hill, I veered off of the trail to take a "short cut" to my picture spot. A short cut is sometimes defined as the longest route between two points. I took this route because it would save me from having to climb all the way to the top of the hill and then part way down the other side where my sunrise view was.

Taking the short cut was not really a problem - although the footing was difficult because there was no trail tread at all, and the steep hillside was covered with rocks. But the additional energy required to make it through this bushwhack did take its toll. Within minutes I became disoriented - I could not take more than three steps without having to stop and catch my breath - and I kept stumbling on the loose rocks. I got dizzy, and wound up falling face first over a log.

Actually that log was the perfect resting spot, and allowed me a place to discard that pop tart without getting it on my shoes.

I was a mess, and had no choice but to fall back against a rock and try to regroup. I landed in a little spot that was sheltered from the wind between two squared-off boulders. I was exhausted, aching, freezing, dizzy, and frustrated at not being able to simply bound on up the hill to my spot. I reached into my camera bag and found a water bottle, then drained it in a few seconds.

As I lay there on the ground in the dim twilight I heard voices. I looked around and saw a thousand tiny wildflowers quivering in the wind. They were speaking to me, telling me that I was alright, that I was almost there, and that I should get up off of my fanny and get MOVING! I had never seen so many wildflowers all crammed together before in Arkansas. Nor had I ever heard such a clear message in my head.

Just then a feeling of great exhilaration came over me, and I did jump up, duck my head into the wind, and happily strode on up the remainder of the hillside. I'm not sure if it was the lecture from the wildflowers or the fact that the water was CLOUDLAND water that perked me up (or the fact that if I stayed there on the ground much longer I would freeze to death!). But I finished my climb, and then carefully picked my way on down to my special viewpoint (although my legs were still wobbly and my head was pounding).

OK, I had made it, and the sun was no where in sight. I could relax and take my time setting everything up. Or so I thought. No sooner had I plopped down at the edge of a bluff and laid back against a rock, I saw a bright spot on the horizon. Holy dawn, the sun was just seconds away from showing itself!

I quickly scrambled to get the tripod and camera gear all set up and a scene composed. And I just barely did make it as the golden ball began to rise in the distance. Now if I was not a photographer, this would have been one of those magnificent grand scenes of nature where you could sit back and galk and ohhh and ahhhh over. But I had a job to do, and there was no time for sightseeing.

Click, whirr. Click, whirr. Click, whirr. Within three minutes of when I landed at my spot, the sun had risen and I had taken sixty pictures. It all happened that fast. There was no time to recover from my exhausting climb. And then it was over.

Then I made the mistake of looking around my lofty perch to see what else I could find. Within a few feet I discovered another viewpoint with a much more dramatic scene. So I rushed around and moved all of my gear and shot another 60 images. This scene had the sun beaming out from behind a tall bluff on the left side of the image, with two cone-shaped mountain peaks in the distance. It was a remarkable scene, although tough to photograph because the camera location was right in front of a tree, so I had a tough time getting behind the camera to compose and focus. I'll have to wait until the film is processed to see if I got it right.

Finally, I got to sit down and take a break. Not so fast. As I sat down on the rock rubble, I realized that there might be an even better scene from the bench down below. So I got up and scrambled down the cliff to this other spot. Sure enough, it was really spectacular, and included a backlit hickory tree, with its brilliant new growth to balance the rising sun. So I climbed back up and gathered up my camera gear and returned to this spot and shot another 60 pictures (that's about two rolls - I always try to shoot a scene on at least two different rolls of film in case one of the rolls gets damaged somehow).

At last, I had the great picture that I was after. Well, actually 180 of them. Its kind of funny. But the picture that I already had of this sunrise scene that I made twelve years ago is one of my most successful images of all time. The state of Arkansas used it as their national ad campaign a couple of years ago, so it was published in nearly every national magazine there is. And it has sold dozens of times to other publications. I don't know, but I just thought that I could do even better somehow, which is why I was sitting there on the side of the mountain once again. And I was glad to have done it. Not so much for the great image that I hope I got, but because of the experience of it all, and the feeling of accomplishment. Believe it or not, I love fighting the elements, freezing half to death, being bent over a log from exhaustion, and listening to wildflowers. Of course, if someone writes me a big check for the picture, I enjoy that too.

The climb up was a tough one on this old and decrepid body, yet I got to witness and photograph a stunning scene of nature's beauty. There is a lesson in there somewhere, and I think it is that you should always listen when flowers speak to you, and be sure to carry a bottle of Cloudland water!

After my photo blitz, I took the primitive trail back, up and over the very tip top of the mountain. The wind continued to rage, and whip around vegetation, which included more wildflowers that I had ever seen on a mountaintop before. I mean it seemed like every square inch of this place was covered with wildflowers. Most of them were still wrapped up tight, but they added a bit of swirling color just the same. My kingdom for still air and enough time for the flowers to all open up and greet the day - then an hour of overcast so that I could photograph them all! I don't ask for much.

On the way down I passed through forests of mayapples in bloom, ferns by the score, and umbrella magnolia trees that had started to bloom. This mountain was as lush as any tropical island.

So I had climbed the mountain in the dark, been thrown around by the wind, bruised by sharp rocks and boulders, and my skin scratched and torn by brambles and brush, but I was still basically alright. Just as I got off of the trail and headed across the road to the parking lot, I stepped wrong, twisted my ankle, and plummeted head first into the gravel. It wasn't graceful. It was painful.

Normally when this happens to me I get up and continue to walk and before long all the pain is worked out. But I was at the car this time, and while I did spend some time down at a nearby creek shooting pictures, I didn't get to work out whatever it is that causes the pain, so my ankle was sore, swollen, and hurt all day.

With the wind picking up strength now, and the harsh light of bright sunshine setting in, I was unable to photograph anything and left the area and headed north. I could have easily shot a thousand pictures of all the wildflowers and other terrific spring beauty around, but the sun and the wind would not allow it.

My destination was another spot that I needed to get a great photo of. And I had been looking for just the right viewpoint for many years. It was one of my favorite mountains in the entire world - Forked Mountain at the edge of the Flatside Wilderness Area. The Ouachita Trail runs through this area, which is what brought me to the mountain for the first time way back in the 1970's. The trail itself does not go to or even near to the mountain, but it does have some terrific views of the mountain along its route.

But the picture that I was hunting for would have to be much closer than the view from the Ouachita Trail. So I drove on over to near the base of the mountain itself (the back side of the mountain is outside the wilderness, and located on paper company land). I drove up to the wilderness boundary and set off hiking to find the perfect viewpoint. I needed blue skies for this shot, and the wind could not budge this mighty rock outcrop, so it was no bother to me.

Forked Mountain is an amazing place. It towers above the surrounding wilderness with a great presence. It reminds me of a peak in the Rocky Mountains - it has a giant boulder field beneath one flank that is a magical place to scramble around in. And there are actually two peaks (hence the name) - one a little taller than the other.

Much of the Ouachita Mountains are covered with pine, but there are also lots of hardwoods mixed in there as well, and I have always like the "salt and pepper" look of the contrast between the dark green of the pines and the new bright green of spring leaves.

After an hour of searching, I came upon the perfect spot. The view had the mountain framed with two majestic pines, and the angle was just right so that the twin peaks were visible, and the new spring growth on the mountainside was backlit by the afternoon sun.

Forked Mountain, Flatside Wilderness Area

I hiked back to the car and returned with my camera gear. I didn't realize until after I got back to the viewpoint that I had forgotten the tripod - the climb up to my spot seemed a little too easy! No matter, it was an incredible spring afternoon, and for once the light was going to stick around for several hours, so I really was in no hurry.

An hour later I was back again and happily shooting away. It was a wonderful scene, but I got to thinking about what it might look like at sunset. I vowed to return later in the afternoon and see for sure - don't want to miss an opportunity for a great picture!

So I had some time to kill, and I decided to hike on up to the top of Forked Mountain and see if I could find anything to shoot up there.

This climb is a tough one, and not for the faint of heart, but not so tough that it takes an expert to do it. Aspen beat me to the top, as he usually does. One thing that I noticed right away was that the wind was NOT blowing up on top! First time all day. And it was especially odd since the wind almost always blows at the top of peaks like this one.

I looked around a bit and found this wonderful twisted pine tree growing part way down the vertical rock face. It would be a tough spot to get to for a picture, but I wanted to try and see what I could find.

This part of the mountain was a very dangerous place to be. But that was where the picture was, so I had to go there. With his daring attitude, I was a bit concerned with Aspen - one slip over the edge and he would be gone. I don't know if he is maturing, or if he was just scared to death, but after looking around for a few minutes, he simply wandered on over to the shade of a nearby bush and laid down. "You take the picture dad, and I will just lay here and watch."

I found a good spot and set up my gear, tying a rope around the tripod and myself. The light was not exactly right though, and I was not sure when it might be. I shot a couple of rolls of film anyway - just in case it would be the only time that I would hang there on the side of the cliff with a camera and tripod.

Right in the middle of my shoot I heard a voice. No, it wasn't a wildflower this time. It was a human voice, coming from above. "Mr. Ernst I presume." What? I turned around and spotted a guy high above me. I asked him how the heck he knew it was me. "Anyone clinging to the side of a mountain like that with a camera and that HAT would have to be Tim Ernst." I was flattered, I think. He said that he did not want to disturb me, but only needed to ask a question. And it has got to be the strangest question that I have ever had out in the wilderness: "How do I get down?"

I wanted to say that the quickest way was to jump, but since I was an easy target, held off on the dry humor.

Later I returned to my viewpoint and waited around for the sun to do its thing. Unlike the rise this morning, it seemed to take forever for it to move into position. I was forced to lay down and soak up a bit of sunshine.

4/9/00 Back at Cloudland today. The eastern horizon began to glow about 5:45, and a bright yellow ball appeared an hour or so later. As I slipped my aching and ripped body into the hot tub, I noticed that there was not a wisp of wind to be found. I should have been perched on the side of a mountain somewhere taking pictures, but I had lots of paper and other work to do, so I settled for enjoying the spectacular light show, and the hot bubbles.

I spent the next couple of hours working at the computer in the cabin. Aspen was not amused, and checked in with me every ten minutes to find out when we were going hiking. I have created a monster.

I am about to give in to him now, and will go out and see how spring is advancing here at Cloudland.

4/11/00 Whip-poor-whill. WHIP-poor-will. WHIP-POOR-WILL! This is the sound that I heard all night long. Someone was out there to welcome the terrific RAIN shower that arrived during the night. What a delight it was to hear raindrops on the roof.

The rain continued as daylight creeped in. Not much daylight though - a heavy fog engulfed the cabin. Before I slipped into the hot tub, I stood out in the middle of the deck and let the cool drops drench my shivering skin. Let me rephrase that - I ran and JUMPED into the hot water after standing in the rain!

The fog lifted somewhat, and the show began. Down below there were dozens of "mist stacks" that leaped up from the river towards the grey sky. Several of them would meet and mingle half way up, swirl around a bit in the wind, then go their separate ways.  Cloud dancing I guess. Everyone was so happy for the rain, especially one nature photographer who desperately needs some waterfalls to take pictures of for his new book. This one rain won't produce a whole lot of waterfalls, but it will help to saturate the ground so that future rains will create good waterfalls. I hope. At the very least I will have some cloudy weather that I need for many images.

This morning I am working in the office getting some paperwork done, then will head out to another part of the state seeking scenic views. One of the problems that I am having shooting for this current book project is that there is so much terrific scenery right around me here that I seldom want to go elsewhere to shoot. However we do have great stuff elsewhere in the state too, and it is my job to chase it down. A future book project will be entitled "My Own Backyard," so I will get the chance to stay at home and work that year. Oh darn.

Speaking of future book projects, I laid out a five-year plan in my head while hiking the other day. This year the picture book will be ARKANSAS SPRING. Next year the book will be ARKANSAS AUTUMN. Then a book on ARKANSAS SEASONS. I will shoot the same scenes in different seasons for this one, plus include many images that shout out a particular time of the year. Then the BACKYARD book. I plan to draw a circle around Cloudland - something like a mile wide circle - and spend a year photographing and writing about adventures within that mile. And the final book will be a collection of my favorite, most popular, and most successful images of all time - thirty years worth of wilderness photography in Arkansas. I will be about to turn 50 then, perhaps a good time to retire.

Speaking of great images, I must tell you about the Ansel Adams exhibit that is now showing at the University of Arkansas. There are twenty images of his, and while they are displayed in the worst possible spot in the world, this exhibit contains some of Ansel's best work. If you are in the Fayetteville area anytime between now and the end of May and are interested in great art or outdoor photography, you must go see this exhibit. It is free, and is located in the Fine Arts Building on the UA campus. Don't look for it in any gallery - it is hung along one of the halls, facing a bank of open windows (I can't believe the University did this). The pictures are difficult to see with all of the glare, but worth a visit just the same. Ansel Adams is without a doubt the greatest wilderness photographer that ever lived. These prints are small (11/14 - 16/20 range), but all printed by the master himself in 1979.

As I was writing the above info, I realized that it was quiet outside - the rain had quit. It was time for me to get moving! I threw everything in the car and raced off to one of my favorite spots in the world - the Richland Creek Wilderness Area. While they were calling for rain all day, not another drop fell. But it was cloudy, somewhat misty, and very little wind. These are the absolute BEST conditions for wilderness photography - I could use a month of them this spring.

There is no official trail into this wilderness, but there are at least three different "routes" that have developed over the years. I headed out on one of them. The ground and air were saturated, which brought out the rich colors of the landscape. All along the trail were wildflowers, mayapples, ferns, and about a million other green plants - it was a very lush place indeed. Most of the wildflowers had been beat down a bit by the rain, so I was unable to photograph any of them.

Sometimes I go into a place like this when the conditions are ideal it is a bit like an orgy, and I don't know quite what to shoot first. I could probably have stopped at any point and found some wonderful images. But Richland is a very powerful place, and I knew that all I had to do was to keep going for a few minutes and something really terrific would jump out at me.

And sure enough it did. Within a mile of the car I spotted an incredible dogwood tree in full bloom right down next to the river. I had to take off my boots and wade across to get over to it, and found that unlike the frigid trout waters of the Little Missouri River of last week, this water was OK, almost warm. I light mist began to fall, which brought out more rich colors.

I set up and spent the next three hours shooting in this one little spot, roll after roll, scene after scene. It was an orgy indeed, with many lovers and screams of delight. I also spent a great deal of time waiting for the slight breezes to stop entirely. That took a lot of mental energy, and was a strain on my eyes. You see when you are trying for absolute stillness, you have to focus sharply and stare at a dogwood leaf or flower. This takes great concentration. Sometimes your mind will play tricks on you, and you can't really tell if that flower is being moved by the wind or is just swaying inside your head.

There was much more water in the river than I had anticipated, although the side creeks were mostly dry. We had received about an inch of rain, which is a pretty good amount. But most of it was sucked up by the parched soil. Richland Creek was running clean and pretty though.

After using up most of my film at this one spot - and I had even thrown in extra film - I moved on deeper into the wilderness. There seemed to be a terrific scene every few feet, either along the raging river, or in the forest. I stopped and set up and shot about a dozen more times as I made my way up the primitive trail, being careful to leave some film for my ultimate goal - Twin Falls.

This waterfall is one of the most spectacular in all of Arkansas. I have photographed it many times in the past twenty years. But I really didn't expect it to be running very well today, since the side creeks were mostly dry, and it is located where two side creeks come together.

But as I made my way up the side valley towards the falls, I could HEAR thunder, and knew I was in for a terrific site. And sure enough, both falls were running at full tilt. It was a marvelous scene.

Most people simply stand in front of the falls and shoot away. I have never liked that perspective, and have spent most of my film shooting from either side. Today was no different. The scene from straight on was marvelous, but I wanted something different. And I only had two rolls of film to get it with.

So I carefully composed an image from one side, shot a roll of film there, then climbed up and around and got another scene from the other side and from up above the falls. I only shot a half roll there, saving a few shots just in case I ran across the scene of the century on my way back to the car.

Once I finished up my shooting at Twin Falls I realized that I was one tired puppy. In my rush to get into the woods I forgot to bring any lunch, and only had one small water bottle with me. Carrying my 40 pounds of camera gear into the wilderness and working with it all day is an exhausting exercise, and it was taking its toll on me. And I gulped down my last swallow of water. I used to drink out of all the streams in the Ozarks without worry of disease of chemicals, but don't do that much these days. Since I had a lot of pictures yet to take this spring, I opted to stay thirsty rather than risk drinking the water and getting something that would put me out of commission for a while during prime shooting season.

There was one more location that I had wanted to go see - Richland Falls - which is a hundred foot wide waterfall that spans the entire river. It is further upstream from where the Twin Falls creek runs into the main river. Before I reached this destination, I found one more great scene that I felt compelled to photograph. I discovered that while I did not bring any food rations with me, I did throw in an emergency roll of film, just in case. Hey, I can go without food, but not without film!

While I was setting up this shot, disaster struck. I don't know if it was just because I had grown weak during the day without food or water, because I was in a hurry and got careless, or simply because it was my time. But something went wrong, I slipped on a wet rock, which sent me tumbling over the edge of the small bluff that I had set my tripod and camera up on.

I fell maybe ten feet, landing on the rocks below. My natural tendency when falling is to reach out with my left arm to try to break the fall. Of course, when you do that, your arm is usually what breaks first. I landed on it pretty hard, and took quite a blow. In fact, the fall plum knocked the breath out of me. If you have never had this happen to you, I will tell you that you think you are going to die!

As I lay there gasping for breath and trying to figure out if I was hurt bad or not, a sight of terror shot through me. I realized that my camera and tripod had just made the same fall, and that the loud crack that I heard was not my head after all, but my camera. It was lying next to me on the rocks, split wide open.

Within a few minutes I had composed myself, and while I was shaking badly and my arm was throbbing, I determined that there were no broken bones, only a broken camera. It was less than month old. I frantically tried to revive it, and actually did get it to work for a moment, but I was unable to get the picture that I had stopped to photograph. All I could do was pack up the pieced and hike out.

Just as I turned to begin my hike, I realized that it was getting a little darker. Hum, I guess I had been in there for much longer than I thought. I had hiked out of this wilderness in the dark before, so no problem there, but today I was beaten down, bruised up, and had a heavy load. It would not be an easy hike out.

And to top it off, I made a stupid mistake of deciding not to cross the river and take the easy trail out. Instead I remained on the same side of the river that I was on, which meant that I would have to bushwhack across some difficult terrain. No real problem there - I still had strength in my legs, but my mind was beginning to slide somewhat. I guess it was being dehydrated and exhausted, but I could feel a bit of goofiness setting in (sorry, but I don't know of any other word for it).

I still had enough wits about me to stick fairly close to the river, knowing that if I really got into trouble, all I had to do was drop down and cross the river, where I would find the trail on the other side. But I simply don't like to take my boots off and wade river these days. Never have. The only real problem was that it took me a lot longer to hike out the way that I was going, and I really didn't have much time before it got pitch dark.

But I managed OK, and while it did get dark on me, I was able to find my way without too much trouble. And there was a good primitive trail much of the way toward the end where I really needed it. One problem that kept complicating things was the fact that I still wanted to stop and take pictures - lots of terrific scenes on the way back too!

I knew that I would be alright when I hiked across this large flat area next to the creek. It was filled with spiderwort wildflowers. I had seen them on the way in, and while they had some of the richest purple color I had ever seen before, the heavy rain had beaten them up some. But tonight, in the darkness, with everything around me being a sea of dark green, these brilliant royal jewels shown through the darkness, and gave me the mental strength to go on.

Something else that helped me finished the hike was knowing that I had a stash of FRESH squeezed orange juice and a soft pretzel waiting for me at the truck. Needless to say they disappeared in a flash. Speaking of the pretzel, I must tell you about this great little find that I made. They are Act II "Big Softy" pretzels. They come packaged one in a bag. You are supposed to spray PAM or something on them, toast in a toaster, then sprinkle on this special salt that comes in the bag. They are fine that way, but I use them out in the woods, eating right out of the bag. Makes a tasty bread treat that simply will not smash in your pack.

It had been one terrific day in the wilderness - the light was perfect, as was the water, dogwoods and redbuds at their peak, and wildflowers and lush undergrowth everywhere - one of the finest days that I had ever experienced. Richland Creek Wilderness is one of the true highlights of Arkansas, indeed of this part of the country, and I always come away from there with fond memories and great pictures. And once in a while, pieces of cameras.

It was 10pm when I got back to the cabin. I didn't have the strength to eat anything, so I just slipped into the hot water and let the bubbles work out some of the soreness in my bones. Way up high, beaming down through what was left of the cloudy skies, the moon shone down on my little world.

4/12/00 The first order of business was to access the damage to my camera. Well, actually that was the second order - the first was to return to the hot tub, which I did just as the sun broke through the clouds to the east. It was cold this morning - 40 degrees.

The camera was dead, that was for sure. And I had to ship it off to New Jersey to get it fixed. I don't have a backup, so I am more or less grounded for a few days. Luckily, Contax Cameras has a special pro services division, of which I am a member. I quickly made arrangements with them to ship me a loaner camera overnight while they are fixing mine. But at best I will still be out of a camera for several days, perhaps even until Monday. That is not good, because it is overcast again today, and there are pictures to be taken. At least the wind is blowing, so I don't feel quite as bad. And if things are just too incredible, I can use my old camera system, which was just perfect up until a month ago when I decided to get a new system.

I spent nearly the entire day in the office bent over the light table editing the thousands of images that I have shot so far this spring. With this new camera format, the processed transparencies come back from the lab in a long roll, unmounted. I have to select the ones that I want, cut them by hand, put them each in a protective clear sleeve, carefully place each in a paper mount, then seal the mount. It is a long and tedious process, and one that I must do myself (so I usually put it off until I have some dead time, like I did today). But it is the first chance that I have to take a good look at what I have shot, so it is not all that bad.

So after many hours of eye strain, and 240 mounted transparencies, I shut off the light table and headed out the door into the last hour of daylight. I wandered up to Aspen's meadow to enjoy the light show going on in the western sky - lots of clouds around, but the setting sun was breaking through here and there.

As I was wandering around the meadow trying to clear my head and get my eyes back to normal, I came across a projectile point sticking straight up out of the dirt - I saw it from ten feet away. It was very odd looking. I reached down and picked up a PERFECT and COMPLETE arrowhead! Wow, this was a very important find for me, and the first intact arrowhead that I have ever found on my own property (well, actually I am just the caretaker of this property, as it really belongs to the ages).

The arrowhead was fashioned from a nearly black piece of flint, and shaped a bit like the french Concorde Jet, with an upturned and very sharp nose. I had never seen an arrowhead like this before. This sharp-pointed nose is what was sticking up out of the dirt. I could hardly believe that it had survived all this time without that point breaking off - it narrows down to perhaps 1/8 inch in diameter. I suspect that someone who knows such things could take one look at this point and tell me who made it and when by the style. I shall have that done one of these days.

I arrived at the cabin just in time to watch the only two regular TV shows that I watch every week - The West Wing and Felicity. I have been known to be a TV junkie, and have no bones about saying it. But these days I am so busy that I don't get much chance to watch anything, but I do make it a point to be in front of the bube tube on Wednesday nights. I found it odd that the two shows like I like so much come on at exactly the same time on the same night! (This just began last week when one of them moved.) Since you can't tape one show while watching another on a satellite system, I was in trouble. But I managed to get a Denver WB network station for $1.50 a month, and Felicity come on an hour later than The West Wing, so I can watch them both.

And before any of you begin to criticize me for watching TV, I must tell you that I don't care what others think about this - it is entertainment for me, and if I can enjoy a few minutes of it why should anyone else care? Someone told me once that anyone who watches soap operas could never be successful. I was watching As The World Turns at the time and was a bit offended. I was really watching it because I had a crush on Meg Ryan - this was long before the rest of the world discovered her. Speaking of soaps, that will about do it for my soapbox today...

Later on I settled into the hot water, basked in the glow of a half moon, as the soreness in my bones were bubbled away into the night.

4/13/00 It was a glorious sunrise today! Mostly clear, with a few clouds hanging around, and very still out. Lots of birds singing, and the rivers below were making a bit of noise as well.

From my precise calculations it appears that the forest is about 50% in bloom, with the rest of the trees close behind and just showing a tad of green. The cold temps and the rain has slowed the progress down a bit. Although when I took off on a hike up towards the East meadow, the forest along the way barely had any trees budding out - perhaps only 10%. So it is still a bit spotty up here, but with sunshine and warmer temps today, I suspect most of the forest will be budding/leafed out by this weekend.

I came across these bright red leaves at the base of a stump next to the trail - brand new growth for sure, but with fall color instead of spring green.

The grass in the East meadow is beginning to get pretty tall, and Aspen just loved romping around in it. And this meadow is filled with redbud trees, and they are still hanging on after having been in bloom for nearly a month - one of the best redbud years ever.

I bid a reluctant farewell to Cloudland for a few days and headed down into the Ouachitas for a bit of socializing and photography.

One humorous note about a fund raiser that I attended at the Arkansas Arts Center in Little Rock. It was billed as a very casual affair, and there were 1200 of us packed into the center wandering around looking at all of the great art and other items in their silent auction. I wore my standard outfit of jeans and tennis shoes. Many of the other folks were all dressed up with fancy clothes and such. What was funny was that dinner consisted of hot dogs wrapped in foil that were passed out by strolling volunteers (along with some very good booze). I found it amusing to watch some of the folks in fancy duds eating hot dogs while standing in the middle of a crowd.

4/14/00 The first half of my day was spent waiting for a replacement camera to arrive from Contax. It seems that I completely destroyed my camera in the fall. They are going to ship a replacement camera next week, but for now I was back in business with the loaner camera.

I spent the afternoon leading a group of young doctors and friends on a hike along part of the Ouachita Trail. It was supposed to be sunny and hot, but it remained cloudy all day, which really brought out the rich greens of the spring forest. The scenery and the terrific company made for a delightful hike. We saw tons of wildflowers - including crested iris, fire pink and phlox - plus some wildlife too, including a speckled king snake and a couple of wild turkeys. And we came across this magical little spot where dozens of cinnamon ferns were growing on both sides of the trail. These ferns were three-four feet tall - the largest of all the wild ferns around here.

 Cinnamon fern along the Ouachita Trail

Once the hike was finished, I just had to return to that stand of cinnamon ferns and take a few pictures. It was getting late, but the light was just incredible. I don't know what it is for sure, but sometimes overcast skies produce remarkable light, and sometimes just plain wonderful light. It was remarkable light this day, and not a single hint of a breeze. Since my exposures were between 15-30 seconds long, I had to have it completely still. (After looking at the processed transparencies from this shoot, I can tell you the light was simply incredible, and the shots of the ferns turned out great.)

4/15/00 It was supposed to be clear and sunny all day - not very good for pictures - but I got up very early and headed for Lake Catherine State Park to shoot a waterfall there just in case the morning fog hung around long enough for a few pictures. Son of a gun, it was very cloudy at first light, and remained that way most of the day. The waterfall was not all that great, but I did find this incredible batch of young Ohio Buckeye trees along the trail. The patterns of the leaves intrigued me and I spent nearly an hour trying to capture their beauty on film.

Then it was on to Cossatot Falls State Park Natural Area. The water was high from recent rains, and the spot that I needed to get to out in the middle was under water and the route to it was very dangerous. I say high water - this is a floater's paradise when the water is really up and running - kayaks mostly - but it wasn't quite that high today, just high enough to impede my progress.

I had to find a spot to cross the river. That was not easy. There were places where the water was calm, but I could not go any deeper than waist deep because my camera bag would get wet. I located a spot upstream from the main waterfall area, and made a trial run without my gear. It was just waist deep, and if I was careful, I could make it across without getting my gear wet (didn't want to ruin two cameras in one week!). But the bottom was VERY slick, and I slipped and fell in on my way back to shore. Oops. Good thing it was just a dry run without my gear.

I really wanted this shot, so I decided to risk it. And after placing my camera and each lens in individual plastic bags and then into the camera pack when was covered with a waterproof cover, I ventured out into the cold water. I extended my tripod legs and used it as a walking stick. After what seemed like an eternity, I reached the other side without falling in.

Getting across the river was only half the battle. I still had to get out to the spot in the middle of the river where I could get my picture. Once again I made a dry run without my gear - the water got up to my waist again, only this time is was white water, and one slip would send me shooting downstream. But I made it OK, and returned very carefully with my camera gear, found a spot on a rock to shoot, and got my picture.

The superdog was not allowed off of his leash today because there were other folks in the immediate area. So Lisa (she actually wants to be called Lucy in the journal, so I will refer to her as Lucy from now on) stayed behind with Aspen. They took up a spot on the "dry" side of the river with a good view of all my activities - so that they could laugh at the approximate moment if I ever fell in. Aspen sat quietly on the rocks while Lucy got out her sketch pad and did a bit of work herself.

OK, picture taken, not it was time to return. On the way back I found this wonderful batch of firepink wildflowers growing out of the middle of this unusual moss. The moss was more like miniature ferns, although thick and mosslike. I got a good picture of them, then bagged everything back up again for the trip back across the river, which went off without a hitch.

We gradually made our way along back roads past Shady Lake and up to Tall Peak, where there is a neat old rock fire tower that looks down into the Caney Creek Wilderness Area. Unfortunately there is also a giant modern tower of some sort there as well, and the view is messed up with many electrical wires.

But the top of this mountain was very special because of the wildflowers growing there. The ground was literally covered with deep purple spiderworts - more than I had ever seen in my life before! It was a stunning sight to behold. And as luck would have it, the wind was howling, so I could not take any pictures. No matter, it was a pure joy to see this incredible display of nature.

4/16/00 Petit Jean State Park was my destination today, and I spent nearly an hour shooting the big waterfall there. You can't have a spring book about Arkansas without waterfall pictures, and this is one of the most famous in the state. And speaking of waterfalls, I have been working on a guidebook to Arkansas waterfalls for a while now, and hope to get it published sometime in the near future - perhaps next year. It will contain a photo of each waterfall, along with a map and description of how to get there. The guidebook will include all of the major waterfalls in the state, like Cedar Falls at Petit Jean, but also dozens of wilderness waterfalls too that are not marked on maps.

Cedar Falls at Petit Jean State Park

The civilized highlight of the day was this terrific brunch with Lucy back in Little Rock. The name of the restaurant had the word Luna in it, so naturally I was drawn to it. Great food. Later that night, after I had returned to Cloudland, I became violently ill. I will spare you the details, but suffice it to say that it must have been one bizarre sight to have seen me out on the balcony, naked, with a bright moon shining down, recycling the wonderful brunch.

4/17/00 I was still very weak from the trauma of the night before, but alive, something I would not have bet on at midnight. I eased into the hot tub just as sunshine filled the wilderness below. There was not a bit of wind anywhere. I really needed to get up and shoot a few pictures, but was just too weak. I knew how bad off I was when I was unable to finish my Starbucks mocha.

I called Lucy to report on my condition, thinking she would give some much needed moral support, only to discover that she had a similar night, and the thought of having even a half cup of mocha made her even sicker. Hum, must have been that great brunch, since it was the only food that we had shared all weekend.

I had pressing business in town, so I crawled into the truck and drove away. By the end of the day I had recovered somewhat, and managed to find a good spot to shoot a few sunset pictures. The sky was filled with waves of clouds that lit up red and orange and yellow. I also found these terrific maple "wings" that were bright red - I mean BRIGHT red! The wind was blowing however, so I could not get any pictures of them, but I put them in my mental list to return to at a later date.

When I returned to the cabin the nearly full moon had risen into a rose-colored sky. I hiked on up to Aspen's meadow. This continues to be a magical, mystical place with a natural recharging ability. I laid down in the new grass, listened to a whip-poor-will in a nearby tree, and let the moonlight cleanse my body and soul. And I must say that it really worked, because within a half hour I got up, refreshed and rejuvenated and ready for another day. I returned to the office and worked for a couple of hours, answering 43 e-mails, and going through all of the processed film that I had shot this past week.

4/18/00 Man, I missed the most SPECTACULAR sunrise by ten minutes this morning! When I awoke and looked out the window the color in the clouds was fading. Since you can't really tell from one look at a sunrise or sunset if the color is coming or going, I got up and ran outside and set up my camera gear. After a few minutes I realized that the color was on the way out, and that I had missed my picture. One should always be up early enough - just in case there is a terrific sunrise.

For the first time since last fall, the view out into the wilderness was not brown. Most of the trees are now leafing out, and the entire scene had a green glow to it. Looking to the west I could see another hillside that still was mostly brown. It is still spotty here in the Ozarks, but greening up nicely.

The forest floor too is greening up. It has been mostly brown and grey all winter, but now there are millions of green spots pushing up through all the dead leaves - wildflower leaves by the score, colonies of mayapples, tender shoots of no telling what all, stalks of wild comfrey (giant forget-me-not) with their tiny blue flowers, and scores of Virginia Creeper and our old friend poison ivy.

The middle section of the forest understory is green as well, consisting mainly of young trees, bushes, and lots of dogwoods which are beginning to leaf out now - not too many in bloom yet. It has been an off year for dogwoods in other parts of the state, and they have been blooming after leafing out, which is never quite as scenic as when the brilliant white blossoms pop out in a brown forest before the green leaves are visible. There are still a few redbud trees hanging on up here - I have never seen them stick around as long, nor be as vibrant as they have been this year.

Since my paperwork has been piling up, and I was still a bit weak from my bout with food poisoning, I spent nearly the entire day in the office. There was a bright blue sky and lots of wind outdoors, which is great for hiking, but not for taking pictures.

I did manage a bike ride out to the mailbox to get the mail, with the superdog running along beside. The temp was just right, and the sunshine and breeze felt great.

Later in the afternoon, I was compelled to spend an hour in the hammock - first time this spring. Since the wind was blowing so hard I had to make sure it didn't blow away. Aspen spent this time scurrying about after a bunny or two.

Bob brought a group of friends by a couple of times. They spent most of the day out hiking the trails in the area, including the ladder trail down to the river and back. Once while Aspen was showing off for them - he was running full speed in a figure eight pattern, tearing around and weaving in between the group - he ran right into a large rock, which put him out of commission for a while. Silly dog.

The wind seemed to pick up as darkness approached, and I took off on a hike around the property. Besides the superdog, I was accompanied by an endless sea of mayapples which were all swaying in the wind. Few things in the wilderness are as perfect as a mayapple with that single bright white bloom, hidden beneath a canopy of green. The best way to talk to one of these flowers, indeed the only way, is to get down on your belly and get eye to eye. Kind of gives you a whole new perspective on life in general from down there.

Evening light on a mayapple blossom

As I am sitting here in my office typing this, another perfect wilderness item is appearing right outside my window - the full moon is rising into the evening sky, fronted by a forest of waving trees with just a hint of new green around them. And a whip-poor-will strikes up his lively tune. Ah yes, it is springtime at Cloudland.

4/19/00 PROGRAM NOTE: For those of you in Arkansas who read this in time, be sure to watch "Talkin' Outdoors at the Corner Cafe" Thursday night at 6:30 on AETN (the Arkansas Educational Television Network). I'm headed down to their studios in Conway today to tape a show about camping in Arkansas. It will air tomorrow night.

LOTS OF WIND today, and plenty of sunshine to go with it. But many clouds racing across the sky as well, boiling up from the south - RAIN I hope. That darn broken record again - we are very dry in the Ozarks, and need about a foot of rain. I would settle for an inch tonight, and then a couple of inches a week for awhile. Must be time to go up into Aspen's meadow and do a rain dance.

Just returned from the TV studios down in Conway. The show was a lot of fun. I got to be on with Steve "Wildman" Wilson of the Arkansas Game and Fish Commission (it is his weekly show - he is NOT the same "Wildman" as frequents Cloudland), and Shannon Caldwell, who works with the Game and Fish Commission's Project Wild, and who also works as an environmental educator with the Arkansas 4-H Center. Steve was a great host and kept things moving constantly. And it was a delight to work with Shannon - I was really just there as filler as she had all the hiking equipment and lots of good tips for folks. The show was geared toward families and kids, and she works with them a great deal, besides being an avid outdoors person herself. I mostly talked about Cloudland and falling off of bluffs and that sort of thing. The set of the show is a corner table in a cafe - a very informal setup. And the format is simply a couple of folks sitting around the table talking about the outdoors - it works very well I think.

Steve "Wildman" Wilson and Shannon Caldwell during the taping of the TV show.

The old man from Cloudland is on the left with the Wildman and Shannon - two of us required a great deal of makeup.

On the way back up the mountain I stopped at the Burger Barn at Ozone for a custom built chocolate shake -the best that you will find in the Ozarks. Then Aspen and I took a break and hiked a bit of the Ozark Highlands Trail nearby. The wind was blowing hard, nearly bending some of the trees over, so it was no use for me to look for pictures. All of that wind is blowing in some rain I hope.

As I was wandering around back at home between the office and the cabin, I realized that there are dozens of neat little pictures right along my path - tiny wildflowers mixed with new leaves of this or that, mayapples, and just all sorts of stuff. But today I could only admire their swaying little bodies, as the wind continued to howl. It was a warm wind though, and felt great.

The wind continued to roar, but it had a different sound than what had kept me awake all night the night before. So I changed my tactic somewhat about it. I pretended that the big one had indeed struck California (sorry Nanette), and the ocean had risen up into the Ozarks, creating beach-front property at Cloudland. I imagined the sound of the wind was the waves crashing up against the big bluff below. And sure enough, within minutes I was fast asleep.

4/20/00 But my dream didn't last too long. Soon the sky lit up with an incredible electrical storm, the cabin shook, and it began to pour - YIPPIE! A little bit of hail, but not too much. Just a lot of heavy rain and wind, and a great deal of bright flashes. While I had gotten up out of bed and had the camera at the ready, the lightening bolts all seemed to be up in the clouds, and none could be seen directly, so I didn't get any pictures. No matter, the rain was so nice.

A couple hours later, as I slipped into the hot tub before dawn, it was a bit eerie outside. The sky was perfectly clear, no wind at all, and a brilliant moon hung in the western sky. It was dark, but not really so. And there was a whip-poor-whill calling out as if to see if everyone was OK.

I hiked on up to the office in the eerie darkness, passing moon reflections in many pools of water. Aspen was off chasing bunnies. Hum, must be getting close to Easter.

4/20/00 I got up early and headed out for a few days of work out of town. The first stop was Eureka Springs, where I got to hike the Lake Leatherwood Trail, a trail that I built several years ago. I was a bit surprised to see that it was still in pretty good shape. I knew that mountain bikes had been using it heavily, but their volunteers had been helping to keep it up, even to the point of hauling in gravel to make their tires have less of an impact. There was still quite a bit of obvious damage, but I assume they will be working on it more to keep it in good shape.

This is an interesting city park - the largest in the US supposedly. There is a wonderful lake there, with very good fishing, campsites, cabins, and the terrific trail that circles the lake. And a highlight of the trail is that it crosses the top of the dam. This dam was the largest cut stone one in the country when it was built (I think that is correct). It is an impressive sight walking across it now for sure! And I stumbled upon a sea of yellow lady slipper orchids - one in bloom yet. I will have to return once they pop out.

The entire day was windy and mostly sunny, so I didn't get any pictures taken. No matter - it was great to spend some time in and around Eureka. We spent the night at the historical Palace Hotel, which was very nice. Both Lucy and I were both looking forward to a great dinner at one of the wonderful restaurants there. But there was a long wait at our first choice place, and since I absolutely REFUSE to stand in line for food at a restaurant (funny, but I don't mind it at a cafeteria), we went on in search of another place to eat. It appeared that the rest of the town was abandoned - every place was empty - not a good sign. So after driving/walking around for nearly an hour, we ended up at BUBBA'S BBQ. Not exactly the fine dining experience that we had in mind, but there were a lot of folks there, we didn't have to wait, and the food was pretty good. And best of all, neither of us got sick!

4/21/00 The wind was howling once again today, and lots of sunshine. I spent some time hiking around the Dogwood Trail at Beaver Lake dam, and touring the countryside, looking for interesting shots to take if the wind ever quit. It was blowing really hard. I did manage one good scene, with a nice dogwood and lots of brilliant green colors everywhere. I must say that the dogwoods around Eureka were the best that I had seen in the state this year by a long shot. That darn wind! I managed to get a wonderful slice of Chocolate Creame Pie at the Mud Steet Cafe before leaving town.

Later that night I met with a group of photographers at the Pack Rat in Fayetteville. They came from as far away as St. Louis. I love getting together with groups like these - all different levels of expertise and personalities represented.

4/22/00 I picked up a rented van (actually a small bus it seemed like) and gathered up all of the photographers very early and headed out for King's River Falls Natural Area. We spent all morning there taking pictures and talking about photography. The light was simply horrible - clear blue skies - but they all got some good shots anyway. One thing that I do for my workshops is to pass out a roll of film with an assignment, then send the film into Colliers Photo in Fayetteville to be processed, and then we look at and critique the film later in the day - it is a great learning experience.

While we didn't find any good dogwoods to take pictures of, there were lots of wild iris blooming, plus other wildflowers, and plenty of others interesting things to photograph.

From the falls area we moved on to another great spot and spent a couple of hours shooting there. And then we arrived at Cloudland. My dear Lucy had been slaving away all day preparing homemade chocolate chip cookies and FRESH SQUEEZED lemonade, which we devoured upon our arrival. (She reported that the hammock was working very well, so I guess she didn't spend all of her time in the kitchen!) It was a beautiful afternoon to sit out on the back deck and relax. Nature photographers work very hard, but we also know how to kick back.

Our critique session lasted long into the night back in town. It was great to see how every single one of the dozen photographers got a terrific yet different photograph of exactly the same area.  It was midnight before I returned to Cloudland. I was one tired puppy.

4/23/00 Sometime during the night I heard raindrops. No better music to my ears right now. Unfortunately there was nothing at daylight but clear sky. It was a lazy Easter Sunday, and try as he might, Aspen could not find a bunny to play with. The wind was howling at a constant 40mph. All I could do was sit back and watch. And go on a hike.

We spent some time just wandering around the area, soaking up the lush springtime - most everything was green and leafing out now. We found a number of umbrella magnolia trees in bloom, and the fragrance was nearly overwhelming. Plus a TON of wild iris in bloom  - some very pale, others this really rich color.

I had wanted to take a look at the yellow lady slipper orchids and see how they were coming along. Much to our surprise and delight they were in BLOOM, and just gorgeous! The bunch was smaller this year than last, but they were large blooms and a deep yellow. I failed to take my digital camera along, so no picture to show you, but I will get back there sometime soon and post a view.

By the time we got back to the cabin clouds had gathered and there were a few raindrops a falling. Nothing too heavy, but I would take anything. The clouds begin to build and swirl around and put on a pretty nice show down in the valley below. They are calling for a bit of rain this week, but I am not going to hold my breath. I'm just going to get up every day and go out and take pictures of whatever I can find. And from the looks of how lush and beautiful everything is getting around here, I suspect that my film processing bill will be a large one this week!

4/24/00 Lots of grey and black clouds swirling around at daylight. But the moon was sticking out through all of them as well, which meant blue skies close by. It didn't rain all that much during the night here, although I know much of the rest of the state got pounded. For some reason, the Ozarks have a rain shield up this spring and have missed most of the rain.

As I sat there in the hot water planning my day, I closed my eyes and tried to count the number of birds that I could hear. There seemed to be a different sound coming from each little turn of my head. Some were close by, others way far out. Twenty seven. That's how many different birds I could hear. It sounded like a jungle out there. Everyone was pleased to see the rain. I was a happy camper too, and could hardly wait for it to get light enough for me to get out and go to work with the camera (I tried to ignore the constant wind). That is where I am heading now, out into the wilderness for a tough day at the office. Hey, and it is Monday too - my favorite day of the week!

Just before I headed out the door I took a look at the weather channel and discovered that my beloved cloud cover would only last part of the morning. So instead of driving somewhere and not having any time to shoot, I just went out the back door and pointed myself towards the river.

There was a herd of shooting star wildflowers crowded along the top edge of the bluff, waving and weaving in the wind - I think they were dancing to a country tune. But below the bluff there weren't many flowers out, except a bunch of phlox every now and then.

There were lots of interesting green plants of all kinds though, so I spent some time shooting their many shapes and forms. As I got closer to the bottom of the hill, more flowers appeared, as did several different types of ferns.

I have always loved ferns, and use them as subjects quite often. There is this one kind that I have never shot though, yet have always enjoyed looking it. They are very striking, although since they are so small, you really have to get down and look close. I don't know what their official title is, but I call them ladder ferns because that is what they remind me of.

Today there was a batch of ladder ferns growing up against a smooth rock near the creek. The group seemed just right for a picture, so I set up and spent nearly an hour shooting. The wind was gusting pretty good, so much of this time was spent waiting, with cable release in hand. They were such neat looking guys that I didn't mind the wait.

Once I was satisfied with my scene, I moved on over towards the river, just as the sun began peaking out from behind the clouds. It looked like my shooting for today was about to end. The sunshine was warm, and I found a perfect spot at the edge of a rock bar to nap, so what the heck. I pulled my hat over my eyes and drifted off to the soothing sounds of the rushing waters nearby.

Now you may think that I am nothing more than a slacker for taking a nap in the middle of a Monday morning. But it actually was part of my work today. You see, while I was in deep sleep, I had a vision. Well, maybe it was just a dream. I was moving around in a big city, trying to find my way out of a maze of tall buildings. Only the buildings were not typical buildings - they were all oblong and round and different muted colors of browns and reds and greys. No people there but me. I was blasted awake when one of the round buildings began to roll over right on top of me.

I opened my eyes and realized that while I had awakened from the dream, there were still these oblong and round buildings all around me, only they were very small, and not buildings at all, but rocks from the river, ground down by the timeless action of the white water. As I looked around the rock bar that I had been napping on I could not see a single straight edge anywhere. It was a very soft sort of a scene, but they were hard stones.

It all looked like a great picture to me, so I jumped up and dug out my camera gear. It didn't take much for me to create this wonderful little scene with all the smooth stones (I think that I moved three rocks out of the way, added a couple of others, and turned one or two rocks different directions). These were not polished, shiny rocks, but rather smooth sandstone, a bit gritty, that soaked up the light. I had to play cat and mouse with the sun, which kept popping in and out of the clouds (direct sunshine was not very flattering to the stones, kind of like people), but I did get a good image.

And then the sun came out for good, and it was time for me to head up the steep hillside and back to the other part of my job - the office. The farther up the hill I climbed, the stronger the wind got, until it was really howling near the top. Those shooting stars had gotten into rock and roll music, and they were really moving!

The late evening light was very nice, although the wind continued to blow so I could not take any pictures. But I did take the opportunity to go on a genuine "ramble" for the last hour of daylight, and it was a wonderful little walk indeed. A ramble is when you take off in no particular direction, with no destination in mind. In fact your mind is as much a part of the journey as your body is, because it is best to let your mind wander as your feet do.

The temp was perfect and the breeze felt great. Within minutes after I set out I found myself standing in the middle of the largest patch of mayapples that I had ever seen. I got down on the ground with them so that I could communicate at their level. Everywhere that I looked there were white flowers - it seemed like every two or three of the mayapples were in bloom - usually only a few in each bunch are in bloom at the same time, so this was really amazing. I believe they were enjoying springtime as much as I was.

I don't know, this sounds kind of weird, but sometimes when I am on a ramble like today I can feel different levels of energy coming from the forest. That energy is what directs me in a certain direction, up over this hill, along that bench, down into a particular draw. Trees themselves seem to open pathways and welcome me to stroll down them. It is a wonderful feeling of belonging, of knowing you are in the right place at the right time of your life. I guess Cloudland and the wilderness are like that in general for me, but I felt it even more so today, on my little ramble through the forest.

As the sun went down and the light began to fade I turned my boots toward home and thanked my tall buddies as I strode south, back to the warm glow of the cabin.

4/25/00 The alarm went off very early, well before daylight. I stomped on the floor and yelled down to Ray Scott in the guest room, a friend from Little Rock who had driven up to spend a day taking pictures. We needed to get up and get out and see what wonderful things we could point our cameras at. But first, the sky lit up with pinks and oranges and reds, and I had to take a few pictures from the front yard. Then we sped off.

Before long we were hiking into the Boen Gulf drainage. It feeds into the Buffalo River just upstream from the cabin. Since they were calling for sunshine and clear skies and wind all day, I really didn't think that we would get to shoot much, but the early light was very nice. We stopped almost immediately and spent a half hour shooting pictures of these lovely dogwoods along the trail - some of the largest blooms that I had ever seen.

Next we dropped on down to a set of waterfalls that I knew about. They were actually running pretty darn good, and there were tons of umbrella magnolia trees crowded around them. But the sun had begun to burn off the clouds and the light turned sour in a hurry. We did spend an hour or so in that area shooting what we could, and vowed to return when the light was better.

I wanted to see about getting down below the bluffline for some fern shots, and to look at another even larger waterfall, so we hiked on along the top of the bluff for awhile. It didn't  take us long to come to a halt and spend another hour taking pictures - a few clouds had gathered and the light was nice for a while.

Ray shot macros of some wild azaleas that were just beginning to bloom, while I was down on my hands and knees shooting this wonderful close-up scene of reindeer lichen, star moss and a tiny but brilliant red huckleberry bush.

Just as we sat down for a break, Aspen came running up to tell us about another great picture only a few feet away. There was a tight group of wood betony (or lousewort) flowers in bloom crowded around a nice small log, so we spent another half hour setting up and shooting that scene.

The big waterfall was running good too, but there wasn't a good place to shoot it from above, and the sun had returned anyway. We pressed on around the top of the bluffline, bushwhacking through some heavy timber. On and on we went, but there was no way down. We did find one break in the bluff that took us down to within ten feet of the level below, but there was no way to get down that last little bit, so we retreated, and eventually had to turn around altogether and go back the same way that we had come in.

As we drove on towards another shooting location, more clouds moved in, and it looked like we might get another opportunity to shoot pictures. We took an old county road down a steep hillside that goes past some neat rock formations that I know about. The forest there was alive with wildflowers, and in places the ground was literally covered with phlox, spiderworts and others. It was a photographers paradise for sure. Only thing was that the property on both sides of the old road was private, new no trespassing signs were up all along the way. I don't trespass, but will make an effort to ask permission before giving up.

As we were driving along an old pickup came at us. Looked like a couple of locals out having a good time. We stopped and chatted for a minute. The driver said that he lived nearby, but that he and his buddy had decided to take off the rest of the day and drink - it was obvious they had been doing a bit of that. He wanted to know exactly who I was and what I was doing. I told him that I lived up on Cave Mountain, and my name. Right then his facial expression changed, he said that he had wanted to talk to me, and he reached over and shut off the engine. Oops. I could tell that the look on Ray's face was one of terror, just like mine.

Then a broad smile appeared on the driver's face, and he looked over at his buddy, pointed to me, and said "this is the guy who took the picture of the dude hanging off of the rock!" He reached his hand through the window and shook my hand. Turned out to be a couple of nice guys, and they told us who owned the land. Whew. That was a close one.

We found the old house and drove up into the driveway, escorted by a number of large barking dogs. An elderly woman appeared at the front door, then came on out to talk to us. We told her what we were up to, and she said that she would have to go call her daughter to see if it would be OK if we took pictures on their land. In the meantime, her husband came wandering up and told us that he had lived there for 80 years. The guys in the truck had told us that these folks had just gotten electricity a year ago, which the old man told us as well. I'll bet you could sit down with they guy and spend a month listening to stories.

His wife returned and said it would be OK for us to take pictures. We thanked them and went on.

Our quarry was nearby - three giant rock slabs next to the road, each COVERED with Ozark spiderworts. I mean there were hundreds of these wildflowers, each clinging to the top of the rock. Ray climbed up on top of one rock and I another one. The wind was still and the sun was behind a bank of clouds. We were both in photo heaven!

Besides the fact that there were so many of the flowers on top of the rocks, there were four different colors of flowers, ranging from pure white to dark blue, each color group in its own little colony. It was an orgy for sure. Although I did limit myself to a single batch of flowers, and spent an hour shooting them several different ways.

OK, flowers shot, the sun was back out, time to move on. Since it was getting late, we headed back to the cabin and hiked on down to look at the lady slippers. The light was terrible, but Ray did set up one good shot from the side, while I held diffusers to soften the harsh light.

Yellow lady-slipper orchids

It had been a long day - thirteen hours of steady work - but I think we got some good images. Ray headed back to civilization while I opened a beer and put my feet up on the deck rail. Another tough day at Cloudland.

4/26/00 We were in the middle of a whiteout when I woke up. A thick layer of fog surrounded the cabin. Normally I would roll over and enjoy such a sight, or jump into the hot tub and soak up the visual delights. But not today - I had pictures to take! So I hit the ground running, grabbed my camera bag and tripod, and flew out the door.

Before I could go a hundred feet, I saw a great scene. The fog was lifting quickly, and the sun was  about to rise and break through it, but for the moment the dark trees silhouetted in the fog were marvelous, and went on forever down the hillside. Click, whirr. Click, whirr. My camera motor raced through an entire roll of film.

I moved on and found another great scene. More money in the bank for Fuji (my film maker) and Colliers Photo in Fayetteville (they process all of my film). Another roll. Then another. And another.

Just as I was setting up for another shot, the call of nature stuck, and I was forced to return to the cabin to take care of it. And while sitting there I discovered yet another terrific scene - quite literally right out of my bathroom window. So I raced back into the woods where my camera gear was, returned to the cabin, removed the screen from the window, set up the camera, and shot an entire roll of film.

Then I remembered the original destination for my morning shoot - a stand of mayapples in the fog. But the fog was lifting once again (fog often will go through several phases of lifting over a period of an hour or two, each layer reveling another wonderland), and so I took off running, heading towards the closest bunch of mayapples that I knew of.

I had been setting this picture up in my mind for a long time, even know which mayapple would be the star, so I took my place, got down on my belly, and set up the camera gear. It was a wonderful scene, with a huge, white blossom taking center stage, against a backdrop of a hundred mayapples spreading out into the forest behind, and the towering trees above. All of it cloaked in a layer of fog, which was about to disappear. I had to work fast.

OK, got everything set up, the light was perfect, no wind. I took a meter reading and fired off the first shot. Just as I was getting ready to run through my usual array of different exposures to make sure that I got one perfect, disaster struck - Aspen came crashing right through the middle of the scene! Not only did he mess up many of the mayapples, but he knocked of a couple of the petals of the blossom, and my scene was ruined. No fault of his - it was just play time.

So I packed everything up and went searching the forest for another stand of mayapples with a brilliant flower in just the right location. I found one, but it was too late - the fog had lifted too much, and the forest was filled with bright sunshine.

Dejected, I headed on back to the cabin. And then I spotted yet another great scene - the sun was breaking through yet another layer of fog, sending beams of light down through the trees. I set up and shot another two rolls of film. Not enough fog for the mayapple picture, but the new scene was pretty nice.

Of course, even though I had shot eight or ten different terrific scenes in the fog, I could only use one of them in the book - I like to give myself lots of choices. So most of my film would turn out to be wasted. But that is OK - I absolutely LOVE to take pictures, and when a wonderful situation like the thick fog is happening, I will shoot and shoot and shoot until all of my film is gone, just for the fun of it.

Early morning with fog bank below, looking west up the Whitaker Creek drainage

Right now I am sitting a the computer in the cabin, waiting for one more scene to materialize. There is this picture from the back deck of the cabin that I want to use on the front cover of the Cloudland Journal book that will be published later this year (the first year of the journal - we are getting close to the end of the second year right now). It is just like the picture that is on the opening page of the Cloudland online journal. That picture is just fine, only I took it with my snapshot camera on print film. The quality is just not good enough for the cover of a book, so I have to reshoot it with my good camera on transparency film. And since I want to get the bear in the picture as well as the fog scene, I have to use fill flash to get everything just right, and I have never had the flash here when the scene looked just right. But today I have the flash, the camera, the film, and the fog. But the fog bank is not quite right, so I decided to sit here and wait for just the right moment, getting a little writing in while I wait. Sometimes this job of mine out here is very tough you see.

Thick fog bank below, looking south and up into the Buffalo headwaters

Whew, the fog bank finally settled to just the right spot, I got my picture, plus two other great scenes. It is now 9:30am, I have shot about $500 worth of film and processing, and I never ventured more than a couple hundred yards from my pillow.

It had turned out to be one SPECTACULAR spring day in the Ozarks - I mean, no finer day anywhere in this country. Bright blue sky, brilliant green foliage all around, warm with a hint of breeze. As I made my way up to the office I remembered that there was another picture that I wanted to take, and I needed bright blue skies for it! So I strapped on the camera pack again and headed out into the forest.

I wanted to shoot a picture looking up through the forest with blue sky for a backdrop and the sun as a starburst shining through the bright green leaves. All I had to do was look up from just about anywhere, but I wanted just the right trees for the picture, so I wandered on for a while, finally finding the right combination in a grove of hickory and maple trees. Another $100 of film but a fine picture!

I am in the office now, typing away. Aspen is just outside. Three times in the past hour he has let out a blood-curdling howl and sped off into the woods, barking at the top of his lungs, then quickly returning. I have gone out to see what all the fuss is about each time, but have not ever seen anything. I wonder if there is a bear out there, coming in close to see what I am all about? Now that I have the journal updated, and the sky is cobalt blue with bright sunshine and no more pictures for me to take today, I think I shall go out on another ramble and see if I can spot Mr. bear.

Never did find any black hairy beasts, but did have a nice little hike around the area. And then a few clouds gathered, and I jumped into the truck and headed out to look for a few more pictures.

A couple folks had told me about this waterfall spot a ways off, so I thought I would try to find it and see what it was all about. No trail, just a bit of bushwhacking down a steep hillside to a spot where two drainages come together. It was a longer than expected hike, but the light remained good and there was actually water in the creeks, so I was excited.

As I approached the spot where I knew the waterfall had to be the entire forest changed and took on a rare personality. Sometimes you just know that you are in a great spot when you feel this type of personality happening.

Then boom, right off the bat, there was this wonderful waterfall that spilled into a deep pool. The falls were not really all that tall, but that pool was great. This creek was no more than three feet wide, yet the pool was six feet deep. Since it was a tough hike to get to this spot, and I had really worked up a sweat, I felt the need to strip off my wet clothes and take a dip.

YIKES that water was cold!!! From my screams Aspen thought that I had spotted a bear. Needles to say I did not remain in the pool very long. But it was a most refreshing dip.

There was another stream nearby that created a nice waterfall, and then the two flowed together and leaped over the edge of a tall bluff. I creeped on over to get a good view and found a lovely paradise below, one filled with umbrella magnolia trees, dogwoods, wild azalea, and lush with ferns. It was a magical place indeed. Oh yea, the waterfall was pretty darn nice too, crashing down onto a number of large lichen-covered boulders.

I made my way down through a break in the bluffline and spent some time just wandering around, searching for picture opportunities. Believe it or not, even though this was one of the most spectacular waterfall spots that I had seen in a while, there weren't all that many great picture spots. Sometimes it is just like that - a stunning place but not right for photography. Of course, all the while I was looking around and trying this angle or that, I was thinking in the back of my head that it would really look spectacular with a lot more water. The falls were flowing pretty good, but would really get cooking with normal water flow.

There was one scene that I kept coming back to - the main falls framed by two large trees - so I set up and shot a few chromes. But that was the only scene that I shot. A wonderful place that would be high on my priority list when we get some good rains.

The trip out was a lot tougher because it was ALL uphill, but I was rewarded by one incredible sight along the way. Once while stopping to gasp for breath, I caught a flash of yellow out of the corner of my eye. Lady slippers! There were several of them scattered about, but one that was really special. It was all by itself, and was growing right in front of this old weathered stump that had a hole in it. I spent about thirty minutes down on my belly working with the camera. I tried to figure out a way to put the camera inside the stump and shoot the orchid through that hole, but there was just no way to do that short of cutting the stump in half. But the shot that I got was perfect enough. What a splendid hike!

By dark the clouds had drifted off and the night sky was filled with a million silver sparkles. The moon was late coming up, so the sky was really black. It won't be long now before we have star gazing parties and spend the night searching for shooting stars.

4/27/00 The first thing that came to mind when I opened my eyes early this morning was that I still didn't have a good mayapple blossom picture. So I jumped out of bed and raced into the woods. There were a few cloud banks on the eastern horizon. The wind was calm.

I found a good group of mayapples that had lots of blooms, and I got down on my belly and set up the camera. As I looked around I noticed that I was laying in a bed of poison ivy. So far I have not been allergic to it, but they tell me my time is coming. I just hoped it was not this day.

I spent a very frustrating hour on my belly in the ivy, and shot several rolls of film, but I don't think I got my picture. This is one of the best mayapple blossom years that I have ever seen, but that perfect image seems to elude me. I don't know, maybe when there are so many of the flowers I feel like I have to produce some super-marvelous image (yea, that is correct), instead of just being happy with the best shot that I can get. I will continue to push myself though until I see something in the viewfinder and on the light table that is great.

While the national weather map on CNN continued to show rain across all of Arkansas during the day, there was hardly a cloud in the sky - nothing but sunshine and lots of wind. I honestly don't know where they get those weather maps!

Had to make an emergency trip into town to get parts for the hot tub which has been on the blink all week. A mouse somehow got into the inside of the cabinet and chewed up a vital hose. Fortunately, it was something that I could diagnose myself and get the necessary parts from the hot tub store and install myself, saving a four-hour service call.

The evening light was just wonderful, although the wind continued on so I couldn't take any pictures. I was forced to sit on the back deck with a pitcher of strawberry daiquiris and enjoy the view. Darn.

Later, under a black sky filled with a gazillion stars, I enjoyed a light show of a different kind while soaking in the newly fixed hot tub. There were lots of lightening bugs out flying around, and their yellow streaks contrasted well with the silver stars. One little guy got his rear end stuck in the on position, and flew around for twenty minutes that way. Sometimes its the little things that get and keep your attention.

4/28/00 Birds, birds, BIRDS! I was up and in the tub well before daylight, and the air was filled with singing and drumming and all kinds of bird noises. As light crept across the wilderness, I could see many feathered friends playing about. A hummer got right in my face - probably asking where the feeder was; a pair of phoebes were flying back and forth from their nest under the overhang on the west end of the cabin - you can always tell a phoebe because it will dip its tail all the time when sitting on a limb; there were several goldfinches and indigo buntings out in the trees, and flying across the meadow below; a couple of woodpeckers knocking their heads into trees across the way, which echoed up and down the valley; and then there was gobble, gobble, gobble from way down in the canyon - some bearded dude calling out for a hot turkey date. It was a noisy but delightful soak this morning.

The sun appeared only briefly - a brilliant red ball peeking out from behind a slit in the cloud bank on the eastern horizon. The rest of the sky was filled with dark clouds, although they were moving around and appeared to be breaking up.

A few minutes later I was face down once again in a patch of mayapples, trying once more for that perfect picture. I shot about 100 images and now feel pretty good that at least ONE of all my attempts this week will turn out. As I hiked back to the office I realized that nearly all of the forest floor on this particular hillside was covered with poison ivy and Virginia creeper.

And a tick update. I know that a lot of folks are just terrified of these tiny little critters, and there is absolutely no reason to be. There is not an explosion of them this year as many fear. I am often in the woods all day now, and I seldom ever see more than a few at most - usually only two or three all day. It is possible to run into a batch of "seed ticks" (very tiny baby ticks), but for the most part you won't see many ticks, at least in the woods. And if you do find one on you, just pull it off and kill it. No big deal. Even if it has dug in, still just reach over and pull the sucker off with your fingertips - no need for tweezers or those fancy tick pullers. Whatever you do, don't leave it on you - get rid of it. And after a day in the woods, just before you shower, take a good look around and see if there are any that you missed during the day. I have a "tick inspection" mirror in each bathroom at the cabin specifically for this purpose. So don't worry about the stupid ticks - the alarm about them must be being spread by weathermen...

4/29/00 A very early start to a rather long day - I worked from about 5:30am to after midnight. Just another day in the springtime woods! Actually, I spent the day with a photo workshop group of mine, and we had a delightful time traveling around and taking pictures of wildflowers and waterfalls and whatever happened to walk in front of our lenses (there were at least fifteen different species of wildflowers in bloom along the trail to Kings River Falls alone). As usual, this was a mixed group of folks from around the state, with different expertise levels and interests. And we had everything from a very basic manual camera from the 1970's to one of the most sophisticated Nikon's that you have to be licensed to drive. We all learned a lot (at least I hope they did!) and had a grand time. The tour included a brief stop at Cloudland, where we snacked and sipped a bit and enjoyed the view from the back deck.

Tripods are required at my workshops. Everyone here is shooting pictures of a Bigfoot creature that is just out of the scene.

Photo workshop crew on the back deck after a strawberry daiquiri or two.

After the exhausting day it was nice to slip into the hot bubbles and gaze up into the night sky, which was filled with tiny dots of twinkling silver. A hoot owl's call echoed across the wilderness to announce the arrival of this incredible shooting star that began in the east and streaked all the way to the western horizon.

4/30/00 It was a nice sunrise, but I'm afraid that I only got to view it from under the covers. I was one tired puppy. But the other puppy wasn't, and after ten minutes of badgering by him, I finally gave in and got up and jumped into the tub. It was a splendid day indeed, with blue sky, wind, and birds by the dozens singing and playing and having a big time.

Aspen did his usual bunny search routine. Several times I have watched him from the lower deck. He does pretty good at sniffing out and finding a bunny, but as he bounds around in the tall grass on the steep hillside below, the bunny is easy to spot - usually hopping off in the opposite direction.

Since the predicted rain and clouds were no where in sight (the weather man is about 0 for 7 this week), conditions were not good for pictures, so I got to go on an early hike around the place. The temp was in the upper 50's, but the wind cut into me a bit and I had to walk fast to stay warm.

It is funny how some species of plants do so well one year while others don't. I have seen quite a few things this year that I just never noticed before. Like yellow rocket for instance. This wild mustard wildflower is everywhere this year - not only along roadsides and in fields, but even out in the middle of the forest. It is a very striking plant, but difficult to photograph well (the wind is usually blowing!).

Yellow rocket wildflowers

And the red clover is just going wild this year. I don't really consider it much of a wildflower, but I guess technically it is.

Lots of red clover!

The yellow lady-slipper orchids are not doing nearly as well this year as in the past. At first I thought it was just a problem with the ones around here (far less blooms than normal). But one of the participants on my workshop yesterday confirmed that the same is true down in the Ouachitas where blooms are not as many as in past years.

But the REDBUDS just went wild this year, and I saw a couple of them still in bloom yesterday. Good grief - two months worth of redbuds!

By the way, for those of you who might be interested, I got the film processed from my last week of shooting, and the results were quite remarkable. Remember the foggy morning a couple of da