John Moran, David Moynahan and I went to Keaton Beach on Saturday to get the "best damn scallop photograph in the world" as John puts it. It was John and David's mission actually. Without their vision, I would never have come home with images like these, images that look like they are of creatures from distant planets. I had no idea that scallops were so strange looking.

You can see that three of these images are close ups. The more distant image provides you with a view of what the whole scallop looks like. These images were made under controlled conditions. We brought an aquarium of sorts onto the boat and with a complex arrangement that included an alligator clip, a dowel, a base, weights, scallops, water, sea grass, off camera flash, a macro lens and high quality Canon 5D Mark II, all three of us were able to come home with amazing images.

But next time you are able to see a scallop alive, in its environment, take a close look with your naked eye. You don't need all this equipment to see that scallops are striking creatures. You can easily see their jewel-like blue eyes. When the sun hits them just right, even underwater, the black pupils light up white, like a diamond within a sapphire! It's crazy. Once they settle down, they open their shells, and you see them "breathing" the water in and out while they feed through an intimidating but harmless maw. SO COOL!

It's been a while since my canoe and paddle felt the tanic water of the cypress-lined Santa Fe. I listened to sounds more than I searched for photographs to make. The insects were buzzing their little heads off, especially the cicadas. The forest was a riot of sounds waving up and down in intensity. Birds were as much a part of the chorus as the insects (maybe because the birds eat the bugs). An occasional fish, turtle, or tree-trunk-scurrying squirrel added to the tapestry of nature's song.

I had not made one single image – well, not one that I liked – for the first two hours. A few snap shots here and there of reflections and textures of the forest, but nothing that I would call photography. Then, as I rounded a bend, I was reminded that a photographer never knows what might happen next in the pursuit a moment.

At a shallow spot in the river, there stood a deer, bright from the sun against a backdrop of dark forest. It was feeding on river grass! I had a clean line of sight but was at least 100 yards away. I knew that any minute it would see me and promptly scamper away. So, with only the flow of the current guiding me forward, I made as many images as possible before the inevitable departure of this lovely creature.

In the midst of photographing the deer, I got the idea to shoot a quick panorama, handheld! My goal was to for you to see not just the deer, but the whole environment in which the deer lives, from the cypress tree on the left to the dark, shaded forest on the right, and everything in between. I really love this "look" because it shows what is important. Our environment is not about one animal or one plant. It's not about us. It's about all of it together. This is our world. This is your river. It belongs to all the people you love and the people you don't even know. It belongs to the deer and every other animal in the forest.

While watching this deer feed, amidst my elation of experiencing this moment, the thought occurred to me how high levels of Mercury have been found in the Santa Fe. And I couldn't help but wonder that, if one day this deer is to feed a human, that person, or that family, will consume mercury. Mercury is highly poisonous and very difficult to chelate from the body! Think about that for a minute. Think about how everything you see in this photograph is attached to you. Even if you never eat this deer, or deer in general. You drink water don't you? You breathe air don't you? Everything you see in this picture is a part of you, directly or indirectly, spiritually and physically. Soak up what you see in this image. Learn from it. Study it. The world is a beautiful place. See it, know it, feel it, love it.

The Florida Forever Coalition has published the 2010 Florida Forever Conservation Photography Calendar on their Web site: www.supportfloridaforever.org.

The Florida Forever Conservation Photography Calendar is a publication initiative of the Legacy Institute for Nature & Culture to educate Floridians about conservation in their home state. LINC has identified Florida Forever as the right message to highlight with this unique calendar. Thus the calendar is a publication dedicated solely to Florida Forever, and a partnership between the coalition and LINC's calendar is as natural as a longleaf pine soaking up the warm Florida sun.

I have managed the calendar for the last three years, with increasing  responsibilities as time goes by. I assign landscapes to photographers, collect images, edit, write, steer design, fundraise, market, sell and distribute. Oh, and I am also one of the 12 photographers. Below is my image in the new 2010 calendar, captured early last spring while photographing the Florida Forever project of South Goethe.

You can purchase the calendar for $17 through my Web site by clicking here. Your purchase supports LINC and my effort to help Florida conservation. Shipping included.

After canoeing, biking and hiking more than 20 miles on Saturday, Nov. 14, Bruce, Buford, Rodolfo and I set out for the Withlacoochee River. On Sunday, Nov. 15, The four of us went cave exploring where Bruce had been years before. Bruce and Buford were there just for the day, while  Rodolfo and I continued on for two more days and 16 more miles. We took out on Tuesday November 17th at Hwy 44 near Rutland, Fla. Like the Chassahowitzka, the Withlacoochee is part of the Nature Coast. Slowly but surely I'm exploring every facet of the Nature Coast to learn about the beauty and the threats. Learn more about my Life on the Edge project. (Note: This link will open in a new window but you will still be within ericzamora.com)

Bruce Morgan leads the way through a landscape of limestone outcroppings covered with ferns. We searched for caves that Bruce had seen years before.

One of the features I liked best about the Withlacoochee River, and something that I have rarely seen on a river system, are "lakes" along the length of the river. The Withlacoochee can be 40 feet wide then open up to be nearly a quarter-mile across. Bonnet Lake, pictured above at sunrise, is one of those lakes.

A limpkin (Aramus guarauna) watches me closely as I drift silently forward in my canoe.

An American coot (Fulica americana).

The Tsala-Apopka Lakes are a network of water bodies adjacent to the Withlacoochee River. The lakes are separate during dry periods and connected when rainfall is sufficient. Swamps and feeder creeks also connect the lakes to the river during wet periods. For my trip down the river, the lakes and rivers were drought-stricken, allowing a tall grasses to flourish on muddy soil. My only access was by hiking. I set out one evening to explore by foot the oak stands punctuating the expansive prairie. Many of the trees in these dry, oak-dominated forests were cloaked in epiphytes. I found the most magnificent oak stand I've ever seen in Florida. The picture above doesn't do justice to what I saw. Since my trip was exploratory, and the conditions weren't quite right (because of the lack of rain), I photographed for reference only. With GPS in hand, I carefully to marked the locations of my movements with the intent to return one day under better conditions to photograph this particular oak stand in all its glory.

Sunrise on a wide stretch of river just south of Princess Lake. This stretch of the Withlacoochee was my favorite. Wide and deep, we saw no houses for 6-8 miles of river, only alligators, birds, turtles and otters.

On Nov. 14, three friends and I embarked on a bruising, skin-cutting, bone jarring adventure by way of boat, bike and foot into the primeval Chassahowitzka Swamp. This unbroken expanse of forest, one of the largest south of the George state line, is reported to have some intriguing karst features pocking the landscape. Only thing is, few people know where those features are. Hunters and the occasional game warden are the only human souls passing through. That is until we showed up. Rodolfo d'Arbelles, an old friend from high school and trusted nut-job just crazy enough for a 20-mile-plus adventure through a mosquito infested swamp, joined me with Bruce Morgan and Buford Pruitt, two men I had never met prior to the weekend of our journey. We turned out to be peas in a pod. My goal was to see for myself the condition of the swamp – the old growth cypress (if any) and rare plant and animal species such as black bear and, come to find out, orchids. The Chassahowitzka is part of the southern Nature Coast, an area I'm determined to help protect. Learn more about my Life on the Edge project. (Note: This link will open in a new window but you will still be within ericzamora.com)

Buford Pruitt (left) and Bruce Morgan situate their fat-tire mountain bikes securely in the canoe, readying them for the 4.6-mile paddle to the headwaters of Ryle Creek. There we would leave the canoes, and begin exploring the swamp via decades-old logging roads. We started at sunrise.

The prehistoric-looking wood stork (Mycteria americana) is a federally-listed endangered species. I made this photograph on the Chasshowitzka River.

I must say, photographing from a bicycle is no easy task. We ditched the canoes at the headwaters of Ryle Creek only a few feet from Zebrafinch Avenue (which I find to be a funny name because this "avenue" is just an overgrown path through the woods). We left the canoes behind and proceeded to bike throughout the northwestern region of the Chassahowitzka Swamp searching for the best spots to leave the bikes behind so we could venture by foot into the swamp. Zebrafinch is closed to the public and makes for great off-road biking. This is me in the foreground, with Rodolfo second and Buford bringing up the rear.

According to Buford, this is ladies' tresses orchid of the genus Spiranthes. Buford has studying flora, fauna, and ecosystem management for nearly 40 years both as an environmental consultant but also as a hobbyist who loves recreating in the outdoors. Science helps give context to striking imagery. No bear signs to document.

Bruce Morgan takes a refreshing dip in a karst pond. The pond is part of the Blind Creek drainage. It is neither the beginning, nor the end of Blind Creek, only a window into its passage across the swamp. We searched for the beginning of the only navigable section of the creek and found it, not too far from the pond pictured above. One day, I will return to traverse the undocumented Blind Creek.

After spending the better part of a day exploring the Chassahowitzka Swamp searching for Blind Creek, we hustled back to the canoes where we would paddle 4.6 miles back to the boat ramp on the Chassahowitzka River.

The sun sets over the Chassahowitzka River as flows from the confines of the swamp and empties into the Gulf of Mexico. This part of the Nature Coast is one of the most scenic and wildlife rich areas in the entire state of Florida, if not the US.

Rodolfo, beaten but not broken like the rest of us, unloads the canoe. We arrived well after dark, using headlamps to navigate the featureless waterway and alert passing boats to beware of our presence.