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.
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.
What does spring mean to me? That’s the question posed by Sofia of Photographias in this week’s Lens-Artists Photography Challenge. For me, spring equals two things: road tripping and wildflowers.
Ajo Lilies in Anza Borrego State Park
This way of celebrating spring started for me when I used to work winters as a ranger in Death Valley National Park. There, I fell in love with the desert spring bloom. You would not think a land that averaged less than 2 inches of rain a year would have many wildflowers. Surprisingly though, in more years than not, it does. Due to the great diversity of landscapes and elevations, even in a dry year you can find some wildflowers somewhere.
Wildflowers in Death Valley’s Saline Valley
It can be one of the most astounding natural events you’ll ever witness in a good year. During a Superbloom, the flowers start in January and just keep coming. Dry, rocky, barren land is suddenly completely carpeted with color. The variety is phenomenal. They are so thick on the ground that you can hardly take a step without crushing a half dozen blooms. Once I saw a real superbloom, I never wanted to miss another.
Superbloom in Joshua Tree
So I started following the bloom. I would spend a lot of time in February and March traveling between my two favorite desert wildflower spots, Death Valley and Anza-Borrego State Park, and spending a few days at Joshua Tree National Park along the way.
The wildflowers should be amazing in Carrizo Plain by mid-April.
Slowly starting my trip back home to Alaska in early April, I would try to visit Carrizo Plain National Monument. In a good year, this is the best place ever to see wildflowers. Despite the hype that is out there, this year is not a superbloom year. For that, you need a good soaker storm in the fall to get the seeds going. California did not receive all that rain until January. Carrizo Plain is starting to get some color but no big displays yet. I think it could be fantastic in a couple more weeks, though, as more and more flowers germinated in January bloom.
Wildflowers could be incredible in the Sierra Nevada foothills, too.
Traveling north, I edge along the western foothills of the Sierra and make a fly-by visit to Yosemite’s waterfalls, another spring phenomenon. I think the Sierra foothills are where the real superbloom will happen this spring.
Redwood Sorrel
I would continue north through the Redwood Sorrel and Trilliums of northern California to my last big spring wildflower extravaganza, in the Siskiyou Mountains of southern Oregon. Since there were very few wildflowers blooming further north, I would beeline home from there, going back into winter along the way.
Arrowleaf Balsamroot in the Siskiyou Mountains
This year is a little different. I have spent the entire winter in one spot, northern Washington’s Orcas Island. I’ve kept my carbon footprint low, only using two tanks of gas through the entire winter.
Red Warrior
But that’s about to change. Although there are domestic flowers beginning to bloom here now – crocuses, hellebore, fruit trees – there are no wildflowers. As I said last week, domestic flowers don’t thrill me. I need a wildflower fix before I head back into winter.
Fawn Lily
So starting April 2, I’m road tripping down to the closest place where I can see good wildflowers, the Siskiyous in southern Oregon. I’m in love with the trees of that region also, so I am really looking forward to it. I’ll visit a few friends and a few beaches along the way down, too.
Shooting Stars
When I start heading home from there, I may detour into the southern Cascades for a day or two in search of mossy waterfalls to photograph. It all depends on how far spring has progressed by then.
I’ll be looking for waterfalls, too.
As I move north of the border, it’s time to start looking for spring wildlife instead of spring flowers. If I take the AlCan Highway, I may be rewarded by sightings of Woodland Caribou and the rare Stone Sheep. I will certainly see Wood Bison on that route. If I take the Cassiar, I will probably catch a glimpse of a bear or two.
Stone Sheep
By the time I reach the Yukon, I will have traveled back into winter. Well, it will look a bit like winter anyhow. Actually, it will be that in-between season, known in the Northland as Breakup.
It’s still winter in the Yukon in April.
Breakup is a rough time to try to travel off the paved roads. The snow is soft and soggy and will collapse and suck you in. It’s slick and icy in the morning from all the melted water. Wherever it’s not snowy, it’s muddy. The rivers, no longer frozen, are running full, and full of ice. Springtime in Alaska.
But there are signs of Breakup.
There’s a third thing spring means to me. Home. It won’t be long before I’m home, back in McCarthy, trying to figure out how to negotiate the lake in my ATV trail and the downed trees on my walking path. But that’s another story for another time. Right now it’s spring!
