SJB Imagery - Photographer & Writer

Winter's Throes

2011-02-23T11:36:00.001-05:00

The landscape laden in a white blanket whispers, and at times, shrieks. Beckoning through the window panes and faintly wisping the curtains to and fro, winter's throes do not cease. In those months of short, dark days resisting the urge to crawl deeper under the warmth of a Granny-made quilt seems daunting. Yet, stopping the world and slumbering through winter's darkness is not an option.

Rather, with unyielding strength beating winter's grasp becomes a new challenge. A challenge fortified by warmth. A warmth that only the seldom seen sun brings. Dawn...In the early hours of daybreak and after a moment of peering to the east and knowing that today the sun's bright rays will shine and an ocean blue sky will warm a frozen mind, waking seems easier. Those minutes pass quickly and the vibrancy of a Kodak moment brings hope, optimism, and warmth.

Those long winter months all of sudden seem strangely beautiful. All due to the rays of light beaming upon the frozen Earth. It is those mornings that beckon me out of a dreary hibernation. With energy mustered from a place that's been shut down for months, finally, a day to love. Venturing out into sub-zero temperatures to absorb the healing rays of the sun, I know spring - although not here tomorrow - soon will arrive.

But today, with a mighty frost clinging to all living things and the silence of a stunning sunrise, the 3 degree temperature means nothing. Sparkling frost glistens from the eastward beams reflections and all of a sudden winter is beautiful. While sitting feeling the minutes pass as the sun draws further up into the sky and listening to the eerie silence of frost settling, those dark days are forgotten. And, a new day begins...

The video below contains images taken this morning... (except the fawn pictures... those were from a few days ago. :)

Create your own video slideshow at animoto.com.

Down.

2010-10-18T23:02:00.001-04:00

Once in a while, real life dominates and all "things" dreamy do just that - become just a dream. Just as the moon waxes and wains so does the persistence of a world of have-to's. Finally after a missed summer, I'm finding some free time and starting to post more photos... slowly, but surely I'm getting back into the "game."

The reality of working full-time, mom, wife, teacher, and running a start-up is daunting. And, somewhat absurd. I'm not giving up, rather rebranding and refocusing.

One day this dream will be reality. To view some recent wildlife and people pics visit me at www.sjbimagery.com or search for Stephanie J. Brown Imagery on Facebook.

Enjoy... Stephanie J. Brown

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.2

Branding... Not cowhides though...

2009-09-13T23:16:00.002-04:00

So, I've moved my previous blog and created a new blog to match my photography website. I'm on my way to creating my brand and my message: Capturing emotion through imagery and words... You'll find at my website, nature and wildlife photography, as well as galleries dedicated to children portraiture, weddings, engagements, babies, and much more. With three children, I've learned saying, "smile" is a beacon for squinty eyes and awkard smiles.

I shoot to capture emotion, to capture a moment only you will remember. I'm passionate about what I do and love to share my work with others. With a master's degree in creative writing from Northern Michigan University, I hold a particular joy in telling stories. Those stories start with images. This blog will host random stories about those I meet, about my passion for hunting, and the joys of being a mom, wife, awful homemaker, and perpetual procastrinator. Follow, enjoy, and comment!

It's Never Too Early

2009-06-07T21:32:00.000-04:00

At three years old, she has the determination. Letting kids shoot is keeping the tradition alive.

What Do You Mean We Don’t Have A Babysitter?

2009-06-07T11:46:00.000-04:00

Written Nov. 15, 2008 in my hunting shack...

Finally, November 15...It’s not only the thrill of possibly bagging a trophy whitetail. It’s the tradition, camaraderie, and most of all the feeling of being engulfed by nature without cell phones, e-mail or the Internet. The pain of sitting endlessly knowing that the inbox waiting for my return perhaps will reach over 200 e-mails for two days. But, the resignation to the season overrules the dedication to my constant project list.

So, here I sit listening. Listening to the trees moan in the northwest wind; listening to the crunchy fall foliage walk, and sometimes, sound as if it running by my shack. Imagining always that the low poplar branches blowing in the wind are the deer, you know – the BIG one. So to those who say it’s just killing – I say, “BAH.” Really, the whitetail deer are much smarter than us. Once the first rifle blasts the awakening dawn, the deer simply stop, and the long wait begins. Once in a while my peripheral vision plays tricks on me. A branch moves, my heart races, thinking the minuscule movement was that of the whitetail. Not so. So, I wait, more.

Since I was old enough to take hunters’ safety, I’ve been trekking through the fields with my dad and brothers. Several years though I spent hunting season with mom at the mall. I do have a hint of girly-girl in me. For the last 15 years, my husband and I have developed a special bond because of our love for hunting. Our season begins October 1 with the knocking of the virgin arrow ready to take flight armed with a polished broadhead. Bow season begins. November 15 for us marks the day we don’t have to stand in a tree. Phew, I get to sit down, and perhaps, actually get a nice nap in.

This year marked the first time in 15 years that we haven’t awoke together. Depressing, yes; lonely, yes. I made it to the woods though – alone – breaking all the hunting rules. I rolled onto the property at 9 a.m. The excitement of daybreak gone; now I sit and wait for the lunch crowd to break from their stands in hopes of deer being pressured my way. All the while, in typical mommy fashion, wondering how the kids are doing at daycare and in school. Now, you know why I was late. Generally, the babysitters are arranged months in advance for this very special date between me and my husband. However, this year, Nana left to help her sister recover from a surgery. With everyone else we know either hunting or working, plans had to change. Bill wanted me to go out in the morning, but I declined the offer. I stayed home and got our six year old off to the bus stop, packed the 3 and 2 year-olds bag and dropped them off at daycare. Three down, one to go – me. The minivan arrived at home rather quickly from daycare and I flew into the house, grabbed my yellow scent free bag, my Mickey boots, my backpack, and my rifle case, and of course the coffee, and I was on the road.

Thirty minutes later, the mommy van pulled into the once gaited cow pasture. Quickly I dressed, turned off my cell, and began my ½ mile trudge to the blind. Ten minutes later, the virulent northwest winds blow directly in my face and I’m warmed only by my piss warm coffee. Staring at the heavy clouds that are threatening, in typical Michigan fashion, rain, sleet, and snow, I feel calm. Occasionally, the grey clouds break casting a ray of warmth from the November sun. And, here I sit, panning the perimeter and waiting, wondering should I rattle, grunt, snort-wheeze, bleat? I wait quietly. Between my frequent glimpses to the north, west, and south, my professional mommy mind does not stop.

I wonder if the kids doing well, did I remember to send lunch money, should I check my voicemail, should I logon to the web with my phone and check my e-mail???? Or rather, should I be home doing laundry or worse yet, organizing my clutter? Nah, this is much more important. Contemplating all the other "things" leaves, then returns. My heart, however, tells me that this is my day. So I stay and wait.

How will this day end? Probably anti-climatic. For this day, I must be home before five to pick the kids up at daycare. Taboo number two for hunters. Yes, I have to leave my stand by four. I will miss the primetime evening hunting. With a very heavy heart, I’ll sit until four knowing the deer will watch me leave. Soon after my scent is whisked away by the incredulous wind gusts, the deer will peer cautiously from the woods and meander directly through my shooting lane to graze in the nearby bean field. They will live another day.

D-Day Tribute

2009-06-06T10:13:00.000-04:00

Words, at times, interfere with the power of an image. Thank you to all the veteran's who have kept and are keeping our land safe - past, present, and future.

Images from local parade, 2007.

Time Well Spent

2009-05-29T21:56:00.000-04:00

With children in school, sports, and parents who work the Monday through Friday grind, building hunting and outdoor traditions often doesn't happen as a family, especially a family of five. The choices we make and the time we spend outdoors and hunting has to be time well spent.

Spring in Michigan brings us the long-beard season. Mid-Michigan offers an over abundant turkey population. For me, however, this spring coincided with too many prior engagements. Therefore, I didn't even apply for a turkey permit. My husband supported the state and purchased his permit.

The time spent this spring in the woods was a bit different from the past years. He did some early morning hunts, took a friend, and even though I couldn't go, and he didn't score a turkey, in my eyes it was the best year.

Prior to season, he set up a pop-up blind on private property. Knowing he was only going to use his bow, the blind placement was key. The early hunts he called in some big toms, but not close enough to launch an arrow. The two week season disrupted by torrential rains proved to be less than fruitful. Yet, on the warmest day of the spring instead of hitting the blind by himself, he invited our boys to go along. Knowing full well the five-year old wouldn't sit still, he opened the door to our little man.

With no time to waste, my three men quickly gathered their camo clothes and dressed for a past prime time evening hunt. The boys donned camo shirts, headcovers and they even managed to scavenge up my hunting gloves. Yet, their pasty, white, winter skin beamed from their camoflagued heads. Adding excitement to the hunt, my husband broke out the camo face paint and applied the perfect application to ensure the smart turkeys wouldn't pick them out as they sat in the blind. With their innocent faces masked, they watched daddy in awe apply some covering to his arms. Finally, the three loaded up the bow, a bagful of snacks, and rushed off to the hunting spot.

This hunt didn't include me. While I stayed home with our three-year old daughter, I continually wondered how the guys were doing. A seven-year old and a five-year old and quiet is quite an oxymoron. Come to find out after their return, the youngest fell asleep waiting. I can relate - the quiet solace of a warm blind beckons heavy eyelids.

The three returned birdless, but the boys were able to hear the call of turkey and to see them approach to about 50 yards. Their concurrent voices as they opened the back door to our house told me the time was well spent.

Hunting is a challenge when all of the conditions are perfect; add two young boys to the mix and all expectations and standards change. But, it's what we do and it's how we'll instill the hunting tradition in our young family.

Stephanie Brown

Not So Soccer Mommy-ish

2009-04-21T22:47:00.000-04:00

Three years ago, our little girl decided to make her presence known in our world. Her birth changed the family in so many ways. With two young boys already, I was faced with the ultimate life changing decision.

Feeling young and vibrant, I walked into the dealership with my Durango keys tightly grasped. Soon, a late, middle-aged salesman approached and asked what my needs were. It hit me, then and there, I was about to become a mini-van momma. Personally, it was worse then turning 30. I loved my Durango. The safety, the 4-wheel drive, and the room was ideal for a family of four and two dogs. However, with the addition of our daughter, safety (and my sanity) were much more important.

Have you ever had two full car seats and a booster in the back of an SUV? It is not an easy feat to buckle all three with minimal irritations and unneeded personal space comments coming from a four-year old and two-year old. "Mommy, he touched my seat," "that's my cup holder," "I want to sit in the middle." Before we even left the driveway, I was taxed.

So, the salesman proceeded to show me the best of the best mini-van models. From extra storage compartments to sun roofs to a dvd player, each model was still just a mini-van. I didn't want one, I wasn't ready for one, nor was it a V-6 with 4-wheel drive. After test driving one, I opted for a different one. The next day we picked it up. The salesman could tell something was a bit awkward. Perhaps, it was my husband's comment, "whatever, it's a mini-van and it's not mine," that led the very nice salesman to believe we were in just for the safety.

Three years later, my sanity in check, boosters fill three of the seats, the dogs still fit, and I can say I enjoy my van. No, I still don't love it, but with a family of five, it makes perfect sense.

For Mother's Day last year, I received the best gift -a bobble-head buck. My van is a bit more me now.

Lakehouse For Sale

2009-04-10T14:32:00.000-04:00

Growing up with wonderful grandparents surely was a blessing. Now, eight months after grandpa's passing and two months after granny's death, I now realize how beautiful their life was. Since my brothers and I were the only three grandchildren, our life was also special.

On a recent visit back to their lakehouse, the realization they were "really" gone hit me like a ton of bricks. The house emptied except for a few miscellaneous belongings felt more like home than it did when we visited while we were children. Leaving felt impossible, but staying felt even more devastating.

The table and chair foot marks imprinted forever in the carpet remained, the kitchen linoleum was still unscathed after 35 years, the brown sheer curtains hugged the west and south facing bay windows and promised to never let go. Our bedrooms with glow-in-the-dark Mickey Mouse switch plates echoed hollow rememberances of years ago. None of the 1950s blonde stained furniture remained. Empty... Without hearing a sound, our young voices resonated, "Ready!" Our signature beckoning to be tucked into bed. Moments later, granny's leather moccasin shuffle would be heard passing through the kitchen into the backroom, and finally to our room. Hugs, kisses, butterfly kisses, and many giggles later, she would turn out our light and we immediately drifted to sleep.

From the marble master bath vanity to the well pit, every inch of their hand-built home engrained in my mind even more than I could remember...

More narrative sketches coming soon about the best folks in the world!

The Off-Season

2009-03-23T22:22:00.000-04:00

Some much of what we do revolves around the outdoors. It's the off-season for hunting, but October will be here before we know it. March has brought more cold weather, snow flurries, flooding, and finally, the dismal brown grass reappeared. April is only a few days away, and my husband has already scouted the land we lease just west of our home.

Soon, the vast tiled fields will again feel the weight of disk plows and seeders. The smell of spring and freshly turned soil will waft through the generally southerly breezes. The farmers laborous hours of gratitude to the fields pay off months later. The field surrounding our tree stands rotates from corn to alfalfa. The 2009 rotation - alfalfa. The tree stand plan has already been devised to accommodate the whitetail deer feeding patterns.

For now, however, we have to wait.

March leads to April and April Leads to Steelhead

2009-03-13T19:55:00.000-04:00

We're in the process of planning a camping trip to the secret steelhead haven! It's been years since my husband and I have ventured to the back country in pursuit of steelhead. Those stealthy, elusive fish are not an easy catch. Oh what fun it is to quietly walk to a shaded pool tucked away in the curve of the stream and drop in spawn bag. The soft current gently whisks the hook and bait deeper downstream - you wait... Move, cast, wait, move, cast, wait... Of course, steelhead fishing wouldn't be as much fun so if you didn't catch trees, brush, stumps - either above or under water.

It's gonna be a great weekend!

Research, research, and more, yes, research

2009-03-12T15:26:00.000-04:00

It's a learning game. It's about time it all came together. What am I pontificating about? I'm ponficating about social media. I generally think I would be a much more productive person if we were not required to learn how to do this. My house would be much cleaner, my web site would have been done already, but not only for my everyday job, I need to know how all this works.

I've recently added Twitter to the mix. If you're already Twittering, look me up: writeoutdoors. If you don't want to follow me there; well, you're in luck, I've added the Twitter app. to my blog. If you don't follow me here, perhaps, you'll find me on FB where my Twitter's are sent to my status update. All in all, it's a very clever circle of socialness.

I thrive on rhetoric.

So, how does this relate to anything outdoors? (This perhaps is the best analogy I can contrive... Feel free to speculate, debate, whatever!)

Think of mid-November. Until that time of year, whitetail deer live quite individual lives. From October 1 till mid-November, the trails bring us familiar deer. There is mom and the fawn, and another mom this one, though, has twins. Then, the year and half old bucks travel together, perhaps, two to three. Those silly boys herd up in their bachelor groups.

Then, the rut starts. Of course the rut time frame is quite dependent on the weather, moon phase, and all of the other scientific research out there. (That's my husband's gig, not mine!) The rut is like social media. It brings everything/one together - just like the rut! All of sudden you are seeing more does, more four or six pointers, and definitely more shooters. Essentially, depending on where you hunt and what your baiting laws are, the number of deer you see increases. Your food plots become more active, your trail cameras fill up more quickly, and all in all from daybreak to sundown, there is action. This is social media. Of course, there are differences. One difference is that social media is year round. And, unforetunately, except for Twittering, cannot be done from a tree - pending you have a cell signal. So, it's simple, social media and the whitetail deer rut are very closely related. This media is bringing it all together just like the rut brings the 10 months of hunting preparations together.

The outdoor world needs it!

A New Year

2009-03-02T21:18:00.000-05:00

It's about time I got back to this. Writing leisurely is often not high on my priority list as it is what I do all day. This, however, is a start to a women's view of hunting and photography. I wouldn't be real if I didn't write about life in general - health, mommyhood, and girly-stuff.

Ultimately, my goal is to begin making headway in the male-dominated, outdoor writing field. I'm not a fake. I love shooting sports of all kinds, and my favorite scent is Hoppes gun oil :). What do I have to offer? I can create a scene that may perhaps entice women to step out of their comfort zones and head out to the woods. There simply is nothing better then waking up at 5 a.m. to the smell of freshly brewed coffee and quietly slip out of the house with my best friend, my husband, for a day in the tree.

Don't get me wrong, I love to shop! I'm a girly-girl, a mom of three, a wife, but I also enjoy the silence of a morning sun awakening over the eastern horizon revealing a new day. The beauty of hearing morning song birds wake up and gather for breakfast in their favorite trees is captivating and very social. Capturing so many of those moments not only in my head, but with my camera has enabled me to see hunting in a different light. Hunting success is so much more than killing, it's about learning about who you are, what you see, and how completely patient you must be. But, it was a good 2008 season - my first archery kill - doe and a rifle season buck! This broke a very long dry spell for me - seven years! I stuck with it... It's addicting, beautiful, and a great way to spend alone time with your spouse.

Welcome to a new vision of hunting!

It's been a while since I've had a First...

2008-01-06T00:12:00.000-05:00

With persuasion from a colleague, the blog has been created. My blog is intended for anyone who loves to read witty, sarcarstic, sometimes controversial posts from a normal Midwest woman who happens to do what many woman don't - Hunt. My husband and I are fanatic outdoors people, and through this I am using my creative writing and my knowledge about hunting and wildlife management to post original work, both written and photographic. However, by education, I'm a writer. Or, as all the recent PR buzz suggests, perhaps, a wannabee. But, I've got a leg up - I have been published.

With that said, welcome to the first post of many that will entertain both men and women, even if you don't like the outdoors or you don't hunt. I intend to keep the focus on wildlife and the outdoors; yet, I know that my day job, my family, and my techno-geekiness will at times appear. You see, I'm a happily married, mom of three who works full time as a web writer, journalist, photographer, and professor. So, occasionally, my rants may digress from the outdoors.

I'm used to editors, yet, I can break easily. Your educated comments are welcome and feedback is necessary so I can better focus my writing to this immensely huge Internet audience.

It's a late post; therefore, I break here. As many of you know, the children wake much to early in the morning! Check back tomorrow to learn more about the world of hunting from a woman's perspective.