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.
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.
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.
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!
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.
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)
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.
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.”
I tried to keep it down to 12, but I couldn’t. Here is a baker’s dozen of my favorite photos of 2021.
It was really hard to cut it down to just a baker’s dozen. Reviewing the images I’ve captured over the last year, I realized that what I had were favorite photographic moments, not individual photos.
You know, when you’re really in the zone, actively practicing the Art of Seeing? You might take a whole series of shots and not be able to choose one in the series as the best. That’s how I felt about a lot of these images.
I tried to disqualify images I’d already published in this blog (mostly!) So if you read my last few blog posts, you’ll find a few more favorites I wish I could include.
Despite all the darkness and cold, there are some things about winter in Alaska that are really special and that I miss when I’m not there, kind of a reward for those who tough it out. One is the aurora, of course. Another is the special pink sunset/twilight glow in the sky on certain cold, clear nights. Although I got lots of great alpenglow, I didn’t see as many pink light evenings as I have in past winters. But I did get it one evening when I photographed the Knik Glacier.
I went to Homer to see a few birds this spring. The migration was a bit disappointing, but I did get some wonderful eagle shots!
This is my favorite flower shot for 2021. I didn’t shoot nearly as many flowers as in years past, since I stayed in Alaska and didn’t follow the bloom. But I saw two brand new flowers I’d never noticed before in a few ponds along the McCarthy Road, White Water Lilies and Wild Calla.
It was October. It was not yet prime time for birds at Bosque del Apache. Due to the drought, the ponds on the edge of the refuge that are usually the go-to spots for bird photographers trying to catch the spectacle of the Bosque were dry. I wasn’t expecting much. I only had one day to spare. But the Bosque is a magical place and doesn’t disappoint. Having fewer sources of water concentrated the birds that were there. I was surprised to realize that three of my favorite photos for the entire year were taken on that day.
Even though I published the sunrise photo in a prior post, I had to include it since it was probably my second-most favorite photo for the year. Also, I processed it a little differently this time and think it does a better job of capturing the feel of sunrise on the Bosque.
As I slowly drove by, I realized that all those “dead leaves” on that tree were birds. Then they took off and I was swept up by a cloud of birds. The Bosque is bird heaven!
This might be my favorite photo of 2021. Except it’s one of those photographic moments, one of a series… I like the vertical images I captured of this scene a lot, too! Both this image and the feature image were taken on the beach at San Simeon in California. The island the cormorants are roosting on is part of the California Coastal National Monument. It is usually just offshore except during a very low tide, like this one.
I absolutely fell in love with the manzanitas and madrones of southern Oregon in November and December. I can’t choose my very favorite madrone/manzanita photo. I have about 20 favorites. But they were my favorite thing to photograph all year. So here’s one I haven’t published.
I couldn’t choose a favorite detail shot of that forest, either. I have about a dozen favorites of bark, lichens, mushrooms… But this is definitely one of those favorites.
This is definitely my favorite abstract of the year, though. Can you guess what it is?
This final shot conveys my thoughts and hopes for 2022, that the light burns through the fog of the last couple of crazy years and brings us all many happy blessings. Welcome 2022!
The very first time I saw Death Valley the first thought that popped into my head was “Boy, but this is a barren landscape!” But right on the heels of that thought came a second, this one attached to a sense of wonder – But Oh! The colors!
So this week I’d like to share a different kind of rock art with you, Mother Nature’s masterpieces. I’m going to get a little artsy-fartsy and share some abstract photography, portraits of those fantastic colors, patterns and texture that can be found in every corner of the national park.
I’m convinced that every color of the rainbow can be found somewhere in Death Valley’s rocks. I’m so convinced that when I was a ranger there, I played a little game as an icebreaker, to slow my visitors down on my Nameless Canyon hikes and sharpen their powers of observation. I picked up a random assortment of paint sample chips at the hardware store. I included lots of variety – purples, blues, yellows, pinks, browns, tans, greys – no two colors exactly the same. It was a big box hardware store. I got LOTS of paint chips.
Then I cut them all to a uniform size and put them in a bag. Each hiker had to blindly thrust their hand in the bag and pull out three paint chips, then find its EXACT match in the landscape we traveled through.
There was a lot of eye-rolling and exclamations of “I’ll never find THIS color!” I did end up removing 2 or 3 shades of blue and one particular red chip. True black was a surprisingly difficult color to find. But nearly every time, each hiker would eventually find all 3 of their colors, no matter what they picked out of the bag.
Some areas are more colorful than others, world famous for their colors, it’s true. But even the hills that look a uniform baked brown from the road reveal their loveliness in the layers and shades you will find if you get a little closer.
When you delve deeper, all those colors, layers and patterns reveal a plethora of geologic events and eras. If only the rocks could talk, what stories they could tell!
So it doesn’t matter if it hasn’t rained all year. It doesn’t matter if it’s a poor flower year, or the wrong season. You can visit this national park and still see a brilliant display of color, because Death Valley rocks!
Thank you, Ann-Christine, for bringing us this week’s Lens-Artist’s Photo Challenge, “You Pick It”. Also thanks to Tina for the art inspiration and Amy for the desert rocks inspiration.
Art exhibits by Mother Nature – abstracts composed of soft, sensuous, sculpted curves – ephemeral, ever-changing sand dunes. When I saw that Ann-Christine had chosen “soft” as the theme for this week’s Lens-Artists Photo Challenge, the graceful contour of a sand dune was the first image to come to mind.
When I worked at Death Valley, I got to know sand dunes well. Although only about 1% of Death Valley is covered with dunes, the sand has captured the public imagination and become the iconic symbol of Death Valley to many. The park has 5 major dune fields and a couple of minor ones as well.
I learned that even though some dune fields may look similar, each one is unique, with its own ecosystem. Since the dune fields are separated by many many miles of other types of habitat, they may have endemic plants or animals that live nowhere else. Each one is worth a visit.
Mesquite Flat Sand Dunes
The Mesquite Flat dunes are the ones that most people think of when it comes to Death Valley. It’s the largest dune field in the park, and the easiest to get to, right off the highway. Mesquite hummocks harbor an interesting assortment of wildlife. It’s a great place to look for tracks. Go early in the morning for the best insights into the lives of the creatures that come out and play at night after all the tourists are gone. Then beat the crowds and hike up to the top of the tallest dune. Take your shoes off and feel that soft, soft sand, walking barefoot for the final approach. This is another reason to get an early start. The sand can get HOT later.
The Mesquite Dunes are the best dunes in the park for sunrise and sunset photography. I love these dunes and their firm yet soft sands for meditation and yoga, too. I have a couple of spots I’m fond of that are easy to get to but a bit off the beaten track, for when I need to get away from the crowds of visitors for some alone time.
Mesquite Dunes are a great place to go at night, too. Stargazing there is phenomenal, and nothing beats a full moon hike in the dunes. You might even see some of the critters that leave those footprints behind. Be aware in the warmer months that some of those critters are sidewinders. Look for their weird J-shaped tracks to see if they’re up and about yet when you go.
Saline Valley Dunes
This is the smallest and the lowest of the major dune fields. It has the whitest sand. It’s my least favorite. That’s probably because I have not spent enough time there to get to know them well. I’ve only visited once. It was a windy day, so I couldn’t take many pictures. I was only there an hour when a major sandstorm blew in. I saw it coming and fled.
By the time I reached the crest of the valley, it turned into a real haboob, zero visibility, the kind of sandstorm you see in movies about the Sahara. That may have colored my impression of these dunes.
The Saline Dunes are in the difficult to reach Saline Valley. Except on those rare occasions when the road has been recently graded, you will need 4-wheel drive to get there.
Eureka Dunes
The Eureka Dunes contain the tallest sand dune in California, literally a mountain of sand. These sands are special, too. The Eureka Dunes are singing dunes. When the moisture content is just right any vibration – from a hiker’s footprint to a strong gust of wind – may set off a low, rhythmic rumbling throughout the dune, growing and building.
It sounds a bit like a jet engine. But it just may be a real jet engine. Hotshot pilots from the China Lake Naval Base play in the airspace above the Eureka Valley, occasionally flying very low.
The Eureka Dunes harbor an amazing little plant kingdom, including three endemic plants that live nowhere else. The showiest of these plants is the Eureka Primrose. In a good year, the lower reaches of the dune field may be carpeted with these flowers. Alas, I’ve never gotten the timing right to catch that.
Part of the reason is the road. Sometimes it’s just high clearance, but at other times all that sand creates some of the worst washboard in the park. It’s far away from everywhere, too, taking many hours of driving whether you come in from the east or the west. This is not a day trip! If you do make it in, there’s a great little primitive camping area with a pit toilet and fire rings available at the base of the tallest dune.
Panamint Dunes
You have to work for this one, but it’s well worth it. There are 5 miles of rough, high clearance dirt road back road to traverse to get near these dunes. And once you get those 5 miles in, you still have a 3-mile hike to reach them. These obstacles keep the Panamint Dunes quiet and untrammeled, some of the best dunes in the park. There may be some beautiful and unusual flowers on the approach, too. I’ve found Lilac Sunbonnets and Broomrape, two of my favorites that I seldom get a chance to see.
Ibex Dunes
They’re not the biggest, or the tallest, or the most popular, but these dunes are my personal favorite. Another high clearance road that can sometimes be 4-wheel drive gets you close, but anyway you look at it you’ve got to hike in a mile to reach these dunes.
It’s a beautiful hike. The Ibex Dunes are full of life. One of the inhabitants is the rare and endangered Mojave Fringe-Toed Lizard. Look for sand verbena and paper-bag bush in the springtime.
Because of the fragile ecosystems, motor vehicle use is prohibited on all of Death Valley’s dunes. The wind may blow your tracks away, but it won’t bring back the plants and animals damaged by your vehicle. So go to nearby Dumont Dunes or Big Dune if you want to tear it up with your dune buggy or dirt bike.
Soft and forgiving, dunes are a wonderful place to explore and play, a great place to bring the kids or commune with the Great All. Check them out the next time you’re in the desert or at the seashore!
Stripes are easy, I thought. There are lots of stripes in nature. I thought of the multi-layered sedimentary rock that makes up so many of the spectacular landscapes of the desert Southwest.
There are lines of light and shadow.
You see stripes everywhere.
Checks, not so much.
After all, Mother Nature is not really into squares and rectangles much. That’s more of a human thing, in most cases.
But there are exceptions. The guinea fowl is the exception in this case. They totally sport the checked look in their wardrobe.