Disbelief

Sunset, a photo by meagan.porter on Flickr.

When the news of what happened to the geese hit me tonight, I didn’t feel it at first. This was the end, the conclusion to a long-expected outcome. Like the bereaved planning a funeral, I methodically set about taking the next steps: writing a statement and passing it along to the people who needed to know, our supporters and the media. I had a focus, at least for a little while.

I have always been the kind of person who does not dwell on what is happening now but rather is always asking what is next. This fight has been no different. We’re at point A -- what’s point B? Where do we go from here? What is the next step? What do we do now? I have always been a person of action, which I think is why this stillness feels so strange to me; now that everyone has been notified, the information is starting to percolate out, I am sitting alone in my empty apartment thinking, how could this have happened?

As children, we’re taught that we can do anything, at least I was. I was told that I could achieve anything I set my mind to, and for the most part, I have with few exceptions. Bit by bit, things unravel, and those “truths” of childhood resonate in my mind: You can do anything you set your mind to. Right will always win. Your representatives will listen to you. Adulthood complicates things that shouldn’t be complicated, clouds things that should be clear. Can I, really? Will they, really?

There were many times in this fight that I threw my hands up and said, I don’t have time for this. I don’t want to deal with this. Why is this happening again? I don’t want to do this. A friend of mine finally asked me, “Then why are you doing it?”

I have to. And if not now, when? This isn’t something that can be added to a to-do list. No one wakes up in the morning and thinks to themselves, maybe now I’ll work on that goose problem. It is never going to be convenient to stand up for what’s right. And if I don’t, who will?

The city of Madison has fufilled its end of the promise to use “any means necessary -- including killing” to curb its goose problem. Two days ago, hundreds of geese were rounded up and executed. Sitting here tonight in stunned silence, I may not know what the next step will be. But I know without a shadow of a doubt that this is far from over.

The photo above was taken last year at Warner Park with one of the Indy cameras, which is why the shot came out so grainy. It was the end of April, and at the time we were all talking about the Warner Park flock's proximity to the airport. I used a telephoto to snap a few photos of the birds just as the sun was setting.

Talking it Over

Talking it Over, a photo by meagan.porter on Flickr.

These ducks were seriously hesitant about whether or not to jump in Monona Bay. John and I walked through Brittingham Park this evening on our way to dinner on Park Street. Even though we've lived in this neighborhood for nearly a year, we hadn't yet visited the beautiful park only a block from our house. It was cool and breezy, more April weather than June, a far cry from the over 90 degrees it was yesterday. We walked along the bike path and came across this rickety dock holding its own against the choppy waves. I think there were six ducks relaxing on it when we walked up; two jumped in right away and four seriously thought it over before plunging into the cold water.

I love the photo above because it looks like the duck all the way on the left is trying to convince the other three, "Hey guys, come on. It's not going to be that bad." And the Hipstamatic makes everything look epic.

Waiting for Dinner

Treefrog Bokeh, a photo by meagan.porter on Flickr.

Near dusk last night at my parents' house, the pizza delivery guy pointed out this treefrog perched on their house number under their front door light, waiting for the bugs to come. He didn't act particularly thrilled to have a camera shoved in his face, but he put up with it. It was probably a long climb up the siding on those tiny pads in hungry anticipation of the dinner soon to flock to him.

When I was a kid, we used to catch dozens of these things. Tiny fingernail-sized toads and slimy bullfrogs were common, but treefrogs were the money. The pet shop that used to be on Main Street paid two dollars each for them, no lie. My neighbors and I scoured the backyard, the swamp and woods . If we were lucky enough to spot them, the challenge then was in catching them; they were fast, just in sheer velocity and jumping power. We mere human children scrambled after them, disappointed every time one disappeared into the tall brush.

After so many months of cold, it's finally summer in Wisconsin.  :)

Curve

Curve, a photo by meagan.porter on Flickr.

Taken on Hwy K in Reedsburg, Wisconsin, May 2011.

I went out a few weeks ago to take pictures of the ongoing construction work on the North Side sewer in Reedsburg. They never made it in the Indy, but I liked the results.

I parked on the corner of 19th Street and K in Reedsburg and walked down K. I realized later that I could have parked much closer and spared myself much of that painful high-heeled walked up and down the highway, but I would have missed some fantastic shots. I loved seeing all of those huge sewer pieces up close, particularly the manhole covers. I felt like a little kid, fascinated by the big machines displacing so, so much earth.

I have never been keen on getting to close to anything while taking pictures for the Indy. I try to reassure myself, saying that my photos come out more from the perspective of a casual observer than an insider, but mostly, I'm just scared. As I took pictures of the worksite from across the street, I thought about getting closer. Images of my untimely death flashed across my brain, "Search called off for reporter who fell into center of Earth." I decided I was just fine across the street, thank you.

Despite my reluctance to get too close, I have always appreciated the access my job gives me. I can only name a handful of times in the last three years that I've been hassled while taking pictures, and usually no one questions me. I had that same feeling on my excursion this day, sauntering through barricades that said, "Roads Closed" thinking, yes, I am supposed to be here.

Life's a Beach

Life's a Beach, a photo by meagan.porter on Flickr.

Taken in Reedsburg, Wisconsin. View of the City Shop off South Webb Avenue. Taken March 2011.

I love the desolation in this photo, the perfect capture of Wisconsin winter. The sky is a dull light blue, trees black, snow piles a mix of grey and cold white. Even the weeds and beach ball are dull colors. 


I'm always attracted to power lines for some reason. Maybe its' the song "Engine Driver" by the Decemberists - "I'm a county lineman/on the high line, on the high line/So will be my grandson/There are power lines in our blood lines." I like the straight lines, extending up into the sky and off into the distance, as far as you can see. I like the idea of length and connectivity, I like how they stand out in flat lands when it seems like the road is the only civilization for miles. Somewhere, somebody is going to be connected to someone else, and to someone else, and to the power source.


The water in the photo is overflow from the Baraboo River, flooding the low spots with the rain and melting of spring, It's a spot that floods regularly.


The ball? Not sure where that came from.

Downtown Dells

Downtown Dells, a photo by meagan.porter on Flickr.

Taken in Wisconsin Dells, Wisconsin, 2010.

I have always been fascinated with the view from the lookout point on the Wisconsin River, just off the strip in the Wisconsin Dells. It's a Riverwalk the city obviously spent a lot of money to build. It runs between the Wisconsin River and a public parking lot.

I think that few people appreciate the significance of the view from that point. From one single point, you see so many facets of the Dells' past, present and future. You see the river itself, the foundation of the entire Dells itself, the natural area and what made it so appealing to early settlers. Then you see the railroad bridge and beyond that, the dam, the modern technologies of the 1800s that allowed the Dells to grow and flourish. They brought industry, people, electricity to the Dells. To the lower left you can see the Dells' boat docks where scenery tour ships launch to bring people closer to the natural beauty of the Wisconsin Dells. Then from the same point you can see rollercoasters jutting out over the treeline, the symbol of the Dells in the last 30 years and the prosperity that has come from them. If you turn slightly to the left, you can see the downtown strip lined with tacky souvenir shops and tourist traps, what John Steinbeck called "the litter of our times."

And the future? Who knows.

The above photo was shot directly into the setting sun to maximize the silhouette of the "Riverwalk" sign.

Aggressive Cranes

Taken at the National Zoo in Washington DC, October 2010.

... because the passive-aggressive cranes in the adjacent enclosure just weren't as interesting.

I thought this sign was funny, I'm not really sure why. I tried to capture the bird and the sign in a sinister, kind of film noir way.

Lucky Shot

Taken in the courtyard of Tobacco Row, Madison.

I always have my camera with me, and walking through the gorgeously groomed courtyard of our apartment building is never an exception. I had been eying the bright purple and contrasting orange on these flowers for quite some time, as well as the yellow and black bumble bees that frequent them. But I hadn't taken a photo of them yet for lack of ideas on how to make them interesting. After all, macros shots of flowers are like shooting fish in a barrel. It's not hard to make them look good. Making them look interesting is the challenge.

The above photo was a complete lucky accident. I spotted this monarch walking home one day and literally only had one shot before it fluttered away. I was only able to capture one image but boy did it turn out well.

Attempted Obligatory Fall Colors Photo

Rock Springs, Wisconsin.

This area of Wisconsin is gorgeous this time of year. The fall colors on the Baraboo Bluffs are breathtaking, and yet I haven't found a good way to put them in a photo. I'm not entirely happy with the photo above; it just happens to be the best one I took today.

I can usually see photos in my head - when I see something I want to shoot, it kind of clicks in my head, like a mental image of what a photo would look like or how I could do it. The fall colors simply have not been that way. They look gorgeous in person, but when I was picturing a photo in my head, I couldn't think of a way to capture that. It wasn't so much trying to do it justice but just trying to make it look interesting, something other than a muddle of colors.

I tried. :)  Maybe I'll have better luck next year, or at least be able to figure something out by then.

Monona Bay photoshoot

Taken today at the Monona Bay railroad bridge, Madison, Wisconsin.

This location is just a block from where we live in Madison. I noticed it the other day driving along North Shore... I thought it was neat how the railroad tracks are so straight and the telephone poles are so crooked. The black and white just made this picture in my opinion.

There are tons of points of inspiration in our neighborhood. I'm just finding that I need to keep my eyes open. I don't need to travel to exotic locations to make great photographs. Madison is enough. :) That's something I've always said about writing as well: Writers don't have amazing, life-changing, extraordinary experiences. They take the ordinary and make it extraordinary. I'm finding that my favorite kinds of photographs do the same thing.

More pictures from this outing after the jump.

One of These Things...

is not like the other one. My hamster, Pancakes, playing possum in my parents' backyard.

Life is simply not complete without a hamster. Moose is rolling around the apartment right now in his ball, three cats trailing close behind. They have their own agendas, waking up late in the night to run in their wheels toward an unknown destination, only to fall asleep for 18 more hours, wake up and do it all over again. They eat, sleep, and exercise, and that's about it. Moose also has an impressive nest where he hoards all manner of things. And both he and Pancakes are extremely tame. Moose is even trained so that I can hand feed him treats. What a life, right?

Pancakes was extremely photogenic, almost posing for photos as in the picture above taken during one of his backyard adventures. Moose has never been outside, and he has all black fur, making it harder to get a good shot. One of these days.  :)

Seussian

Taken at the Allen Centennial Gardens, University of Wisconsin-Madison campus, May 2010. I don't know what kind of flower it is, but it reminds me of Dr. Seuss.

I went to a local camera store today. Those places always make me so nervous because even though I've been taking Indy pics for over two years now and I enjoy what I'm doing, I have no clue really what I'm doing, technically speaking, and I feel like everyone else is so much smarter than me at it. I can never get over that inferiority complex with anything I do - writing, taking pictures, selling cat food. But I digress.

Anyway, I was shopping around for a fitted case to put around my camera so I could toss it into my purse and not worry about my purse destroying it (happens more often than you'd think). The case I have is nice but cumbersome - too many straps and too bulky, too many pockets for things to fall out of. A super nice and knowledgeable guy helped me pick one out but when I handed my camera to him (he's only the fourth person I've let hold it), he pointed out that it was covered in makeup and dirt (and probably tears - my right eye always waters when I take pictures). Filthy. I've only had it since the end of May, but it's something I use for work a lot, so it goes everywhere with me. I was pretty embarrassed, but he was nice enough to clean it for me and recommend some cleaning things I should be doing.

I probably gave the poor guy a heart attack, talking about how I just want to throw my expensive camera into my purse, how I got foundation all over the LED screen. I promise I'll take better care of my baby in the future. :)

Taking Off

Taken at Plenke's Pond, Reedsburg, Wisconsin. Published in the Reedsburg Independent.

I caught these cranes by chance, although they had been frequenting the Reedsburg area for awhile. I saw them by Plenke's as I was driving back to the office, and I immediately pulled over, switched to the telephoto lens, slid down an hill, and snapped a few nice shots before they took off. Although I think cranes are pretty ugly creatures, this shot of the whole wingspan turned out nice.

MadCats

Taken behind MadCat this afternoon on my lunchbreak.

I spent my lunchbreak this afternoon lying on the bit of grass behind MadCat, munching on tortilla chips while Lucy munched on the grass. Morty headed out too and rolled his little heart out on his favorite manhole a safe distance from us.

The store cats have the run of the place, doors open, able to come and go as they please. But they really only want to go outside if someone is out there with them. Lucy stuck close by me during the entire half hour, and it was hard to snap her gorgeous photo while she kept nudging me for pets and attention.

And it was a nice September day, warm and humid but not uncomfortable, a nice breeze. I like sitting on the landing behind MadCat - it's like a little peaceful greenspace in the middle of parking lots and one of the busier areas of Madison. I'm not a nature person in the least - nature annoys me - but I like to find and appreciate secret urban oases.

Pancakes' Story

Pancakes, summer 2008.

Pancakes was the hamster I was never supposed to have, contraband in my apartment my senior year. Amelia and I were dead set on getting him. We visited two pet stores before finding him. There he was, slightly sleepy in the middle of the day. The clerk didn't want to take him out, afraid that he would bite me. When I first held that little golden hamster, I think Amelia and I both knew he was the one. His right ear was ripped in half, the casualty of a fight with a brother or sister, the clerk said. That rip was the reason we immediately decided to take him home; we agreed that he was a tough hamster "from the wrong side of the tracks" and needed someone to love him and take care of him. Ten dollars and one pretty pink princess castle later - it wasn't until much later that we realized he was a boy - and Pancakes was on his way home with us.

I didn't know anything about hamsters when I brought him home. I didn't even know they were nocturnal. Pancakes bit me for the first and only time when I took him out of the box the pet store gave me. After we set up his princess castle and it was about time for me to go to sleep, I eyed him suspiciously, wondering if I had made yet another impulsive decision, wondering if he was going to become a chore, wondering if he was going to be a mean hamster forever. It turns out that I was all wrong.

Pancakes was only with me for just over a year and a half, but he meant so much to me and everyone he met. My roommates and I loved playing with him late at night, chasing him around the coffee table in the living room, sitting on Amelia's bed passing him back and forth, feeding him treats and spoiling him like crazy. He graduated eventually from his princess castle to the OVO Suite that kind of looks like a space station. His favorite thing was to run in his wheel; Pancakes' normal routine was to wake up very late, check out the food and treats situation, spend about an hour taking a very complicated hamster bath, and spend the next seven or so hours running like mad in his wheel. We used to say that Pancakes was always on a mission - to where, we didn't know, but he always seemed determined to get there.

I think the best time of Pancakes' life was in that apartment. He knew the layout and used to wing around the corners like a Nascar driver or something, crashing into our kitchen cabinets, stopping in front of JoAnna's door to take a hamster bath. I have so many pictures of him with Amelia, with Sarah, with Bryan. I think the picture with Bryan is one of my favorites because Bryan is so big and Pancakes is so little, and Bryan is laughing and looks so joyful. Pancakes definitely brought joy to everyone he met.

Pancakes was the most mild-mannered hamster I or any one else had ever met. He didn’t mind being held, petted, or picked up at all. He never bit anyone and was never mean. Pancakes was curious about the world around him, and above all, he was very very smart.

Out of everyone, he of course meant the most to me. He was the first real pet that I had, that was completely mine, that depended solely on me to take care of him and make sure that he was safe and had everything he needed. He helped me through some really hard times my senior year; just being able to pet him and focus on him helped. I set up Pancakes' "Tiki Vacation Home" on my desk so he would have somewhere to play late at night while I did homework. It consisted of a coconut hut, a plastic palm tree, a paper drink umbrella, and a background made of pictures cut from travel magazines.

Pancakes was spoiled so much throughout his lifetime, getting presents and treats from all of my friends and even my parents and brother. I fed him fresh fruits and veggies once in while; his favorite was definitely the alfalfa sprouts Amelia used to buy to put in sandwiches. He’d sit there and gobble them up like spaghetti. I also used to feed him walnuts; I wanted all those Omega-3s to make him smarter and his coat shinier, which I think they did.

When I graduated, we moved to my parents’ house in Reedsburg, and Pancakes had many strange and new experiences. For the first time, he lived in a house that had other animals (birds and a dog) that I’m sure he could constantly hear and smell. He got ants in his house for the first (and only) time. And Pancakes also had his first taste of the outside world. I don’t think he liked it very much but the photos I was able to take of him in the grass are my favorites and will be some of my best memories of him.

Pancakes and I moved last August to an apartment of our very own which I shared with a roommate. By this time, he was sleeping more and getting up later, so he didn’t really get a chance to explore this one as much as he did the last one. We also got a kitty, Fiona, who was curious about his every move and didn’t really understand that he was too small to play. She’d occasionally bat his ball and every time the wheel squeaked or the cage opened, she was right there. Fiona couldn’t reach the hamster cage but she certainly spent a lot of her time staring at it.

Pancakes passed away in May of 2008, but I still think of him often. Although he only lived for a short while, he will have a place in my heart forever.  The pictures I took of him the summer before he passed away were the first time I ever really photographed a pet or animal in an artistic way, and looking back now, that experience was a real game changer for me - the idea that I could capture moments and maybe be good at it too.

Lucy MadCat

One of my favorite subjects, Lucy MadCat, resident cat at MadCat Pet Supplies on Mineral Point Road.

I've been closing the store on weekends, and Lucy always wants to follow me out the back to munch grass for a few minutes. With the great sunset lighting and the crazed look in her eyes, I'm usually more than happy to oblige, as long as she doesn't mind modeling while we spend quality time together.

Forevertron Warrior

One of the metal sculptures surrounding Dr. Evermor's Forevertron in Sauk City, Wisconsin.

Site of the largest scrap metal sculpture in the world (made by a single person), the Forevertron and its surrounding sculptures are like a strange, secret metal garden in an otherwise ordinary Driftless Region landscape. Nestled in the rolling, glacial Baraboo bluffs, the Art Park itself is hidden from the road behind overgrown brambles and tall-ish trees. If you weren't looking closely, you'd never this amazing feat of man was there.

Stay tuned for more photos of Dr. Evermor's. I just picked up an autographed copy of this book and I'm mildly obsessed.

Hi. I'm Meagan. I take pictures.

Title: Obscured by Sign.

Observatory Drive in Madtown.

One of my favorite drives and walks in Madison, Observatory Drive runs along Lake Mendota on the University of Wisconsin Campus. This windy, narrow road has been under construction for the last year-ish, so to get here from the campus side, we hiked up a steep, wooded hill and trespassed through some roadwork on a Sunday afternoon.

Stay tuned for more of my photos as I practice, build my portfolio, and jump into that whole Flickr thing. :)