A visitor takes a photo of a boulder plastic made of synthetic material called “To be in Limbo” hangs from the ceiling of the 20 meter high Jesuit Church in Vienna, Austria, Tuesday, November 25, 2014. The eight meter high, hollow and 700 kilogram heavy sculpture from the artists group Steinbrener/Dempf and Huber is supposed to symbolize faith and its threatening moments. The installation will remain until April 19, 2015 and then move to a church in Hamburg, Germany. (Photo by Ronald Zak/AP Photo)

“Cassowaries are large, flightless birds related to emus and (more distantly) to ostriches, rheas, and kiwis”, writes Olivia Judson in the September issue of National Geographic magazine. How large? People-size: Adult males stand well over five foot five and top 110 pounds. Females are even taller, and can weigh more than 160 pounds. Dangerous when roused, they’re shy and peaceable when left alone. But even birds this big and tough are prey to habitat loss. The dense New Guinea and Australia rain forests where they live have dwindled. Today cassowaries might number 1,500 to 2,000. And because they help shape those same forests – by moving seeds from one place to another – “if they vanish”, Judson writes, “the structure of the forest would gradually change” too. (Photo by Christian Ziegler/National Geographic)

These may look like alien creatures from another planet, but the odd organisms are, in fact, colorful, microscopic life forms found in our forests. The bizarre slime molds, known as mycetozoa or fungus animals, were captured by geologist Valeriya Zvereva. She spent months documenting the common life forms that are found beneath our feet – but are rarely seen. Incredibly, the organisms can move and hunt for other microscopic life forms on which to feed. Zvereva, who is from Moscow, used a special macro lens to capture the vibrant and up-close shots, which show off the organisms’ unlikely beauty. (Photo by Valeriya Zvereva/Caters News)

Plants grow on houses in the abandoned fishing village of Houtouwan on the island of Shengshan July 26, 2015. Just a handful of people still live in a village on Shengshan Island east of Shanghai that was once home to more than 2,000 fishermen. Every day hundreds of tourists visit Houtouwan, making their way on narrow footpaths past tumbledown houses overtaken by vegetation. The remote village, on one of more than 400 islands in the Shengsi archipelago, was abandoned in the early 1990s as first wealthy residents then others moved away, aiming to leave problems with education and food delivery behind them. (Photo by Damir Sagolj/Reuters)

“A very delicate person, beneath the flamboyance”. Jasper, Ladbroke Grove, 1977. “In the 1970s, Australia was rather cut off. I’d always wanted to live abroad, so I moved to Rome and then London. I was an art historian, but started studying photography part-time. I was interested in the demi-monde culture and began mixing in all sorts of circles. Jasper was a rather wonderful character...”. (Photo by Jane England)

A resident jumps as he watches strong waves crash into shore as an effect of Typhoon Hagupit in Legazpi, Albay province, eastern Philippines on Sunday, December 7, 2014. Typhoon Hagupit knocked out power in entire coastal provinces, mowed down trees and sent more than 650,000 people into shelters before it weakened Sunday, sparing the central Philippines a repetition of unprecedented devastation by last year's storm. (Photo by Aaron Favila/AP Photo)

Firefighters take part in airport emergency exercise at the Sultan Iskandar Muda international airport in Blang Bintang, Indonesia's Aceh province on October 26, 2023. (Photo by Chaideer Mahyuddin/AFP Photo)

Kevin Russ, a photographer & image moderator for iStockphoto, grew up in Arroyo Grande, California. In 2003, he made the move to Portland, planning to study at Multnomah Bible College. Finding the workload to be minimal, Kevin invested in a camera, filling his free time and finding himself instantly smitten with the craft. A year and a half later, photography had evolved into his full-time job. However, after 4 years of consistent portrait work, Kevin became burnt out and took a step back from photography altogether. Two years later, he picked up the camera again and now spends the majority of his time on the road, exploring & photographing the rustic landscapes & wildlife he encounters.