Photo Walk with Bill Draper, June 2025

The Walk from Belle Isle to the Floodwall

I was incredibly grateful to snag a walk with Bill Draper in partnership with the Friends of the James River. Proceeds go to maintaining 600 acres of park and over 20 miles of walking trails that see over 2 million visitors a year! Bill answered our many questions about camera equipment, how to take great photos, and what to look for when taking wildlife photos. It was great to meet so many photography enthusiasts and discuss camera equipment, our favorite subject matter, and upcoming photography trips. We saw snakes, turtles, herons, and osprey. This was my first walk with the primary goal of wildlife photography. I quickly realized how addicting it can be! Even as it was getting hot, I kept telling myself “ just 5 more minutes.” Keep scrolling to read about everything I saw!

The Herons

They look so elegant from far away, and slightly terrifying up close. Many had scars from where others tried to fight them for fish. Their wingspan was so impressive for such a lanky bird. They walked like they knew they were stars of the show. This was their spot and they had fish to catch and steal. One of the larger ones flew past us, so close we could almost touch its feathers. It stood between the photographers and the fishermen, before flying to where the rocks met the floodwall.

In Flight

The Intersection of Humans and Nature

I didn’t have the right lens for close ups, so I had to adapt and figure out how I could incorporate the birds with the scenery. It was fun figuring out how to get the birds framed with the other photographers and fishermen. The train and pedestrian bridges were also fun to incorporate. They added interesting lines to the background. I was happy with how I could show the sheer height of the floodwall as well. It dwarfed us as we watched for herons and osprey. It felt like three separate entities coexisting in one corner of the river: Nature, humans, and human engineering.

Moments like this make me so grateful for the James River Park System. How lucky are we to have this right in the middle of our city? I’ve been thinking about different approaches to conservation. One approach being that we should keep nature and humans separate, and the other saying we need to blend nature and human life. I think there are certain instances where we need to keep them separate. Turtle breeding grounds being one. Yet how can we learn the joy of seeing a great heron erupt from the river with a giant fish in its beak if we’re confined to down town? How would we realize the importance of clean rivers if we can’t wade in the waters and stand still until the minnows nibble our toes? How can we know the restorative properties of water if we can’t walk down the trail after a bad day and listen to the water flow over the rocks? We are more connected to the fish in the water than our own creations of concrete and rebar.

Aerochrome Edits

I’m still trying to find a consistent editing style. I can’t seem to find once that I like for every photo. I was playing around with the Aerochrome edit, and was surprised at how much I like it. At first I was hesitant because I didn’t think a wildlife/nature photo would look right with a bunch of red instead of green. However, the red and grey tones helped the heron standout against the water.

The Flowers

A few prickly pear blossoms were holding on to their spikey paddles. One of the men on the walk mentioned they were in full bloom about a week ago. What I would give to be everywhere all at once during peak blossom season. We had the same conversation I’ve had multiple times with multiple people around the canal walk. Who decided this was the spot for prickly pears? They’re surprisingly native here, despite looking like they belong in the southwest. I keep thinking about a prickly pear mocktail I had once, which would be fantastic in this heat. If only I could remember which local restaurant in Richmond I ordered it from.

The only other flowers I noticed were Queen Ann’s Lace. They grow wherever there’s open space. I see them along roadsides next to the chicory and on forgotten construction sites. There’s no need to ask for permission, no need to wait for someone to plant them. They are queens after all.

The Fly

I wandered over to a drainage pipe and noticed ripples in the water. A fly had fallen in and was desperately trying to escape. I wondered how on earth flies manage to find themselves upside down in a puddle as often as they do. It made little waves, the rhythm of desperation. I read somewhere that you shouldn’t interfere with nature, but how can I not. I coexist with nature, don’t I? Does that not mean I am part of it? Does the butterfly affect have to be negative? It quickly grabbed on to a stick I found and stood still on the nearby driftwood, drying out in the warm sun. In the moments I find myself drowning, I hope some will notice and help.

The Graffiti

It wouldn’t be a Richmond River walk without graffiti. It breaks up the monotony of a concrete wall, clearly undeterred by attempts to cover it up. A patch work of tan and gray paint, blending with experienced and novice letter and monikers. The artist version of wild, peering out over the train tracks as great herons swoop over the water in search for fish. The primal urge to persist and fill one’s hunger ties them together.