A male capercaillie in Speyside. Photo by Nigel Wedge, used under a Flickr Creative Commons license.

I’m standing on a forest road in the Scottish highlands along with 10 or so companions, scanning the slopes for signs of the bird we’ve come here to see. Instead, what appears out of the woods is our guide, Mark Denman. He’s been creeping about quietly, hoping to spot a capercaillie, the world’s largest species of grouse, but the bird remains stubbornly uncooperative.

Mark and his colleague, John Grierson, are naturalist guides with Speyside Wildlife, one of Scotland’s premier wildlife tour companies, and I’ve joined their group for a day of birdwatching to get a sense of the natural richness of the native Scottish pine forest. Over the course of the day we’ve explored several different areas of the Abernethy Forest and the Loch Garten Reserve, searching for specific birds to add to our tally. With just a day, I’m happy just getting a feel for the character of these woods, but the rest of the group has a whole week to meet their wildlife goals, and they seem to be doing quite well at ticking species off their list. Earlier in the morning we took a walk through a magically misty forest, where elaborate spider’s webs hung draped over pine trees and mosses. Before we even set off down the trail, the group was thrilled to spot a group of Scottish crossbills, a species they’d been hoping to see. Mark and John set up scopes so that even an unprepared interloper like me could get a good view.

Until I visited Scotland last fall, I had no idea the country was such a great wildlife destination. I knew of its stunning scenery, of course – and the mountains, moors, and lochs certainly did not disappoint – but I’d never realized just how much wild flora and fauna there is in this small country on the edge of Europe.

Speyside (the area surrounding the Spey River) is at the heart of Cairngorms National Park, the largest national park in Britain. The park covers 1,500 square miles, contains four of Britain’s five highest peaks, and is home to a range of wildlife including pine martens, otters, Scottish wildcat, and numerous bird species from the elusive capercaillie to eagles to ptarmigan.

Abernethy Forest on a misty morning

My visit took place in October as the days were starting to get cold – not the best time of year for some species, but quite good enough to give me a sense of what the country has to offer. After a day of guided sea kayaking on the Moray Firth near Inverness to see world’s most northerly population of bottlenose dolphins, I headed down to Aviemore, where I met up with Sally Dowden, the owner of Speyside Wildlife, who arranged for me to join the day’s birdwatching excursion. She also took me to see the company’s specially built hide on the Rothiemurchus Estate, which gives guests the opportunity to see nocturnal mammal species such as the pine marten and badger, often at very close range.

Despite its name, Speyside Wildlife does not confine itself to Speyside area, though the region is certainly central to the company’s identity. Programs in Speyside are based at the Steading, a comfortable converted homestead in Glen Feshie. Many itineraries include at least a few days here, though programs range throughout Scotland, from the estuaries of the east coast to the northwestern tip of the Scottish mainland, and from the Inner and Outer Hebrides to Shetland and the Orkneys.

The group I joined was on a week-long “Autumn Wildilfe” program that was based at the Steading but included explorations further afield. The previous day, it turned out, they’d been up at the Moray Firth as well. Some of the group told me they’d spotted a couple of kayakers heading out across the water as they watched for dolphins from a narrow point of land poking into the Firth. The following day the group was heading off for a full-day excursion to the west coast, where they hoped to see an array of sea birds and other species, particularly the majestic white-tailed sea eagles soaring over the lochs of Wester Ross. I wished I could go with them, but other adventures beckoned. Still, this small taste of Scotland’s wild side was enough to make me start planning my return before I’d even left.

For more info: www.speysidewildlife.co.uk

I recently returned from a brief trip to Jamaica, so it feels appropriate to feaure this beautiful island in this week’s photo. Although my tour was primarily birdwatching-themed – Jamaica is home to more endemic species than anywhere else in the Caribbean – we did have time for a few other activities along the way. One day we made a stop at Somerset Falls, just off the main road between Annotto Bay and Port Antonio on the northeast coast. Operated as a private tourist attraction, the falls are certainly not a wilderness experience, nor are they particularly large, but it’s still a pretty spot once you get past the tourist facilities (hotel and bar) and board the rowboat for the short ride up to – and under – the Hidden Falls.

Born into the Samburu tribe of northern Kenya, Tom Lalampaa could have ended up following the traditional pastoral lifestyle of his people – had his brother made a different choice. When Tom was a child, his father called his sons to him and said, “I’d like one of you to go to school and the other to remain here and help take care of the cattle.” The decision fell to Tom’s brother, as the eldest. He opted for the cattle, and Tom was sent to school. Ultimately – with the support of the entire community – he went on to complete a BA in social work and an MBA in strategic management at the University of Nairobi.

Tom Lalampaa

As it turned out, his brother’s choice wound up changing not only Tom’s life but also that of the Samburu community and the land they call home. As community development manager for the Northern Rangelands Trust, Tom is now a key player in efforts to protect Kenyan wildlife and improve the lives of his people and others who inhabit this beautiful but often unforgiving place.

The savannas of northern Kenya abound with wildlife, including several endangered species, notably the Grevy’s zebra (only about 2,500 individuals remain in the wild, the majority of them in Kenya) and the Hirola antelope (whose wild population is probably no more than 400 animals, making it Africa’s most endangered antelope). Yet problems have been widespread: poaching of elephants for ivory, the killing of a variety of species for bush meat and cultural reasons (wearing lions skins is a key part of traditional ceremonies), and general environmental degradation from human use and migration. Add to that a porous border with the Sudan to the north and a high level of conflict and mistrust between different ethnic groups in the area, and you have a region where conservation challenges have long outweighed successes.

Hirola antelopes, courtesy of Northern Rangelands Trust

Since 2004, however, all that has been changing. That’s when the nonprofit Lewa Wildlife Conservancy joined with representatives from the Kenyan government and local stakeholders including private and community conservation initiatives to create the Northern Rangelands Trust. Formed to coordinate previously fragmented conservation efforts and promote cooperation rather than conflict between different ethnic groups, the NRT is “a home-grown institution aimed at addressing home-grown problems and creating long-lasting local solutions,” according to its website. It unites different interest groups “with a goal of collectively developing strong community-led institutions as a foundation for investment in community development and wildlife conservation.”

The NRT links conservation and development through community conservancies, which are community-led initiatives that work to meet conservation goals in ways that also benefit local residents. Conservancies engage communities in conservation efforts and natural resource management while simultaneously developing wildlife-based sources of income.

Since the establishment of the NRT, “security in northern Kenya has greatly improved,” Tom Lalampaa says. “Security for people, and security for wildlife.” Local conservation staff are now equipped with VHF radios, enabling them to report violations or other problems quickly. Increased communication between ethnic groups has greatly reduced intertribal conflicts. “Eight different ethnic groups are getting to work together, plan together, and to trust each other,” Tom explains.

On the conservation front, NRT successes have included improved grassland management (benefitting both wildlife and livestock) and an intensive aerial survey of the Hirola antelope population (efforts are now underway to secure funding to develop a predator-proof sanctuary to safeguard a breeding population of the species). The organization was also instrumental in the recent reintroduction of the endangered Rothschild’s giraffe to areas where it had not been seen for 40 years – an effort that involved a dramatic and complicated transfer of eight giraffes on a barge across Lake Baringo to a community-owned wildlife sanctuary on the opposite shore.

Transferring giraffes across Lake Baringo, courtesy of Northern Rangelands Trust

In the past, conflict has kept most tourists away from northern Kenya, but now visitor numbers are increasing. Six community-run lodges provide revenue for community development, and other tourism-related enterprises are taking root. Many local women have received microloans to establish businesses making and selling handicrafts. Traditionally wealth was concentrated in the hand of the men, but now, Tom says, “the dynamics are really changing. Women are getting their own resources, their own voice.”

Other community development initiatives have included cutting out middlemen in order to enable locals to command higher prices for their cattle, and building a water pipeline to save women from having to walk for hours every day to fetch water. Educational opportunities have also increased: In 1990, Tom was the only person from his village to go to university; now there are 43 students from the community pursuing higher education.

“When I look back to where we were some time ago in the community to where we are now, it’s amazing,” Tom reflects. “People are now seeing wildlife as a resource and taking responsibility for their lands. There is dialogue where there was conflict.”

A recent study of NRT conducted for The Nature Conservancy by researchers at the University of Southampton supports these claims. The researchers found that “[c]ommunity conservation has significantly enhanced both livelihoods and habitat condition in northern Kenya” and concluded that “community conservancies may provide a framework for integrating conservation and development at the local scale.”

The NRT currently supports 18 community conservancies that protect 2.4 million acres (971,000 hectares) of land, with more communities clamoring to join. Ultimately, Tom dreams of having 10 million acres of land in conservation. It’s a big goal, but he is undaunted: “I look at my past, I look at where I am, and I look at where I’m going, and I think the future is bright.”

* * * * *

For more information, visit the Northern Rangelands Trust website. To learn how to support the Trust’s efforts, see “Supporting NRT.”

Site of first proposed dam on Pascua River. Photo by Gary Hughes / International Rivers (www.internationalrivers.org)

The Chilean government today approved a $7 billion project to construct five large dams in the country’s pristine Aysén region, despite heavy opposition from environmentalists and the general public, who say the approval process has been flawed due to problems with the Environmental Impact Assessment (EIA) and conflicts of interest on the part of several members of the government-appointed commission responsible for reviewing the project.

International and Chilean environmental groups have waged a five-year battle against the dams, which would be constructed in a largely roadless part of Patagonia considered one of the country’s last great wilderness areas. A poll conducted by IPSOS Public Affairs in April 2011 showed that more than 61 percent of Chileans oppose the project.

Under threat are two of Chile’s wildest rivers, the Pascua and the Baker, as well as at least 5,600 hectares (nearly 14,000 acres) of forest, river valleys, and farmland that would be flooded as a result of the dams. HidroAysén plans to build a total of five dams: three on the Pascua and two on the Baker. Portions of the spectacular Laguna San Rafael National Park would be among the areas flooded.

Opponents are now calling on Chilean President Sebastian Piñera to overturn the approval of the dams. Failing that, they plan to continue to fight the project as it enters its next stage, the EIA for 2,300 kilometers (1,429 miles) of transmission lines that would be needed to transport the electricity from Patagonia to the national capital, Santiago.

Construction of the transmission lines would involve creating the world’s longest clearcut, destroying massive stands of virgin rainforest, including large areas of habitat for the endangered Southern Huemul deer, a national symbol (fewer than 1,000 animals are estimated to survive in the wild). The transmission lines would cross national parks and other protected areas in a geologically unstable region that is prone to earthquakes and home to numerous active volcanoes. The project would also involve the relocation of about three dozen families and would have negative impacts on others who make their living through tourism and farming.

“They should advocate for the citizens, but it seems that what really matters here is drawing foreign investment,” said Bernardo Lopez, the mayor of the Aysén community of Tortel, which depends largely on tourism, told the Associated Press.

The wild Baker Rivers. Photo by Jorge Uzon / International Rivers (www.internationalrivers.org).

Chile imports nearly all its fossil fuels and relies heavily on hydropower for electricity, creating a difficult situation in a country whose booming economy is based largely on energy-intensive mining. Within 12 years, the dams are expected to generate 2.75 gigawatts, equal to almost a third of central Chile’s current energy capacity. HidroAysén has promised the Aysén region an array of boons, from reduced energy costs to employment and educational opportunities to infrastructure such as airports and seaports.

Still, residents aren’t convinced. “Here we don’t need all this energy that they are going to generate,” Gloria Hernandez, an adviser to the Catholic Church in Aysén, told Bloomberg News. “They are going to deliver it to the mining companies in the north.”

Opposition in the city of Coyhaique, the capital of Aysén, were so widespread that the Chilean government sent in special police forces in anticipation of today’s vote. Spokesmen for Patagonia sin Represas (Patagonia, Free of Dams), the alliance of Chilean and international organizations spearheading the campaign against the dams, called the expanded police presence an overreaction designed to paint the opponents as “terroristic,” according to an article in the Chilean English-language daily, The Santiago Times.

Following the vote this afternoon, demonstrations spread throughout Chile, from Patagonia in the south to the Atacama Desert in the north. In Santiago’s Plaza Italia, protesters chanted, “Piñera, entiende, Patagonia no se vende (Piñera, understand, Patagonia is not for sale)” and “No a HidroAysén, sí a la vida (No to Hidroaysén, yes to life).” Dozens of protesters were detained by police, and metro stations near La Moneda, the presidential palace, and the University of Chile were closed or had limited access.

Placing a person in the foreground of a photo can give a helpful sense of scale or provide a focal point for wide-angle shots of landscapes or buildings. This doesn’t have to be posed. I took the following two shots from almost the same spot at the Forbidden City in Beijing, China. I think the second one is more interesting because the two people walking through give a sense of scale and fill up some of the empty space in the photo.

Similarly, in the photos below, the inclusion of the boy adds scale to the statue of the falcon god Horus at Edfu Temple, Egypt, and adds overall interest to the photo. Although I took other photos of this scene that were more posed, with the boy facing the camera, I preferred this shot both because it was more candid and because the boy’s stance generally mirrored that of the carved figure above his head.

People are inherently interesting. It might be the lines on an old man’s face or the innocence in a child’s, the colors of someone’s clothing, or the personality or joy coming through in a person’s smile. As with the Mongolian women in last week’s photo essay, it was the evidence of a life well lived in the face of this man (also from Mongolia) that caught my eye.

In this photo, what captured my attention was the fancy dress and luminous smiles of these indigenous women at the animal market in Saquisilí, Ecuador.

Of course, it’s important to be unobtrusive and culturally sensitive when taking someone’s photo. There are times when you can take a photo without people being aware of it or when it’s impossible to ask for permission, but when in doubt, always ask before pointing your camera at anyone. If you don’t speak the language, simple gestures and a smile can usually get your request across. Respect people’s wishes if they don’t want their picture taken. It’s better to miss a great shot than come across as rude or intrusive.

When you take pictures respectfully, the act of photographing can become an opportunity to connect, however briefly, with local people. These children followed me through the village of Sauraha, Nepal, begging me to take their picture over and over again as they posed in different spots. It was great fun and one of the more memorable experiences of my stay there.

Often people who are initially reluctant to be photographed become more willing if you spend a little time interacting with them and letting them become comfortable with you before you aim your camera at them.

When photographing people, don’t always go for the obvious shot. Sometimes a portrait of someone looking directly into the camera is the most effective image, but other times you may get a more interesting photo if you shoot from a different angle. Sometimes a profile shot can be effective, as in this photo of a young Mongolian boy at a local festival.

Even pictures of people’s backs can make good photos. This image of a father and son looking across to the modern Pudong district from the Bund, Shanghai’s fashionable waterfront boulevard, is one of my favorite photos from my visit to China because it captures a moment of tranquility and parent-child bonding in the middle of a busy city.

In this shot of monks waiting to enter a temple at the Gandan Monastery in Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia, it was the colors of the many robes together that I liked. I didn’t need to see the faces for the photo to work.

By including people in your pictures you will add life and interest to your travel photography. Looking back, you may even find that these are the images that trigger the most vivid memories of your journey.

Located in the province of Norrbotten, Harads sits on the banks of the Lule River about 60 kilometers (37 miles) south of the Arctic Circle, an hour’s drive from Luleå. Treehotel owners Kent and Britta Lindvall were already running a guesthouse near the Treehotel property when Jonas Selberg Augustsén arrived to shoot a documentary, The Tree Lover, in Harads.

The film crew left behind a rustic cabin high in a tree along the river, prompting guests at the Lindvalls’ guesthouse to inquire about spending a night in the treehouse. Although the cabin facilities were too primitive for guests, the queries set the Lindvalls to thinking: What if they could offer people the chance to sleep among the treetops, close to nature, without sacrificing luxury and comfort? And while they were at it, why not make the treehouses unique examples of creative architectural design?

The end result of that brainstorm was Treehotel, “a place where nature, ecological values, comfort, and modern design combine into an exciting adventure,” according to the Swedish version of its website.

Treehotel currently has six very different rooms, each designed by a different architect, with another 18 rooms planned over time. The most striking room is the Mirrorcube, which is attached to a single tree and blends into the surrounding forest thanks to its reflective exterior walls. (A special infrared coating makes it visible to birds.) Among the other unique rooms are a gigantic bird’s nest (with an electronic ladder that can be retracted once guests are inside), a multi-level UFO, and a cabin with a rooftop deck high among the trees. There’s even a tree sauna to complete the relaxing getaway experience.

The Mirrorcube. Photo courtesy of Treehotel.

The Bird's Nest. Photo courtesy of Treehotel.

The UFO. Photo courtesy of Treehotel.

The Cabin. Photo courtesy of Treehotel.

Of course, all of this does come at a steep price: Rooms at the Treehotel start at 3,500 Swedish kronor per night (currently about $555).

For more information, visit the Treehotel website.

Here’s an example from Egypt of what a difference light can make. The first photo was taken at the Temple of Karnak before the sun had fully risen. The light is grey and flat.

In the second photo, the sun has come up but the light is still soft enough to cast a warm, rosy glow on the row of sphinxes. By midmorning this warmth would be gone, replaced by bright direct light and reduced contrast.

Of course, when traveling you often have no choice but to shoot in the middle of the day. Look for ways to reduce glare by blocking the direct sunlight, perhaps by standing so that a wall is blocking the sun. Using a hood for your camera lens is a great way to get rid of glare. If you don’t have a hood, simply holding your hand above your lens can help – just make sure your hand doesn’t appear in the picture!

The direction from which the light is coming is extremely important. Most people have heard the so-called rule that you should stand with your back to the sun, so that it is shining directly on your subject. However, this kind of front lighting is not always effective. Front lighting can be great for capturing colors but as with top lighting the lack of shadows can make your photograph appear flat. Depending on what you are trying to convey in your photo, you may have better luck with side or back lighting. Try different positions to see what works best.

Sometimes shooting directly into the light can create an interesting effect in and of itself. An obvious example is sunsets and sunrises, but even at other times it can be worth experimenting. I shot this photo of bicycles against the late afternoon sun in Varberg, Sweden. It was a bit too early for a true sunset sky, but for this particular shot I liked the brightness of the sun as a backdrop for the silhouetted bikes.

Similarly, I shot into the sun for this photo of Seattle’s International Fountain in order to give a shadowy effect to the children playing in the water.

Even shooting at times of day when there is little light can make for interesting shots. The first Egypt photo above looked flat in the pre-sunrise light, but this photo from Varanasi, India, works better because of its subject matter. Although it’s a bit grainy because it’s a scan of an old print, this photo tells the story of people going about their early morning business in the grey half-light just before dawn, while most of the city still sleeps.

At the other end of the spectrum is this photo of Inner Harbour and the provincial parliament in Victoria, British Columbia. Although it’s taken fairly late on a summer evening, it’s still light enough that you can make out the cluster of boats in the foreground, but dark enough to capture the lights on Parliament and around the harbor.

Many people take fewer pictures on cloudy days than when the weather is fine, but grayer skies can actually be better for some kinds of outdoor photography than bright sunshine. Of course it’s lovely when the sky comes out deep and blue in your photo, but in really bright conditions it’s more likely to appear pale or washed-out. In many situations colors will come out richer on a cloudy day. On sunny days, the light is hard and directional, striking the subject from a particular angle, whereas on cloudy days, the light is softer, enveloping the subject from all directions. This may not make for as dramatic photos as a bright blue sky, but unless the clouds are really ominous, the soft light will allow you to capture details and color variations throughout the image in a way that is impossible on a sunny day. In the photo below, it’s unlikely I would have gotten such a perfect reflection in bright sunlight, and in any case this photo of Kilchurn Castle in Scotland wouldn’t have been nearly as atmospheric without the gray mood.

In some cases the drama of the photo comes from the light on the clouds themselves. The photo below would have been just a darkish photo of boats on Seattle’s Lake Union without the rosy glow of the setting sun on the streaky clouds.

Likewise, this photo of Lake Wakatipu in New Zealand becomes more than just another boring photo of a lake purely because of the changing light of a clearing storm.

The interplay of light and shadow are an integral part of good photography, both indoors and out. Pay attention not only to where light is coming from but also to how it illuminates your subject. Both of the following photos were taken at St. Peter’s Basilica in the Vatican, on two different visits. On the first one, the rays of sunlight shining through the windows of the dome create a spotlighting effect. In the second photo, taken on a rainy day, that magical light is absent, and the photo appears dull and flat.

Another thing to consider is flash. Many people automatically use flash when taking photos in low-light situations, particularly indoors, but sometimes that’s not the best option. Try adjusting the ISO setting of your camera to let in more light instead, and see how that compares to a flash photo. Sometimes photos taken at high ISO can appear grainy, but most digital cameras now come with so many megapixels that this isn’t as much of a problem as it used to be. I often take a photo both with flash and at a high ISO without flash, and then compare the two. Sometimes the flash photo is better; other times it isn’t. The photos below, of gauchos in southern Chile, illustrates the difference. In the first photo, taken with flash, the photo is uniformly bright and a bit harsh. In the second version, taken without flash, the shadows give the photo softness and texture.

As with most of the other photo tips discussed in this series, the idea here is to develop an awareness of light and to use it in whatever way is most effective for a particular photo. Being able to recognize optimal light conditions and make the best use of the light that is available at any given moment is a skill that will go a long way toward enhancing your photography.

For many people, if you mention the word cactus, the image that comes to mind is that of the saguaro, the towering, multi-armed icon of the Sonoran Desert. Standing tall over the surrounding shrubs, saguaros square off resolutely against both the scorching sun and the brief but intense annual monsoons. They reach for the stars in Arizona’s famously clear night skies and form striking silhouettes against the vivid desert sunsets. Their fruits feed wildlife from javelinas to coyotes, while their prickly green bodies shelter nesting woodpeckers and other birds.

It’s easy to anthropomorphize saguaros, imagining them as people frozen by nature into fantastic shapes. One saguaro appears to be dancing, another to be leaning in for a kiss. Still another is pointing into the distance: “He went that-a-way, sheriff.”  Further on is the culprit, his hands in the air. In late spring, when blooms begin to sprout, the saguaros look as though they have curlers in their hair. Wrapped in lights for the holidays, they appear dressed in glittering, form-fitting gowns for a gala party.

There’s something romantic about these kings of the desert, something that evokes a longing for the frontier, for the days when vast parts of the United States were still uncharted and unexplored. Filmmakers and advertising people recognize this and have made the saguaro into the icon not only of the Sonoran Desert but of the entire Southwest, a symbol of the Wild West from Wyatt Earp to John Wayne.

For me, part of what’s interesting about saguaros is that – like people – they are both vulnerable and strong. With shallow root systems that spread out horizontally in every direction as far as the cactus is tall, saguaros are remarkably resilient in the face of limited and inconsistent rainfall. At the same time, they are sensitive to changes in their environment and may die if moved. Growing at a rate of just two to five inches per year, saguaros don’t even begin to sprout arms until they are approximately 75 years old. The largest, many-armed saguaros may be over two hundred years old. A saguaro may survive drought, lightning strikes, and vandalism only to topple in an ordinary storm. A desiccated skeleton may stand for months after the cactus has died, seemingly impervious to the elements, then fall to the ground at the slightest change in the wind.

Over a decade ago I spent two years in Tucson as a graduate student at the University of Arizona and never ceased to be thrilled by the countless saguaros standing at attention along the roadsides. Whenever I needed a quick break from the city, I would drive west along Speedway Boulevard and up the road through Gates Pass, across the jagged Tucson Mountains. In the late afternoon, the saguaros cast intriguing shadows and the peaks glowed purple, appearing almost translucent. At night, the mountains blocked out the city lights, revealing billions of stars and the misty white of the Milky Way. Against all those pinpricks of light or the gleam of the moon, the inky silhouettes of saguaros took on a mysterious quality. During summer storms, they stood boldly against the lashing rain, brought into sharp relief by flashes of lightning cutting crooked paths across the sky. Unmoving sentinels, the saguaros seemed to stand guard over the other plants and animals of the desert.

These days I live in Seattle, where the climate is about as different from Tucson’s as possible. The Pacific Northwest, with its greenery and rushing rivers, suits me better than Arizona, but the desert had its own special beauty. There was something magical about the light, the sunsets, the dramatic storms, and those startling bursts of color when the cacti and wildflowers bloomed. As for the saguaros, they’re like old friends, or lovers, who linger in your mind long after you have parted ways. They’re not very good at keeping in touch, but whenever I visit, it’s like a reunion.

Of all the archaeological sites I’ve visited in Egypt, one of my absolute favorites is the magnificent temple at Luxor, particularly after the sun has gone down. It’s impressive enough in the daylight, but the nighttime illumination adds warmth to the stone, and the shadows bring the intricately carved hieroglyphics into sharper contrast. With the golden tones of the temple juxtaposed against a deep blue early-evening sky, the effect is magical. The tiny crescent moon rising over the temple on the night when I took this photo was a nice bonus.

Luxor Temple was built by the 18th-dynasty pharaoh Amenhotep III during his lengthy reign (1390-1352 B.C.), one of the golden ages of ancient Egypt. Amenhotep III was one of Egypt’s great builder-pharaohs; the other, Ramses II, came later (1279-1213 B.C.) and ruled for even longer, living,  it is believed, to the venerable age of 92. Known as Ramses the Great, he built prolifically all over Egypt (including the magnificent funerary temples at Abu Simbel, my other favorite Egyptian site), erected countless colossal statues of himself , and put his own stamp on Luxor Temple, expanding and adapting Amenhotep’s original. The two imposing entrance pylons in the photo were Ramses’ doing (and are covered with reliefs depicting his deeds in battle), as were the six statues (two seated and four standing) and two obelisks that originally flanked the entrance. One of the obelisks and two of the statues were later removed by the French; the obelisk now stands in the Place de la Concorde in Paris.