I first saw this bird species in 2015 at St. Mark’s National Wildlife Refuge in Florida’s panhandle, where my attention was more on the alligators. I saw this one on our recent trip through Florida.
They’re magnificent — the tricolor herons, I mean, not the alligators — and like most herons they’re prone to long periods of little movement punctuated by flashes of blinding speed.
This was the bridge I wanted to see, but here’s the thing. Where do you stand to photograph a bridge that’s seven miles long?
I decided to stand at the end of the pedestrian pier that runs parallel to The Bridge for 1.5 miles. That let me get a bit of the old bridge, a few powerlines, and (in the hazy distance) the arch where The Bridge rises to allow the passage of large ships.
I suspect a better answer is not to stand at all, but, rather, to sit. In a helicopter.
I first saw the Talmadge Memorial Bridge in January 2017 as we overnighted in Savannah on our way from Myrtle Beach to Phoenix. It’s a cable-stayed bridge with two sets of cables: impressive. But I was too far down river to get a good shot.
Jan 2015
So when I had a chance for a re-attack on our way back to Myrtle Beach from our Florida trip this January, I grabbed it. As we tried to find a place for me to stand that didn’t include power lines, razor wire, port facilities, or ugly, abandoned light industrial facilities in the view, we met a friendly and helpful Port Authority official and explored some of the less-touristy corners of Savannah.
The result? Some shots I like better than the one from three years ago, and the conviction that cities miss a tourist opportunity when they have a signature bridge and don’t develop their waterfront to facilitate photographs of it. Or when they call for designs but don’t include a pedestrian option, as the Brooklyn Bridge did so wondrously.
View from roadbed level, through the windshield
View from River Street, near Port Authority facilities
View from River Street, with pier from original bridge.
View from Hutchinson Island
Look what I found in my rented kitchen. How can I not smile back?
Oh, to be so happy in your work!
On a tour of Key West I heard that there are 42 bridges in the Florida Keys, and the NY Times agrees.
This is one of them. If it has a name, I don’t know it.
I’ve written a few times about abortion. Each time I hesitated, concerned about provoking a backlash, since anger has become the default for handling policy disagreements in this brave new wired world. And abortion is the quintessentially emotional and contentious issue, on which even people of goodwill and some thoughtfulness can and do disagree vehemently.
But because my reach is so small, and because the folks who like the work I do on this blog are not typically given to vitriol, there’s never been a problem.
But now I have a problem. I’m as angry as I remember being about something the Canadian Federal Government is doing, and it relates to abortion. Continue reading
On our trip to the Dry Tortugas, I looked for birds, of course — and did see some, but at quite a distance — so these little fellows had to take up the slack. They were a tad shy, scuttling along until I bent over to get a closer shot, and then drawing back into their shells.
There’s no collecting in national parks, so the beach on Garden Key is littered with shells. But apparently there’s no prohibition against moving shells around, as the first two photos show.
I’ve started experimenting with low-light photography, at least where there are no options. I now routinely carry a tiny tripod, which made these interior shots possible. Each step in that circular staircase is made of a single piece of stone.
Posted: 2025 Jun 13
Thanks to John Whitman for this slightly dismayed face from downtown Ottawa.
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