Drama – some people thrive on it. They seem to need drama in their life to give it spice, to make it more interesting. But as for me, I’ve always taken the alternative view. I try to avoid unnecessary drama in my life.
I’m not alone. When I googled “What does drama mean?”, I got the answer, “Drama typically refers to conflict, tension, or emotional upheaval in interpersonal relationships or social situations”. Hmmm. Good thing to avoid.
A gull is bringing unnecessary drama into a poor whimbrel’s life.
But the Oxford dictionary’s definition of drama is much more benign – “an exciting, emotional, or unexpected series of events or set of circumstances.” When it comes to photography, a little drama is a good thing.
Great light can add drama to a photo.
Great light can add drama to a photo. Combining that with an interesting subject, like a rugged coastline, can make for an especially exciting, dramatic photo.
Combining dramatic lighting and an interesting subject can make for an exciting, unexpected image.
Revealing the power and majesty of Nature is one of my favorite ways to add drama to my photos. And one of my best-loved ways to do that is by watching winter waves along the Pacific Coast.
Winter wave watching
My favorite place so far to watch winter waves is Pacific Grove, California on Monterey Bay. Not only is it a very picturesque coastline, conditions there favor the most dramatic kind of waves, the plunging breakers. It all has to do with the topography of the ocean floor. Since it rises steeply in that location and is rough and rocky, the waves get taller and break more violently than they would on a gentler, more shallowly inclined ocean bottom.
One reason waves are bigger on the Pacific Coast is because they have farther to travel.
That’s not the only reason. Wind is the main driver of big waves. That is why surf warnings accompany weather fronts. Also, waves coming all the way across the Pacific have a greater distance to build up than waves on the Atlantic or the Gulf of Mexico.
Pacific Grove is my favorite place for winter wave watching.
Waves have been in the news a lot in the last couple of weeks, wreaking havoc on both coasts and creating extra drama in a lot of people’s lives. A friend texted me a couple of weeks ago to tell me that king tides in the San Juan Islands, where I spent last winter, coupled with 70 mph winds, created an unprecedented storm surge, wreaking a little havoc in a place where the seas are generally quite calm. Just before New Year’s, there was a high surf warning and evacuation notice in Santa Cruz, a place that got hit very hard by a runaway ocean last winter.
High surf advisory
Winter waves have been a big deal on the East Coast lately, too. We’ve all seen the pictures of houses washing away in Maine. I was inspired to write this post by Tina Schell’s tale in this week’s Lens-Artists Photo Challenge recounting how this winter’s storms on the South Carolina barrier island she lives on were more terrifying for her than hurricanes she has endured there.
Winter waves are getting bigger.
We can expect more drama, and more stories about big waves in the future, because it’s a scientific fact that waves are getting bigger. Waves in California are a foot taller than they were 50 years ago. Global climate change is presenting us with a double whammy. Rising sea levels mean more water coming into shore even when it isn’t storming. Climate change is also bringing us more violent and more frequent storms.
Winter waves are creating both good and bad drama.
These waves have the power to move mountains. And they will. Just ask the California Department of Highways, constantly rebuilding Highway 101 after every big storm. It’s a minor miracle that that road is still with us. It is quite exhilarating to try to capture that power through photography.
Waves have the power to move mountains.
So if you have the chance, get out there and enjoy the drama of winter wave watching. But please stay safe while doing so. Heed the warnings and watch from a safe distance. Don’t get too close to the shore on those days with heavy surf advisories. And NEVER turn your back on the ocean. Sneaker waves are real and can be deadly.
It’s a year in review, the best of 2023. For this week’s Lens-Artists Photo Challenge, we were asked to show no more than 12 of our favorite images from the past year. Wow, that’s a hard choice.
It wouldn’t be a Rambling Ranger Best of post without at least one wildflower! Easter Sunday in the Cathedral Hills, Grants Pass, Oregon
I couldn’t do it. Too many favorites. So I tried to narrow it down from the 112 I’d picked out of my files to just the ones I had never published. I still had far too many.
My favorite B&W image of 2023.
That’s probably because I’m STILL processing 2023 images and I find new favorites every day. I finally narrowed it down to 15. Culling those last 3 was especially painful, but those were the rules this week. So finally, here it is, my best 12. Unpublished, that is.
Sunwapta Falls, Jasper National Park, Canada
The feature image was obviously taken in Grand Teton National Park, under the most amazing lighting. The first big winter storm of the season was due to hit in less than 8 hours. You could see the front coming in. I had to keep moving so I wouldn’t be caught by it, but I got some amazing shots as I was passing through.
The day before, though, the light was horrible in Yellowstone. Yet that harsh, in-your-face glare made this photograph possible. I never would have seen it if I’d had good lighting on the bigger landscape.
A small piece of a grand landscape in Yellowstone National Park.
I took the Icefields Parkway through Jasper and Banff on my way south from Alaska this year. I’ve included an image from each park. I wish I could have included more. These were the hardest images to narrow down.
Bow Lake, Banff National Park, Canada
My best photo session of the year, though, was Bandon, Oregon. Scenic views, tidal pools… A third of the images in this post are from Bandon, not to mention the photos included in the last two posts. It was a magic couple of days.
This is my favorite image from my time in Bandon.
The next two images seem like a matched set to me, even though one was from Bandon and the other from Cape Perpetua. I just see them hanging on a wall together.
This one is from Bandon.
I was just SO happy to finally visit tide pools and see sea stars!
This one is from Cape Perpetua.
The landscape at Bandon is so varied, so many views. This next image looked like an alien planet to me, with the grey lighting and minimalist composition. Hard to believe it’s the same beach, and the same day, as the other landscape.
Alien landscape
Another great photography day was winter solstice. I’ve included a couple of images from that day. From the base of the Sandia Mountains, I could see the ice blown onto one side of the trees lining the cliff, so I was excited for, and anticipating, this shot all the way up on the tram. I was not disappointed.
Frosty Day
This last shot illustrates just how rugged and wild Albuquerque’s backyard wilderness really is.
Albuquerque’s back door wilderness
What will 2024 bring? Ten days in and I’ve already got zen cranes and raptors hunting. I’m so excited to see what’s next! How about you?
Last chance is the theme for the final Lens-Artists Photography Challenge of 2023. Tina asks us to include those photos taken in 2023 that we haven’t published yet, that didn’t fit in with the other themes.
So this post is kind of random, an assortment of images that I like, but that are maybe not for everyone. They’re mostly not the grand scenic stuff. (That’ll be the next post.)
Hank, one of my favorite kitties
I’ll start with a portrait of Hank. Hank was my favorite of all the kitties I’ve ever pet-sat for. I spent all of last winter hanging out with him.
Living Potpourri
You’ve seen me post a lot of wildflower images, but not garden flowers. Since I committed to a winterlong housesit last year though, I missed the spring wildflower bloom in the desert and the Sierras. I had to make do with what was around me, and I had fun with the patterns I found in these flowers.
Spring!
I was pretty antsy and ready for a road trip when I was finally free of my commitment on April 1. I headed down the Oregon Coast, looking for signs of spring, but spring was late in coming. I did find a few signs, though.
More signs of Spring!
In one coastal campground, most of the sites were flooded. Not so good for camping, but great habitat for Skunk Cabbages! (Hey, I’ll take whatever wildflowers I can find!)
Shaped like a heart
I found this sea anemone in a tide pool on Cape Perpetua. I thought it was kind of cute, looked like a heart.
Lighthouses are so photogenic!
I traveled south all the way to Bandon, where I had one of those perfect days for photography. You know, one of those days when the light is right and every picture you take just works?
This beautiful sculpture is completely made out of beach trash.
This sculpture made a powerful point. It was constructed out of trash washed up on the beach. It was an amazing piece of artwork.
I probably should have just put together a post on the beach at Bandon, so many of these last chance photos are from there. That’s partly because it was the batch of photos I was working on when I first started thinking about this post!
Psychedelic melting tide pool
I thought this image was kind of weird and psychedelic but fun. The pink and black rock and the wet sheen made it look like everything was melting. It reminded me of Salvador Dali’s clocks.
Bandon, Oregon Tide Pools
The fun in this picture was in the processing. By opening up the exposure I created a high-key image that looks more like an illustration than a photograph!
Easter in the Cathedral Hills
I spent Easter morning hiking with friends in the Cathedral Hills, in Grants Pass, Oregon. This is another image where I had fun playing with the processing, giving it a misty look, and making it look as much like a painting as a photograph.
Sharing the road with bighorn sheep
Another fun image was captured this fall in Canada’s Jasper National Park, where I had to share the road with a few bighorn sheep. Later during my fall journey South, I also captured the feature image. This was a day when the light was NOT right. I really wanted to visit Yellowstone Falls, but the sun was in the wrong place, mid-afternoon light shining directly in my face when I looked at the falls. Perfect backlight for capturing a small detail, though.
Coming up through the clouds
Finally, I had to include one image from last week. I took the Sandia Peak Tram to the top of the mountain to celebrate Solstice, take in the view, and treat myself to a bowl of green chile stew in the fancy restaurant at the top of the mountain. You know, those perfect photo days when the light is right and every picture just works? Uh huh, I got lucky once again. Winter Solstice was one of my best photography days of 2023!
Thanks, Tina, for hosting the Last Chance Challenge. I’m a day late and a dollar short as usual, but it was lots of fun! Happy New Year to you all!
Well, it’s almost Christmas and Winter Solstice is only a few days away. Kind of reminds me of a Dar Williams song, “Christians and the Pagans”. (Give it a listen) There’s a line in that song, “And you find magic from your God, and we find magic everywhere, ”
I’m a pagan at heart, it’s nearly Winter Solstice, and I do find magic everywhere, especially in the natural world. So here are a few of the places and things I find magical.
Mountains
A magical alpine landscape
I’ve always been a mountain girl, and it’s not only the big peaks that are magical. I’m in love with the alpine, the land above treeline. Not just the big views, either, but every little detail. Especially the little details. There’s another Lilliputian world there if you look closely, and it’s a magical place.
There’s a whole other world beneath your feet!
.I used to play a game with my visitors when I did Discovery Hikes as a ranger in Denali. I would give them circles of string, about six inches in diameter, and have them enclose a patch of alpine tundra. I would ask them to count all the living species they could find in their circle. Then I would hand out magnifying glasses and have them count again. They always found more the second time around, with that closer look!
Water
Waterfalls are magical. Do you see the face in the rocks to the right of the falls?
Water is life. Literally. Without water, there is no life. It’s a magical substance. And there’s this weird thing that happens occasionally when I photograph waterfalls. Although I don’t see it when I’m making the shot, I will sometimes find a face in the photo (the spirit of the waterfall?) when I open it up to process. That’s what happened in this image. Can you see the face? It’s magical.
Trees
Redwoods are amazing trees.
There are a lot of magical trees out there. Have you ever meditated with a redwood? Or wandered through the fairyland of a temperate rainforest, like you might find in the Pacific Northwest?
Olympic National Park has some magical forests.
One of the most magical kinds of forests I’ve ever seen are the Madrone/Manzanita woodlands of Oregon’s Siskiyou Mountains, with trees that look like women, decorated with delicate lichens and moss. Magical.
Manzanita in the Cathedral Hills in Grants Pass, Oregon.
Tidepools
Tide pools on Bandon Beach
Tide pools are magical places. Especially to me. I’ve been on a mission to find good tide pools, and I’m not always successful. Timing is everything. If you don’t have a real low tide, forget it. But I got lucky last spring, twice; once at Bandon, my favorite spot on the whole Oregon Coast, and then at Cape Perpetua. I scored an awesome campsite with great wildflowers at Cape Perpetua, too.
Sea Stars are making a comeback!
One of the most miraculous discoveries in my successful tidepooling this spring was that sea stars are coming back! Decimated by sea star wasting disease, it’s been years since there was a healthy starfish population anywhere on the Pacific Coast, but there were a lot of them in Oregon this spring. Brings joy to my heart
Desert
Arches are ephemeral.
Arches and natural bridges are pretty magical, too. I listed them under desert to go with my photo, but you can also find them on the coast, products of erosion, sculpted by the waves. In the desert it’s the wind doing the carving for an arch, and water for the natural bridges.
These nature sculptures are ephemeral. beings. You never know how long they will last. The arch in this photo, Shakespeare Arch, is already gone, collapsing a couple of years ago. I’m glad I saw it when I did because it was a beauty, now gone forever.
Mosaic Canyon in Death Valley
Another magical product of erosion are slot canyons. All canyons are magical, never knowing but eagerly anticipating what’s around the next bend as you hike up one. Slots just bring the excitement up a notch, with the beauty of their polished walls and the way they have of drawing you in, deeper and deeper.
Flowers in the desert can be magical.
A good wildflower season in the desert is definitely magical. To see a landscape that is pretty bleak most of the time, nothing but dirt and rocks, transform into a veritable garden of delight, completely drenched with flowers – well, it’s got to be seen to be believed. Maybe we’ll get lucky this year. Fingers crossed.
It’s not only the quantity of flowers that blows me away, it’s the incredible variety.
Home
Last, but not least, I live in a magical place. When I first came to McCarthy, I felt like I’d discovered Never Never Land. It was a place where you never had to grow up, unique, like nowhere else in the world. That was before social media, before McCarthy was discovered by the rest of the world.
Perhaps it’s not quite so magical now, now that it is on the map. With Instagram, there are no longer any best kept secret magical places. But I’ll bet it’s still pretty magic to people who have never been there before, who are freshly discovering it. And after all, it’s the people who play the largest part in making any place magical, and McCarthy is still filled with amazing, kind, beautiful people, people who keep the magic alive.
McCarthy is a magical place.
Thanks to Ann-Christine of Leya for this week’s Lens-Artist’s Photography Challenge, Magical.
It’s tricky. Sometimes you can see them and sometimes you can’t. But once you do, you can’t unsee them. I’m talking faces. Faces and other features, mimicked in rock outcroppings or trees.
Can you see a fish face in these rocks?
I’m on the road this week. Since I am visiting Face Rock State Scenic Viewpoint in Bandon, Oregon today, I thought it might be fun to share a few of my images with “spirit people’ in them with you.
I know I’ve published this one before, but it’s such a perfect “tree spirit”.
Face Rock even has a Native American legend attached to it, so a lot of people have given this sea stack human attributes over the ages. Even so, I had a real hard time seeing the face at first. It’s a nasty, stormy day with gray, flat light that doesn’t bring out the shadows that usually make this rock so distinctive. If you are also having trouble seeing a resemblance to a face, too, the profile is on the right side and she’s looking up towards the sky.
This is Face Rock. If you can’t see the face, it’s a profile on the right, looking up at the sky.
Sometimes these faces are very well known. The Old Man of the Mountain in Franconia, New Hampshire was even a state symbol, printed on the license plates, until erosion did it in about 20 years ago.
That’s the thing about these features. Like the humans they resemble, they are ephemeral, although their life spans are generally much longer than ours!
I saw this one very clearly when I shot it, but it didn’t translate so well. If you can’t see the face, here’s a hint – the black spot is an eye and the sawed off branch is a medallion on his headdress. That’s how I first saw it, though in this picture it looks like the sawed-off branch could be his eye, too.
Occasionally, I take a photo and find the “spirit face” in it after I process the image, having never noticed it when I took the original photograph. Has that ever happened to you? My feature photo is one like that. If you can’t see the face, it’s in the lower middle of the image and looks like a gremlin.
Peek-A-Boo!
I spent a winter in Hawaii many, many years ago, back in my film photography days. I found spirit faces everywhere in those images when I had them developed! By secret waterfalls, in sacred caves…..it was spooky! There’s more going on out there in the world than our mere human senses will ever fully discern or understand. (Twilight Zone theme)
Fiona’s (Shrek) legs
I find this last image quite remarkable. I hope it doesn’t offend any of you. The tree grew like this naturally, a mother Madrone in the Siskiyou Mountains of southern Oregon. I have not changed it in any way. This tree could make you believe in the old Greek myths where young girls pursued by lecherous gods were transformed into nymphs and dryads by jealous goddesses.
A dryad turned into a tree
I hope you have fun with the resemblances in my post this week. Thank you, Donna of Wind Kisses, for this week’s Lens-Artists Photo Challenge, “It’s Tricky.”
Housesitting on Orcas Island this winter was a new experience for me, in many different ways. It was the first time I’d lived in an oceanfront property. I really enjoyed that! That is an experience I wouldn’t mind repeating! This was also the first time I’d lined up a housesit that lasted the entire winter.
This was my winter housesit.
There were a lot of reasons why staying in one place for a big chunk of time seemed like a good idea. I had a lot of projects that I needed to really focus on, instead of letting myself get distracted by the next adventure. Although most of those projects are still unfinished, I did make a huge amount of progress.
Could I be happy living in the Pacific Northwest?
Another reason I wanted to spend time in one place is that I have kind of been scouting for a new home, trying to figure out where I could live and still be happy after spending nearly half my lifetime in Never Never Land, the coolest town in the Universe, McCarthy. McCarthy is an amazing place to be, but there’s a reason why we call it the Do It The Hard Way Club. It is a very physical lifestyle, and gets more and more difficult as I age. But where else can compare? Where else will I be content? I feel like I need to find a new home, but I keep putting it off.
Looking into Canada
Orcas Island seemed like it might be a possibility. This is a land with enough water and a gentle climate, where you can live sustainably. It would be nice to leave a lighter footprint on the Earth. But I found that Orcas wasn’t a good fit for me. There were a few things that left me sorely disappointed.
Enough water and a mild climate, a place where one could live sustainably
I’ve learned that the weather doesn’t suit me. I think I already knew that, but I had to give it a try. This was the first time I’d spent more than a month in a maritime climate. It’s an experience I’m not especially anxious to repeat. Even though the San Juans are in the rain shadow of the Olympic Mountains and it doesn’t rain all that much here, the skies are usually grey in the winter. I didn’t see a decent sunset here for four and a half months, until about 2 weeks ago. I need more sunshine. I really do. Otherwise, the SAD Syndrome kicks in. It didn’t affect me as badly here as it does in Alaska, but I still had to struggle against the ensuing depression that strikes me when I spend too many days without sunshine and blue skies.
I need more colors than grey in my sky!
Another thing I really, really need are wild lands. Orcas is far too domesticated to suit me. When I first visited the San Juans, about 35 years ago, they were much wilder. Camping on Shaw Island, tiny deer with velvet antlers walked right into camp. I sat at our picnic table and watched the otters play. We camped somewhere near the ferry landing here on Orcas during that trip. It was the first time I’d ever seen tidepools and the weird and wonderful creatures that inhabit them. So I came to the San Juans this time with certain expectations. I thought I’d see otters. And deer. And tidepools.
I had to go to San Juan Island to find wildlife.
I should have known better. After all, McCarthy is very different than it was 30 years ago. Why did I expect the San Juans to stay the same? Things change, and island environments are particularly fragile and easily disrupted. There are a lot more people in the world now, and a lot less open space.
Looking East to Anacortes
A plague wiped out most of the deer on the island a couple of years ago. I’ve seen one deer, for about 3 seconds, running across the lawn the first week I was here. I haven’t seen one since. Although people keep telling me the otters still live here, I haven’t seen any. I haven’t seen any orcas, either.
The San Juans are Paradise, IF you have a boat!
Another big disappointment was that although Orcas Island has around 50 miles of hiking trails, there is very little access to the coast. It’s all privately owned. If you add up all the public beaches and coastal trails accessible by road on the island, you might come up with about two miles altogether. There’s not a public beach on the island you couldn’t walk across in ten minutes. I had no idea that there would be so little coastal access to anyone without a boat. I was really, really glad I was staying in an oceanfront property, so at least I had a way to reach the sea.
Weird and wonderful tidepool creatures
Another thing I didn’t know is that there are no negative tides during daylight hours all winter long. There have been 3 days with good tidepooling since I got here, all of them this month. I’ve made the most of them, but that was definitely a disappointment. I had so looked forward to the new experience of learning that ecosystem.
Some of the sea stars are making a comeback!
There’s a lesson I needed to learn. About expectations. If I’d approached this place with a beginner’s mind, without my preconceived expectations, I wouldn’t have been so disappointed. I need to appreciate what is instead of what I think should be.
Taxiing for takeoff
It’s not like I’ve seen NO wildlife. I say hello to my fellow snowbirds, a raft of Harlequin Ducks, every day. I see other waterfowl; other ducks, Canada Geese, loons, cormorants, and mergansers. I spot a seal once or twice a week and an eagle occasionally. I see something every day.
I had lots of wonderful new experiences on Orcas Island.
There were many good things that came from this winter. I heard a lot of new music, wonderful music I never would have found out about if I hadn’t been living here. I learned to appreciate the beauty of the simple and the commonplace. I was able to sharpen my digital processing skills and worked hard on wellness. I’ve enjoyed my time here. I have no regrets.
Learning to appreciate the beauty of the simple and commonplace
Well, maybe one. I wish I’d spent at least one more day on San Juan Island. San Juan Island has a lot of the things that I was missing here on Orcas. I saw wildlife – rabbits and foxes and shorebirds.
San Juan Island has the coastal trails and beaches.
San Juan Island has lots of public beaches and coastal trails, too. All the things I was missing so badly on Orcas, I found on San Juan Island. That was one new experience that gave me a much-needed attitude adjustment!
The sun finally came out!
Then two weeks ago the sun came out. A month ago I was more than ready to leave this place. I was committed for another month, and needed that time for my many projects, but mentally and emotionally I was more than ready to go. But now I feel like I could use a couple more weeks here, to do things I’ve left undone. Such a change in attitude, brought about mostly by sunshine, low tides, and a short ferry ride to another island!
Attitude adjustment: contentment brought about by seeing the sun.
In a couple of days I’ll be hitting the road, off to enjoy more new experiences, even though most of the roads I’ll be traveling I’ve traveled before. It’s still a different day, a different time, always a new experience. You can never step into the same river twice, right? Everything changes.
You can never step into the same river twice.
Perhaps that’s the most important lesson for me to take away from my Orcas experience. Everything changes. It’s always a new experience. Approach every moment with a beginner’s mind and you will be filled with joy instead of disappointment as you savor your new experiences.
