I started going to this particular nature park in ’98, and 27 years later, I still enjoy the thrill of seeing something I’ve never seen before. One of the best examples of that was a hot, steamy Saturday afternoon in 2016, when the pond was full of croaking bullfrogs — I could hear more of them than I could see. But two of them actually seemed to be having a conversation. The timing and the volume both contributed to that. I already knew that croaking bullfrogs are establishing territory. If that meant any of the lady frogs in that area were included, well, what a coincidence, hm? So I’ve been told.

Anyway. The two bullfrogs were speaking to each other, and I am saying here that tension was definitely building between the two in a way even a clueless non-frog human guy like me could pick up on. Finally, Bullfrog 1 decided that Bullfrog 2 was quite full of crap, and started swimming over to where Bullfrog 2 was.

It was quite a distance. I took a number of pictures of Bullfrog 1 getting closer and closer to Bullfrog 2. Bullfrog 1 actually swam past Bullfrog 2, in that “I am totally not going to fight you; I’m just heading to the store for a pack of smokes” way. But then he stopped! He turned! He faced Bullfrog 2 and paused! They were facing each other! Tension! I think I was the only one in the world at that moment who excitedly thought, “I am in the right place at the right time to see two bullfrogs fight!” as I snapped away.

And then Bullfrog 1 swam over to Bullfrog 2! And when they got close, they leaped at each other! Just like in this photo! Bullfrog 1 jumped a little too soon, and Bullfrog 2 got under him and had the strength to knock him over! I got the picture! I got more pictures! There was splashing and the brawl lasted for a few moments, not that bullfrogs are known to perceive time!

And then it was over. Bullfrog 1 — the closer of the two in this photo — lost. I don’t know how these are decided, and think it may actually have been on an If You Know, You Know scoring system.

And Bullfrog 1 began the very, very long Swim of Shame back to where he had been hanging out originally. Even to me, it seemed like it took a much longer time to get back than it took for him to get to Bullfrog 2. The pond had quieted down. Everyone in Bullfrog City knew. Bullfrog 1’s world was already a little smaller, and every other bullfrog on the block was thinking that maybe they could get a little more space for themselves, too.

And that is why I love this photo.

June 18, 2016. Cropped from a larger image. Nikon D7100 (DX sensor), Nikon 70–300mm lens at 220mm (35mm equivalent: 330mm), f/16, 1/250, ISO 1,600.

I’m walking to my bus stop on my morning commute, and I’m a little less than a block away when this woman leaves her house through her front door, locking it. We glance at each other, as people do, but then ignore each other, and she ends up maybe 10 or 15 yards in front of me — not as close as this zoom suggests, but close enough that I could zoom in this well. The whole time, from when she first stepped out the door, she was carrying this very empty banana peel.

I don’t know! And I wasn’t going to ask! How does that go? “Excuse me, that banana peel seems to be stuck to your fingers”? “Hi, neighbor, are you setting a slapstick comedy trap for me? And should I be watching my step?” “I was around in the ’60s, and it’s a myth that smoking that gets you high”?

At that intersection, she went one way and I went the other, and she is immortal in my photo collection.

March 30, 2016. Google Nexus 6P cell phone, focal length 4.67 (35mm equivalent: 26mm), f/2, 1/215, ISO 60.

I admit that’s an odd title today, unless you know, as I did not until a few minutes ago, what this is. Here’s a lovely macro lens closeup of chicory, which has a history of being used as a coffee substitute. I have not tasted it in this form (and like coffee just the way it is, thanks) but I’m really happy with those curlicue stamens being in such great focus while the rest of the flower is still recognizable but pretty much saying, “Check out my curlicues.”

July 25, 2010. Nikon D90 (DX sensor), 105mm Nikon macro lens (35mm equivalent: 155mm), f/18, 1/125, ISO 640.

We’ve seen it in movies, we’ve seen it in sitcoms, we’ve seen it in cartoons. Maybe it’s some poor sop laying concrete or laying bricks and — this is the part that happens in cartoons a lot — someone runs through it or falls into it. A scene or two later, the fall guy is just finishing smoothing it all out, and sure enough, the same thing happens.

I love this because I like to think that happened in real life. Something really plowed into that brick wall, got into its business big time, and then, maybe when the mason was fixing it or maybe sometime later, the same thing happened in the same place. In cartoons, the fall guy usually cries. But I bet this one just said “This is gonna have to do,” put those last bricks in (using what looks like cake frosting), and called it a day.

September 5, 2009. Nikon D90 (DX sensor), Nikon DX 18–105mm lens at 66mm (35mm equivalent: 100mm), f/13, 1/160, ISO 1,250.

As best I can tell, this is a juvenile yellow-crested night heron, because when I search through pictures of herons that are not great blues, that’s the one this mostly matches. But… that glare, y’know? Here’s a dinosaur descendant that does not give a, uh, damn. It just stood there and looked around — uh, glared around — for about 45 minutes while I just kept snapping from a few yards away. Do not address this bird as “Hey, kid.”

I have never seen an adult yellow-crested night heron, maybe because by the time they’re adults, they’re night creatures. (It doesn’t seem right to call them “night owls.”) If you happen to search the internet for images of them, they look nothing like this, and are pretty cool.

October 8, 2017. Nikon D7100 (DX sensor), Nikon 70–300mm lens at 300mm (35mm equivalent: 450mm), f/11, 1/180, ISO 560.

City dwellers are always checking windows. It isn’t because we’re creepy peepers who want some tantalizing glimpse of another person’s life. It’s because we want to see the critters who see us. (When I lived on the third floor, my cat was also a fan of watching the sidewalk below, especially at night.)

May 23, 2018. Samsung S8+ cell phone, 4.25mm focal length (35mm equivalent: 26mm), f/1.7, 1/24, ISO 1,000.

Kingfishers are really fun birds with a cool look (their crown kind of comes across as a bird mohawk) and the opportunity to get great shots of it fishing, either as it dives or as it flies off with its catch. They aren’t afraid to catch fish bigger than they are, though I haven’t gotten the chance to see how they handle that. But I’ve seen how, when they spot a fish, they’re fast and they’re accurate. So are airplane pilots, but this kingfisher isn’t impressed with everything a pilot does that goes into an approach to O’Hare.

December 7, 2019. Cropped from a larger image. Nikon D7100 (DX sensor), Tamron 100–400mm lens at 400mm (35mm equivalent: 600mm), f/11, 1/1,000, ISO 800.

One Fall night, I’m walking to Michigan Ave. to take a bus home from an art show at Navy Pier and end up snapping a few shots of the architecture between the two. This nighttime shot of the Wrigley Buildings, the Tribune Tower, and the Trump Tower turned out really nicely, and ended up on the cover of my 2021 calendar.

November 5, 2017. Samsung S8+ cell phone, 4.25mm focal length (35mm equivalent: 26mm), f/1.7, 1/30, ISO 250.

I love this photo because it’s lovable! Check out that shutter speed. This photo was exposed in 1/500th of a second, and that chipmunk making sure it scored that piece of mango was still a blur. I bet that slice of mango weighed more than the chipmunk did. But it knows good stuff, good luck, being in the right place at the right time, and getting away clean with the prize.

July 14, 2024. OnePlus 12 cell phone, 13.3mm focal length (35mm equivalent: 70mm), f/2.6, 1/500, ISO 50.

How have I wronged her? Oh, I’m sure I can count the ways. How many of us have made this expression? Every single human, I’m sure. But the cat could convey her displeasure just as much as a person could, and I can only hope that I corrected the situation promptly.

February 19, 2013. Samsung Galaxy Nexus cell phone, focal length 3.43 (35mm equivalent: 33mm), f/2.75, 1/15, ISO 640.

It’s just a random vernacular moment. Maybe in most cities or towns, someone would have a note like this on a lockbox. I don’t know. It sure feels like a very Chicago thing to me.

July 19, 2021. Samsung S20+ cell phone, focal length 5.4 (35mm equivalent: 24mm), f/1.8, 1/300, ISO 40.

On a fiercely hot Saturday afternoon where the only shade is the shadow he casts, a worker takes a long walk from an office at one end of these grain silos to another at the far end.

This wheat mill was only about a mile and a half west of downtown Chicago. Owned by ADM (Archer Daniels Midland), it was an active milling site. It was demolished in early 2021, and the site is currently a parking lot. News reports from the time suggest that there will be luxury development there. But I love this photo because these silos were old and beat up, the worker brings some scale and human interest, and the conversion to black-and-white brought out more detail and gave it a vintage quality, befitting a time when Chicagoans had an active milling site so close to residential and white-collar office neighborhoods.

September 5, 2009. Nikon D90 (DX sensor), 70–300mm DX Nikon zoom lens at 45mm (35mm equivalent: 67mm), f/13, 1/2,500, ISO 1,250.

When I lived in Chicago’s Andersonville neighborhood, my semi-enclosed back porch had a view of this amazing maple tree. It often showed itself off well, but my favorite views of it were in the Winter after a snow. I have a couple of other photos of it with snow that will land here eventually, but this one’s a good starter.

February 2, 2013. Nikon D90 (DX sensor), desaturated from full color. The manual lens did not provide focal length or f stop, 1/180, ISO 400.

A local resident reflects on what all the residential construction along the Chicago River will mean for its own housing.

A little more than a mile due west of Lake Michigan, the Chicago River splits into its North and South branches at the Confluence. The Riverwalk follows the south side of the river, ending at the Confluence, and there’s a small but really nice park there with a few dozen Adirondack chairs. It gets lots of sun in the later afternoon, but it’s a pretty nice place to be anytime the weather is pleasant. “Between Green and Blue” was also taken at that park.

In the park’s early days, the area across from the park was a rookery used by ducks and herons. That’s gone now; the city decided that the building you see in the reflection needed the space more than natural river dwellers did.

July 12, 2019. Samsung S10+ cell phone, 12mm focal length (35mm equivalent: 52mm), f/2.4, 1/200, ISO 50.

In contrast to yesterday’s dark, moody crows-foot violets, here’s a nice, bright iris that’s at its fullest. Like the violets, this is a closeup macro shot, but at this small aperture, we’re picking up a decent amount of sharpness. Irises are pretty common, and they don’t last long in the wild, but find a really nice one and it will offer you lots of different ways to see it.

June 8, 2013. Nikon D7100 (DX sensor), 105mm Nikon macro lens (35mm equivalent: 155mm), f/16, 1/250, ISO 400.