The dark clouds slowly rolled in bringing thunder with them. I sat as still as I could, I am able to wait hours but I can't sit still, I constantly shift and fidget. The Turtle was timid. He would ease his head out and look around for a minute or two before retreating back inside his shell. In this shot he is looking directly at me, so I froze, which of course meant that every mosquito and gnat in Arkansas converged on my face. He retreated. Lightning flashed and a few large drops of rain fell. I wanted to get a shot of him with his legs out, feet on the ground and head in it's full extended position, just before he walked off. The Turtle had other ideas, Turtle ideas. The lightning was now too close and as stubborn as I am I had to admit defeat and pack it in. I moved the Turtle to higher ground, about twenty feet away. I packed up my camera, strobe and soft box and within a few minutes the deluge began. I checked on the Turtle an hour or so after the rain started and he had burrowed his way under fallen pine needles and other assorted forest detritus, no doubt having a Turtle dream, smug with the satisfaction of being the day's most stubborn.

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© Rex Lisman

Ouachita mountains Arkansas.

Some Tarantulas have no respect for age! As I walked up to this Tarantula, that was minding it's Tarantula business in the middle of the "Million Dollar highway", it reared up, like an eight legged Trigger, in a valiant attempt to scare me away. I fear no Tarantula, well maybe a little but not enough to shriek and run away. I lay on the ground stomach first so I could get a spiders eye shot of this little beauty. As soon as I was all the way down she dropped all eight legs to the ground and was off, like Trigger toward the sunset. I groaned and slowly got back to my feet, I'm almost to old for this stuff. Luckily she stopped at the edge of the road, laughing her little Tarantula laugh no doubt. I was able to get this one shot before she scurried into the underbrush.

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© Rex Lisman

Chapter 1.
Less than thirty feet into the forest after leaving the edge of the road and I already have four ticks crawling up my pants legs. This despite having doused myself from the knees down, including my boots, with 40% Deet insect repellant. I send the little bastards, one by one, on a way one trip through the air with a flick of my finger. I know I should be more enlightened but I can't help but imagine what it would be like if all the ticks in the world disappeared. I think about it and realize that it just might lead to some sort of ecological disaster and I decide I like them after all. I move on. I follow the small rocky stream upstream sticking to the rocks as much as possible. I'm scouting for new spots to photograph after the next heavy rain. The stream flows down through a steep gorge, or at least what passes for a gorge in the Ouachita mountains in Arkansas. About three quarters of the way up stream I slip on wet and slick rock and catch myself in a hands and knees position about a foot short of a full on faceplate on the edge of a large rock. I manage to jam my left thumb. The gorge gets more and more narrow as I make my way up stream. I find myself at a vee shaped intersection where two smaller and steeper streams meet to create the one I have been following. I follow the one to the right and near the beginning of the flow of water I find what will be a nice ten foot or so waterfall that will flow over a jumble of very large boulders after the next heavy rain. I mark the spot on my GPS, I will be back.

Chapter 2.
I leave the forest and step out on to the gravel road named Million Dollar Highway. I send three more ticks on a flight as far away from me as I can manage to send them. I load my backpack in my car and head down the road. It is early evening, a good time to road cruise for snakes. I drive along slower than I usually drive and after a few minutes I spot a snake stretched out in the center of the gravel road. I stop and get my camera and my bean bag I use for a camera support and approach the snake. It is a Western Cottonmouth, just as I thought when I first saw it. I spend about a half hour crawling around in the dirt and gravel photographing it. During the entire time, and including when I used my snake hook to move him off of the road just before I left, he never once struck at me. This has been my experience over the last eleven years when encountering Western Cottonmouths, well that and sometimes they flee as soon as I approach.

I laugh every time I hear or read one of those preposterous stories about the Cottonmouth that chased some poor shmuck through the woods, or crawled in to someone's boat with ill intent. I once heard a story about a man, if you can call him that, who was chased all the way to his truck and once safely in his truck and driving away the Cottonmouth chased his vehicle and continuously struck at his tires until he gained enough speed to leave the snake behind. I should add that one could easily walk at a normal pace and leave a Cottonmouth behind. I think about those stories and more every time I am photographing a Cottonmouth at the distance you see in the picture above.

Chapter3.

Later that night, while sitting at my computer working on the photographs from the day, I suddenly get dizzy. The dizziness progresses to the point that the room seems to spin. This isn't the first time I've experienced this but it is the worst and by far the longest ( it has been going on for twenty four hours as I write this, though it's not as bad as last night). I stop processing my pictures and decide to sleep. After tossing and turning I discover that if I lay on my side just so, the dizziness subsides enough I can fall asleep. As soon as I change positions though I am awakened by the spinning room. After a fitful night of sleep I decide to go see a Doctor. After consulting with him it seems that I most likely have Vertigo. Although he thinks it could be fluid build up in my ears due to allergies, so we are treating that first to see what happens. If it persists or when it comes back he told me we could try a drug that is used to restore balance. The inner ear is a part of the anatomy that I never think of but right now it occupies my thoughts almost entirely. I would not be able to crawl around in the gravel and dirt photographing snakes while experiencing Vertigo, well not very successfully at any rate. Plus I would look like a drunken nut instead of a sober nut.

Chapter 4.

In 1965 when I was eight I watched the Disney film Bambi. In one scene, if I am remembering correctly, a butterfly lands on Bambi's tail. I believed the intent of that scene was to illustrate the harmony of nature. Later in life I came to believe that scene was actually meant to illustrate the  fleeting moment of peace right before nature became red of tooth and claw and is more ominous than knowing that his mother was killed by hunters (and of course worrying that Bambi would be next).

I wonder, is it better to be the butterfly or better to be the Cottonmouth?

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© Rex Lisman

Sweat clung to me like a frightened Spider Monkey

Small cascades and waterfalls. Ouachita mountains, Ouachita national forest, Arkansas.

The humidity was ridiculous. My lens and polarizer filter fogged mid way during shooting. My glasses were constantly fogged making seeing a challenge. Sweat had no where to go so it clung to me like a frightened Spider monkey. 

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© Rex Lisman

Ola Arkansas.

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© Rex Lisman

Rural store. Arkansas.

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© Rex Lisman

You would be a bit grumpy too if you were being harassed by a giant shiny- eyed Cyclops.

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© Rex Lisman