Words matter. Learning to say hello in the native language of a country that you visit matters. A matter of connection, of civility, of grace. Sometimes the word environment suffers from misuse, and may not be the best word of hello among scientists and people of faith. I remember an older Russian fellow and his translator who I once traveled with in Kamchatka. We were part of the first western expedition allowed into this formerly restricted land. After lunch one day, we were sitting on the hot stones of a remote riverbed, amidst resting monarch butterflies. We got into one of those conversations about language that happens when alert translators are around. Together, the Russian and his translator remarked that the word environment is very different from the world wilderness, because environment refers exclusively to what surrounds humanity (environs). Wilderness is more boundless, untied to us. This difference in meaning exposes how environment measures the world on the basis of people. As Carl eloquently expands upon in the video clip below, creation has bigness and mystery. Perhaps creation captures more of the world beyond man’s measure? Perhaps it is a graceful way of saying hello amidst fellow travelers?

Working out how to capture the wonder of dragonflies. This still was pulled from yesterday’s work at the pond outside our barn studio.

It is amusing that so many natural history sequences in series like PLANET EARTH or even our own SUNRISE EARTH focus on “who eats who,” but the fact of the matter is that this sensibility is central.

Lately, in preparation for a behavioral sequence we hope to record, I have been studying the behavior of dragonflies (fig. 1 in our production logo). Our local dragonfly expert is Bob Grobe, who was generous enough to come over a few weeks back and share some of what he knows. The other night was a particularly rich one for dragonflies. The light was fading. I looked up and saw dozens on the patrol, rapidly seeking -then catching- mosquitoes. So many above that I could hear a faint roar, like a miniature air force. Before and after the use of DDT, dragonflies have long had the assignment of pest control. One of the species many tasks in its supposed 300 million year existence. I wonder what dragonflies did when they were the size of great black-backed gulls? Fossil records indicate that one had a 2.5 foot wide wingspan. That’s scary. Something fierce is within these amazing creatures.

As a visual person, I’m also astounded at the complexity and omniscience of their eyes. For starters, they see 360 degrees. 30,000 individual lens, all sending light information to the brain about the world around it. All around it. Is everything in focus? I wonder. And imagine the complexity of those brains, to integrate and process all that data… and then move from information to task.

My reading also reveals a curious story -source uncertain- that dragonflies were once believed to deter children from spending time outdoors. Apparently, they sewed shut the eyelids of the bold child who dared to sleep out under the stars.

My day today began with a review of last night’s emails, all received automatically from various parts of the world while I slept. The list below was within one email that caught my attention. The missive contained not much more than this list, a list of shots sent out to production companies like mine that specialize in nature imagery. Someone wants and values these moments of recorded reality to the tune of hundreds and even thousands of dollars. Do we please have such shots? I look over the list and wonder what the range of stories must be to generate such a list? Does the list reflect human proximity and understanding of nature? Or a sort of freakish divorce?

Gribbles (in action)
Brown bear giving birth
Parrot dancing to music
Porcupine in water
Giraffe giving birth
Fainting goats
Rats laughing (being tickled)

We shot a sequence with people in a field on a foggy day. Our production plan? That these visuals will work into musical sequences drawing on the rich tradition of a group chorale format from the 1800’s, called the Shaped Note. Tim Eriksen has performed and recorded with a few Shaped Note groups; most recently one in Amherst, Massachusetts. The singular focusing power of the breath and tone in concert with others, which is a basis for this tradition, has multiple expressions in many cultures around the world.

But here in Maine, this week, fog has three levels of engagement. Thin wispy fog is called “fog.” As it thickens a little, it is called “thick-o-fog.” When it really shuts down such that you cannot see the bow of the lobster boat before you, it becomes “dungeon thick.”