Wednesday, April 16, 2008

Beyond the forest veil


Little by little a rainforest island was persuaded to share some of its innermost secrets, revealing a richness and beauty worth waiting for.
Hidden treasures
A tropical rainforest is really good at hiding its treasures. I already knew this, as I had spent a year on Barro Colorado Island studying for a Masters degree. But when I returned to capture the essence of the forest on film, I was faced with a new set of challenges. Barro Colorado was once the top of a large hill in Central Panama. When the Chagres River was dammed during construction of the Panama Canal between 1911 and 1914, the hilltop was isolated, forming the largest island in the artificial water body now known as Lake Gatun. Covered with lush rainforest, the island has been studied and protected since the 1920s. Today, it is home to a modern research station run by the Smithsonian Tropical Research Institute, which attracts scientists from around the globe and makes the island a Mecca for tropical ecology.
Stunning diversity
Within the forest live tens of thousands of different organisms, variations of life, each with its own individual qualities and role in the system. It is this stunning diversity, interwoven in a vivid and complex web, that makes the forest function as a whole. Most of this life happens secretly and quietly, hidden behind a thick, green curtain of vegetation or concealed by its miniature scale. My aim, working with tropical ecologist Egbert Leigh, was to lift this curtain for brief moments, to reveal the layers of the forest, to unravel its complex ecology and to convey its beauty.
In the dark
We decided to focus on certain animals and plants as ambassadors of the ecosystem, examples to represent the multitude of creatures playing a similar role. But the sheer number of species present made any particular one hard to track down, and even when I spotted what I was looking for, there were a thousand ways to miss the crucial moment. Only about 1 per cent of the light that hits the tree canopy ever reaches the ground, resulting in permanently low light levels, and the extreme climate - constant heat and moisture - was an ever-present threat to my camera equipment.
Waiting and watching
I spent 15 months in the forest, hours and days of waiting for the right animal or sufficient light, often in pouring rain. At times, I felt like giving up. But then there were single moments of magic, short windows in time and space when the forest was willing to share one of its secrets. Suddenly a bird would fly by, the sun would shine on just the right spot and I would grab one or two images before the forest closed in once again.