Category Archives: nature

Apples, Autumn, and Angles

My photography group assignment for September was “Composition.” We were told to photograph a small object in at least 10 different ways, experimenting with angle, distance, etc., and then to choose the 2 to 4 we liked best, which would be presented to the group and critiqued at our next meeting.

We could define “small” in any way we wished. We had to keep the object in a consistent environment, but we could alter its appearance by doing things like spraying it with water, immersing it in water, or cutting it in half. I’m sure that last suggestion applied only to inanimate objects!

Aside from trying to decide how I’d alter the poor object, the hard part for me (and for many of the rest of us, I’ve heard) was settling on a subject to photograph. I wanted to choose something interesting or unique. But then it dawned on me that I was in the group to learn, not to try and impress anyone. And the best way for me to learn composition, I figured, was to keep it simple. I chose an apple as my model.

After selecting the prettiest apple in my fruit bin, I hauled out my camera, two lenses, a tripod, a shiny background, a scarf, a lamp, and a flashlight. I piled everything on my bed and proceeded to set up various scenes using the apple as the star of my production.

I set the apple on a white board. I placed a black box behind it. I nestled it in a colorful scarf. I experimented with various shutter speeds and apertures. I waved the scarf behind it. I sprayed the apple with water and coated it in olive oil. I spent at least 4 hours taking photos of the damned apple.

Then I spent another hour or so editing my photos. But after all of that, I was unsatisfied. I felt like I hadn’t done a very good job on the assignment, and I was embarrassed to show my photos to the group. Even worse, I hadn’t learned anything about composition.

Then yesterday I went for a walk, and what did I see? Hundreds of small, rain-splashed autumn leaves glittering in the sun. Some had landed on top of a sewer cover. There was a strange beauty in all of that. Unfortunately, all I had with me was my iPhone, and there was someone walking behind me. Nervous about stopping, squatting down, and taking pictures with someone watching, I kept walking.

But after they passed me, I turned around. Sure, traffic was zooming by, and I’d be noticed by everyone in their cars as I crouched down, held that position for far too long, and then struggled to get up again (that did happen!), but so what? If a good picture is worth 1,000 words, it’s also worth a little embarrassment and creaky knees. I got to work.

After about 5 minutes, I had 30 pictures of leaves! And my knees survived! I couldn’t wait to get home and edit the pictures. I hadn’t used any fancy equipment. I didn’t have special lighting or backgrounds to play with. But instead, I decided to do what our mentor had said … notice something, stop, walk around it, and take pictures from different angles.

What do you think of the results? Which photos do you like best?

Did I learn something? Yes. I learned that beautiful objects can be found anywhere, even at the most unexpected times and in the most unexpected places … and that it pays to consider all the “angles.”

Capturing Summer

It’s the last day of August – but even without looking at the calendar I already know that summer’s end is fast approaching. The days are shorter, the nights cooler, and hundreds of sad, brown leaves have suddenly appeared on lawns and sidewalks in my neighborhood. I try not to notice them, but they lay there, taunting me. Some even have the audacity to crunch.

My sandals must be feeling neglected. Cool, damp mornings have sent me scrambling for my socks and sneakers – which is probably a good thing, since my summer pedicure (raspberry red polish this year) has seen better days.

My grandsons have gotten their back-to-school haircuts, too: another sure sign that the lazy, hazy, long-haired days of summer are over. You can see the boys’ smiling end-of-summer faces and new haircuts on my Photos page.

I used to dread this time of year, partly because I worked for a school district and had summers off, but mainly because I love summer and hate to see it come to an end. As someone with a June birthday, I like to imagine that my first impression of the world was a sunny and glorious one, filled with birds singing, kids splashing, and tons of ice cream. Yes, my love affair with June, July, and August goes way back.

But this year, rather than getting downhearted about the changing seasons, I’m trying to focus on the positive. I DID have a good summer. A pretty great one, in fact. The weather was good, especially for cloudy Rochester. I gardened. I walked. I mowed my lawn. I wrote and sang and played and took pictures. I visited family and friends. Family and friends visited me. And if all of that isn’t great, I don’t know what is.

Yes, the world is a mess right now. Some days I wonder how I can find joy in my surroundings when there are so many terrible things happening, but then I somehow manage to separate out the good from the bad. Getting outside in summer helps me with that. I go out and drink in the sunshine, and breathe in the warm air. I look around at all the living, thriving things, like trees, flowers, animals. I try and capture light and hold on to it for as long as I can.

Here is some light that I captured this summer, little moments that I enjoyed while being out and about with my camera. I’ll probably look at them again through the winter. I think that will be a little bit like sitting outside with the sun on my shoulders.

For more pictures of my summer (with captions so you’ll know what you’re looking at), visit my Photos page.

How was YOUR summer?

Brant Lake, Adirondacks, New York. I’ve always wanted to own a cabin there. I think I’ll have to settle for just driving around the lake and taking pictures.

Hopkins Sunflower Farm, Pittsford, New York.

Cardinal (male), Wild Wings walking trail, Honeoye Falls, New York. Wild Wings is a not-for-profit educational group that cares for permanently injured birds and has walking trails surrounding its facilities.

Don’t forget to check out my other photos, comment, and follow this blog (if you haven’t already) by hitting the Subscribe button! Thanks!

A Tale of Three Cities?

My hometown of Rochester, New York has been given a variety of nicknames over the years. Before 1850, it was known as “Flour City” due to the more than 20 flour mills situated along the Genesee River. In fact, at the time, Rochester was the largest flour producer in the world. 

Later, it was dubbed “Flower City,” since the world’s largest seed company, Ellwanger & Barry Nursery, was located here. The name “Flower City” continued to be a good fit after the inception of Rochester’s Lilac Festival (an annual May event). For more about the Lilac Festival and wonderful Highland Park, where it’s held, be sure to read my post, Lucky To Live in the ROC (Part 2).

Another of Rochester’s monikers over the years has been “Image City.” That’s because, not only were Kodak, Xerox, and Bausch & Lomb founded here, but George Eastman’s estate at 900 East Avenue is the world’s oldest photography museum, housing over a million objects in its photography and cinematography collections. And, like its city, this site also has three names: the George Eastman Museum, the George Eastman House, and the International Museum of Photography and Film.

As you might have guessed, Rochester is teeming with photographers, professional and amateur alike. I’m sure that’s part of what’s behind my interest in photography today.

I recently visited some of Rochester’s parks with my camera, and I’ll be posting photos here and on my Photos page. Here’s a little sample:

So, whether you call it Flour City, Flower City, or Image City, this city of mine is a pretty good place to be in spring, especially if you’re a visual person like me.

Don’t forget: Please click on “Photos” in my menu to see more scenes from my hometown, and let me know if you have a burning desire to purchase a download or print. 

Sweet Tweets

I’m trying to write another blog post – really, I am – but some noisy birds outside my window keep interrupting me. Quiet down! I’m trying to think!

Just kidding. I love birds. In fact, I just moved out to the sunporch so I can hear them better. I’m hoping for some avian inspiration.

Nothing’s coming to me, though. Oh well, no pressure. It’s not like it’s been 100 days since my last blog post or anything. Or … has it? Uh-oh. I guess it’s time to do what every self-respecting blogger has had to resort to at some point in their career: copy and paste someone else’s tweets! 

[The following is a full transcript of what I heard next.]

Cardinal: “Hi, Robbie. Glad you told us about this place. The food here at International House of Birdseed is primo!”

Robin: “You’ve got that right, Red. But by food, don’t you mean ‘grub’?”

Cardinal: “Right. I forgot you prefer those creepy crawlers. Oh look, here comes Jay!”

Blue jay: “Ah-ha! I knew I’d find you two characters here. And who’s this coming in for a landing? Could it be … Rose?”

Rose-breasted grosbeak: “Guys! This place is really hoppin’!”

Robin: “Yeah, and we’re all so diverse. Blue, yellow, red, black, white …”

House sparrow: “And brown! Don’t forget about us!”

Squirrel: “Yeah! That’s right!”

Grackle: “Move over, Squeaky … you’re on my patch of grass.”

Squirrel: “Oops, sorry big fella. Okay, enough with the small talk. Let’s eat. The food here is SO good.”

Cardinal: “And it’s all natural!”

Red-bellied woodpecker: “Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! You can say that again! The lady here doesn’t allow those nasty chemicals anywhere near the place. I can tell because there are SO MANY bugs up here in the trees.”

Chickadee: “That’s right, Woody. And dandelions, too. I can see them from here. There must be a million of them.”

Grackle: “Yeah, Dee. Not like next door. The lawn over there looks like a golf course, but don’t ever try and eat it. Eww!”

Blue jay: “I came across an interesting article about pesticides the other day while gazing down at someone’s iPhone.”

Rose-breasted grosbeak: “You can read?”

Blue jay: “Sure! We corvids are quite intelligent. Just go to birds.com if you don’t believe me. Anyway, according to the Audubon Society’s website, ‘It is estimated  that approximately 7 million wild birds are killed each year due to the aesthetic use of pesticides by homeowners.’ ”

Chickadee: “Yikes! I’ll stick to this lady’s yard for sure!”

Robin: “All I know is, the worms taste much better over here at this establishment. And speaking of the lady – is that her in the window? I think she’s on to us. Quick! Switch back to bird talk!”

Squirrel: “What about me?”

Robin: “Just keep your mouth shut until she leaves. Can you do that?”

Squirrel: “I’ll try!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Unfortunately, I couldn’t understand anything they said after they’d spotted me. I’ll have to be more clandestine in the future. So for now, I still don’t have anything to write about. But I did manage to snap a couple of photos!

A Reptile Made Me Do It – Episode 3

Recap: In Episodes 1 and 2, I told you how a turtle made me think reptiles were cute, how an endangered iguana made me write a song about reptile conservation, and how that song became a video and a book.

And now, in Episode 3, you’ll learn about how a lizard made me write another song, video, and book … and all about my upcoming visit to IguanaLand!


I’m a desert spiny lizard, but you can call me “DSL,”

Oh, I’m a desert spiny lizard, but you can call me “DSL,”

My life is hot and dusty … all this crawlin’ in the desert ain’t swell!

That’s how my song, “Desert Spiny Lizard Blues,” begins, and it just gets more blue after that. You can check it out for yourself here.

I really can’t remember what inspired me to write a song about a lizard, so, once again, I’m going to pin the blame on a reptile – probably the one whose photo graces the cover of my latest children’s book, “I’m a Desert Spiny Lizard.”

Yes, that’s right. I wrote a book about a lizard – because once “Desert Spiny Lizard Blues” was written, recorded, and uploaded to YouTube, I felt compelled to create a children’s book to go with it, much as I’d done with my song, “I’m an Iguana.”

Unexpectedly, I now have two reptile books for kids under my belt, and they’re packed with factual information that I learned from reptile experts. I’m proud to announce that I’ll be offering both of these cute, fun, and educational reptile books for sale at the 3rd annual IguanaFest in Punta Gorda, Florida this weekend!

Not only that, but I’ll be selling my own handmade reptile-themed holiday ornaments to go with the books.

It’s true. I’ve gone reptile-crazy. When I first laid eyes on this adorable reptile-themed fabric, I couldn’t resist buying the whole two yards that were left on the bolt, even though I had no idea what I would do with it. Eventually, the idea of making felt holiday ornaments came to me.

So you see, not only have reptiles managed to coerce me into writing songs and books about them, posed for photographs, and demanded to appear in videos, but now they’re even sending me out of state to a reptile FESTIVAL, at the largest reptile zoo in the world (a.k.a. “IguanaLand”).

What’s next? Will a reptile make me write another episode for this blog series? Probably. I’m sure they’ll want you to find out what IguanaFest was like.

Stay tuned for the exciting final episode of A Reptile Made Me Do It!

A Reptile Made Me Do It – Episode 2

Recap: In Episode 1, we learned all about my close encounters of the reptile kind – starting with my childhood pet, Elvis the turtle, and progressing to all of the snakes and lizards (no, that’s not a euphemism) that I encountered while living in Tucson, Arizona.

And now the moment you’ve been waiting for: Episode 2, in which you will learn what a reptile actually made me do.

It was 2018, and I was meeting with my writing critique partners, Elaine A. Powers and Susan Oyler. We meet biweekly to tear apart kindly support each other’s writing efforts. Elaine (author, biologist, and conservationist) had just mentioned something about an iguana.

“Rock iguanas are endangered on the Cayman Islands,” she told us. “They could use our help.”

She was talking about Cyclura nubila caymanensis, a.k.a. the Sister Isles iguana. Its population is dwindling significantly due to human actions like construction, the introduction of invasive animals, and careless driving.

“But what can I do from here?” I wondered. And then it hit me. I could write a song! I’m no Bob Dylan, but I do believe that when the times they are a-changin’, it might be time for a new tune.

A frog is an amphibian, not a reptile.

Perhaps it was my childhood exposure to my brother’s pet reptiles that had something to do with it. Or maybe tiny Elvis (who’d “left the building” several years prior) was calling to me from wherever turtles go when they die. 

Anyway, I got to work.

First, I stole the melody from a song I’d already written.* If you steal from yourself, it isn’t really stealing, is it?

(* Note: THAT song, the one I stole from, is on Facebook. I wrote it for my brother and sister-in-law as a housewarming gift. If you’re on Facebook, you can watch my sister Sue (flute) and I performing it here:

https://www.facebook.com/lori.bonati/videos/10217077113743841

How about that flute accompaniment!)

Next, I added lyrics about an iguana who’s being run off the road by bad drivers.

After recording the new song, “I’m an Iguana,” (with Chuck Phillips on keyboard), Elaine’s illustrator created a video to go with it, and it was uploaded to Elaine’s YouTube channel. You can view it here:

I think it turned out really cute – almost as cute as Elvis the turtle.

And because so many people seemed to like the song, I didn’t just stop there. I used most of the lyrics for “I’m an Iguana” in a picture book, “Iguana in the Road,” illustrated by Diane Ronning and published in 2023. You can learn more about it here:

https://a.co/d/cJt7AiW

So you see, it’s true. When it comes to one of my latest songs, videos, and books, I’m not really responsible. No, a reptile – specifically, Cyclura nubila caymanensis, the Sister Isles iguana – the “Iguana in the Road” – made me do it.

And, in the next exciting episode of “A Reptile Made Me Do It,” you’ll learn about how ANOTHER reptile made me produce a song, a video, and a book. Stay tuned for the “Desert Spiny Lizard Blues.”

A Reptile Made Me Do It – Episode 1

This is the story of how a reptile motivated me to write two songs and four books. Yes, that’s right! A reptile made me do it!

How, you ask, did a critter known for tucking its head into its shell become my muse? Well, it’s a long story, but I might as well pull my head out of my – er – shell, and start telling it.

As a young child, I was never particularly drawn to reptiles. Don’t get me wrong. I thought Elvis, our tiny pet turtle, was very cute, in a turtley kind of way.

See what I mean?

And I liked most other animals. I loved dogs, cats, and birds. I once caught a salamander with my bare hands. I didn’t mind picking up nightcrawlers and threading their wriggling bodies onto fishhooks. But I wasn’t about to pet a lizard or a snake.

No, I wasn’t enraptured by scaly reptiles the way my little brother Rafa was. In fact, he had two pet snakes. He kept them in his bedroom. I never entered his bedroom after that.

Maybe that was why Rafa kept snakes in his bedroom.

Here’s me at age 12, after accidentally entering his room while sleepwalking:

Just kidding. I didn’t really mind the snakes, as long as they stayed in their glass cases, which they did. I figured it was just a phase my brother was going through.

But it wasn’t just a phase. He continued to be fascinated by reptiles, and has cared for many more over the years. It’s true. Just ask his pet newt, Figgy.

Eventually, he – my brother, not Figgy – became a vertebrate zoologist, a scientist who studies animals with backbones.

And speaking of backbones, I’ve managed to grow a pretty strong one when it comes to seeing snakes and lizards. I sort of had to, after moving to Tucson. Snake encounters are pretty common there.

During my first month in Tucson, I saw two rattlesnakes sunning themselves in my apartment complex parking lot. I came upon at least three while hiking, and another while riding my bike. Once, a rattler even reared up and rattled at my hiking partner and me. I learned to stay calm during these experiences, and to give them a wide berth. 

Then there were the lizards. They were everywhere outdoors, including on walking paths built for humans. They were never underfoot, though, and never a threat. I’m sure they were more afraid of me than I was of them.

I knew I was a real Tucsonan when I finally learned to tell some of the different lizard species apart. I even photographed them, when they weren’t moving too fast. In fact, I put some of those photos in my latest book, “I’m a Desert Spiny Lizard.”

But now I’m getting ahead of myself. I need to explain how I went from having a pet turtle named Elvis to writing two songs and four books about reptiles, and I’m not doing a very good job of that.

I think it’s because I like looking up silly pictures of animals and sticking them in my posts.

Right now, I need to go give some love to my pet, a dog named Maya. I’ll be back with Episode 2 soon, in which you will learn how I met a reptile conservationist who, along with Elvis, inspired me to write my first song about a reptile.

Stay tuned!

Bugfest at 10 p.m.

Time for another set of photos inspired by my camera. Yesterday was a slugfest. Today is a bugfest. But don’t worry. They’re only pictures!

First up is a pine white butterfly (Neophasia menapia), as seen at Butchart Gardens in Victoria, British Columbia. This lovely creature, also known as the pine butterfly, feeds on the needles of pine and certain fir trees when it is a caterpillar, and on nectar as an adult. This butterfly is sampling some butterfly milkweed nectar at the moment.

Next, we have another butterfly, photographed in a quiet park in Tucson, Arizona on a bright, sunny day. This one has a long name: Ministryomon janevicroy. It’s perched on an upright prairie coneflower (Ratibida columnifera, or Mexican hat). The Ministryomon janevicroy gets its name from the spouse (Jane Vicroy Scott) of its discoverer, Jeffrey Glassberg. I think this is my favorite butterfly because it’s so powdery white, with thin, orange, wavy lines. Its most unique feature is its OLIVE GREEN EYES. If you zoom in, you can probably see them.

Working our way from pretty to a little bit scary, we have this little bee. Or is it a wasp? I’m not sure. It’s feeding on an Echinacea flower, which is in the daisy family. You can just scroll right past it if you have a fear of bees.

And you might want to scroll past the next one, too. In fact, I recommend it. It’s a horse lubber grasshopper (Taeniopoda eques). Believe it or not, I was able to take this photo up close without getting (too) grossed out. There were four or five of these big lugs, or should I say lubbers, hopping around on my fairy duster plant one day (again, in Tucson), so I did what every dedicated photographer does when they see a huge, disgusting insect: grab their camera and snap away. Then they yell “Ewww” and run screaming into the house. At least that’s what I did.

I enjoy taking pictures of butterflies and then identifying them via Google. It’s not that hard. You just have to be persistent. It’s not like identifying birds, which are hard to photograph in the first place, and then have so many variations within species. At least that’s been my experience.

On the other hand, I’m not wild about staring at pictures of insects for very long, but that’s just me.

The above pictures were taken some years back. Now, with my newer camera and a bit more free time, I’m hoping to capture better butterfly pictures in the future (and probably no more insects, if I can help it, except maybe a dragonfly … or a caterpillar … but no more horse lubbers, I promise!). All of that will have to wait, though. It’s currently 33 degrees out where I live now, and snow is in the forecast.

I think I’ll stick to indoor photography for the next three or four months. Then maybe I’ll start bugging people with pictures of bugs again.

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This is post #17 of the month-long challenge known as #NaBloPoMo or #NanoPoblano. To follow my blog, please click below where it says “Follow loristory.”

And, to read more of the NanoPoblano posts written by the supportive blogging group “Cheer Peppers,” click the image below.

Featured image by ArtsyBee @ pixabay.com

Slugfest at Midnight

As midnight approaches on the 16th day of National Blog Posting Month, I find I’m at a loss for words. I’m likely to do something wild and unpredictable.

Well, this blog is supposed to be inspired by my camera, and I do have a photo or two in my collection. Let’s see what I can come up with.

(Pause while I pull up my photo app …)

Ahh. Okay. Fortunately, I’ve found something: a portrait in vibrant purples and golds. It shimmers. It moves. It practically jumps off the page! The model reminds me of a graceful Flamenco dancer. Her dress is as soft as a petal.

Unfortunately for you, the model is a slug. A literal slug.

Introducing: Señorita Iris Maria Ariana Slug! (I.M.A. Slug, for short)!

I told you I was likely to do something wild and unpredictable. And I did!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

This is post #16 of the month-long challenge known as #NaBloPoMo or #NanoPoblano. To follow my blog, please click below where it says “Follow loristory.”

And, to read more of the NanoPoblano posts written by the supportive blogging group “Cheer Peppers,” click the image below.

Cover photo (clock) by JESHOOTS-com @ pixabay.com

The Magic of Light

In 1666, while young Isaac Newton was quarantined in a dark bedroom to avoid catching the plague, he noticed a tiny beam of light pouring through a hole in his window. Using a glass prism, he bent the light to make a rainbow of red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and indigo. (Not violet, but that’s coming. For now, it’s just ROYGBI.)

Next, he reunited the ribbons of light using a second prism, turning them a solid white again. This was how he proved that light, which we perceive as white, is actually made up of several colors.

Newton then drew a chart of the six rainbow colors, adding a seventh one (you guessed, it, violet) by combining the first (red) with the sixth (indigo) in order to connect the arc together in a continuous circle.

And finally, he labeled his seven-color wheel with the letters A through G. Why did he choose these letters? He wanted them to match the seven notes in the western musical scale. I think he felt a connection between colors and music … as many people do. The connection is kind of magical (one could even say it’s a Rainbow Connection, especially if one were Kermit the Frog).

Here’s Newton’s illustration of the Color Wheel. Note that the sections are unevenly spaced, corresponding to the way notes on the musical scale are arranged (full steps after A, C, D, F, and G, but only half-steps after B and E).

Speaking of colors, here are some colorful autumn scenes, taken just last month. Click each one for a bigger burst of color.

Since Newton’s birthday is December 25, I’m going to go out on a limb (an apple tree limb, of course), and guess that his favorite colors were red and green. Mine are yellow and indigo. What are your favorite colors?

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This is post #7 of the month-long challenge known as #NaBloPoMo or #NanoPoblano. To follow my blog, please click below where it says “Follow loristory.”

And, to read more of the NanoPoblano posts written by the supportive blogging group “Cheer Peppers,” click the image below.