When I think Easter I think of springtime and flowers, even though in most of the places I’ve lived those flowers are still a couple of months away. They’re not this year, though, as I’m in the California desert, chasing the wildflowers. And one of my favorite desert wildflowers is the Ajo Lily, also known as the Desert Lily.
Arroyo del Salado campground
When it comes to lilies, I really lucked out this year. I’ve been spending a lot of time this past month in Anza Borrego State Park, staying in the Arroyo del Salado primitive campground. And Arroyo del Salado has been Desert Lily Central.
A few lilies in one of my campsites in Arroyo del Salado
I thought I’d share a few of those lilies with you, being that it’s Easter and all.
Desert Lilies grow and change, evolving over time.
I think one of the reasons Desert Lilies are a favorite is that each plant is so unique, such an individual. That’s not the case with all wildflowers. Sand Verbena, for instance. Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love Sand Verbena, one of the sweetest scented flowers in the desert. But one patch of sand verbena does not look that different from another. Lilies are different.
Sand Verbena flowers are just not as unique as Desert Lilies!
Maybe it’s because desert lilies do not grow as thickly as some other desert wildflowers. Like me, these plants need their space! They’re not “city” flowers, they avoid the crowds. They prefer room to grow and express their individuality.
They’re not antisocial, they just don’t want to be crowded!
Like people, they grow and change over time, as all their blossoms don’t bloom at once. They stretch it out and take their time. It’s fun to watch each individual plant evolve.
Desert Lilies in Arroyo del Salado
The desert lilies aren’t the only wildflowers blooming in Anza Borrego. I’ve been spending my time in Anza Borrego because, during March, more desert wildflowers were blooming there than anywhere else.
Wildflowers on Henderson Canyon Road, Anza Borrego State Park
Within the last few days, though, some of the other wildflower hotspots, like the south end of Joshua Tree National Park, have finally started putting on a show. Chia, Desert Dandelions and Mexican Poppies are filling the fields. Look in the washes for nice displays of Canterbury Bells and Chuparosa. Further north in Wiilson Canyon Wooly Daisies, Tickseed and Bladderpod are lighting up the landscape in gold.
Canterbury Bells in Joshua Tree National Park
I’m looking forward to a very colorful April as I slowly make my way back North, following the flowers. But for right now, spending Easter with the Desert Lilies of Anza Borrego is a perfect place to be!
How do warm colors make you feel? For me, they bring a smile to my face, excitement and happiness. I often use a warming filter on my camera because I like my colors a little warmer in most instances. This may come as no surprise to you, as I scurry south every winter to get more of the warmth! My favorite time to do photography is the late afternoon and early evening. It’s not only that I’m too lazy to get up early, I prefer the warm light!
Bladderpod in Joshua Tree National Park
The desert is full of warm colors. Even in the wintertime, you can find warm colors in the sunsets, the red rock, even the birds. I’ve been seeing a lot of those warm colors this past week.
Even the birds have warm colors in the desert.
As for warm wildflower colors, not so much, but there are a few.
Red rock is a warm color you can always find in the desert.
The warmest color in Saguaro National Park’s foliage is the yellow fruits from last year’s barrel cactus bloom.
The warmest color in Saguaro National Park this week
But there is one flower blooming in Saguaro, the delicate pink Fairy Duster.
Fairy Duster
Organ Pipe was greener. It looks to be a good bloom there in a couple of weeks. Right now Ocotillo is what’s blooming.
Ocotillo is blooming in Organ Pipe.
Here’s a closer look at those beautiful warm red flowers.
Ocotillo blooms
There was a carpet of green from the Sonoran into California, giving me high hopes for a good flower season in a couple of weeks. But right now the only thing blooming in that vast expanse was Brittlebush.
Brittlebush has started to bloom throughout the deserts.
I was underwhelmed and a bit disappointed when I got to Joshua Tree National Park. I had expected more.
Bladderpod
Even the Brittlebush was sparse. There were a couple of new flowers blooming, Bladderpod and Chuparosa. These are both perennial bushes, as are Fairy Dusters, Brittlebush and Ocotillo. Annual flowers are practically non-existent still.
Chuparosa
I did find a few Canterbury Bells in Joshua Tree, but that was it. The carpet of green I’d noticed in the Sonoran desert was missing here. By this time of year, there should have been a haze of fuzzy green, the seedlings of the annuals, covering the roadsides. I don’t know if the southern part of Joshua Tree missed the storms, or if it’s been too cold, but don’t expect a big bloom in Joshua Tree this spring. Very little is even sprouting there now.
Perennials like Brittlebush are doing well.
A little bit of good news, though. Reports from Anza Borrego indicate that it should be a good wildflower season there. It’s already starting, especially the Sand Verbena, the sweetest-smelling flower in the desert. I’ve seen fields full of them here in the Palm Springs area, too.
Not really a warm color, but Sand Verbena is what’s blooming!
The latest reports I’ve found from Death Valley are a couple of weeks old, but state that sprouts are coming up, so I’m hopeful. I will be visiting both Anza Borrego and Death Valley next week and will have a better idea then of what this season will be like.
Will the sand dunes be the only warm colors in Death Valley when I get there?
So it looks like the flowers may get going a little late – March will probably be the best month to see the desert bloom this year. Until then, enjoy the warm colors wherever you are, wherever you find them – in the rocks, in the sunset – but keep your eyes open, warm colors in the flowers are coming soon!
Red rocks in Organ Pipe National Park
Thank you, Egidio, for bringing us this week’s Lens-Artists Photography Challenge, Warm Colors.
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.
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.
For this week’s Lens-Artists Photography Challenge, Patti invites us to explore empty spaces in our photography. Empty spaces can draw more attention to our subject, as it does in this wildflower photo.
Empty spaces draw attention to your subject.
In wildlife photography, leaving a lot of empty space in front of your subject gives them room to move.
Empty space gives this meadowlark plenty of room to strut his stuff.
Or empty spaces can be used in landscape photography to evoke a mood or illustrate the vastness or wildness of a place. Possibly my favorite place to capture emptiness in landscape photography is Death Valley National Park.
There’s a lot of empty in Death Valley’s landscapes.
Empty spaces can accentuate the vastness of a landscape.
The empty space in this image highlights the vastness of the landscape
Including a lonely road can evoke a mood of solitude and remoteness.
A lonely road can evoke a feeling of solitude and adventure.
Since many of the most exciting nameless canyons in Death Valley are reached by hiking up an open wash, these wide open spaces create a sense of adventure and exploration in me.
A canyon in the Grapevine Mountains
But by far my favorite empty spaces to photograph in Death Valley are the sand dunes.
Mesquite Sand Dunes
With five major dune fields contained within the park, there are a lot to choose from.
Panamint Dunes
Emptiness can not only emphasize distance, it can also highlight the sheer massiveness of certain landforms.
Shock and awe – Empty landscapes can take your breath away.
Empty spaces don’t need to bring attention to a particular subject. They can also be used to bring attention to something more ephemeral, like color, as shown in the sunset colors of the feature image, captured in White Sands National Park. Empty spaces also make great palettes for abstract photography. Here is my favorite meditation image, a celebration of emptiness.
All is Illusion
Death Valley has been on my mind a lot lately. A huge storm in late August dropped over a year’s worth of precipitation in one day. When the park finally reopened 2 months later, the basin was still filled with water,
There’s water still in the Badwater Salt Flats.
If there are enough little rain events in the upcoming weeks to keep seedlings moist, that big storm could lead to great things for 2024. It IS an El Nino year. Dare I hope? Could we actually have a superbloom? It’s possible. Stay tuned. I’ll be watching the weather closely. I’m keeping my dance card open, not committing to any housesits for 2024 yet. I’m hoping that instead, maybe this year, I can once again follow the flowers.
Can you imagine this wide open empty space filled with flowers? I can.
