Spring!

Spring in Alaska

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.

Anza Borrego State Park
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.

Death Valley Wildflowers
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.

Spring wildflowers Joshua Tree National Park
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.

Spring wildflowers Carrizo Plain National Monument
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.

Sierra Nevada spring wildflowers
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.

Redwoods National Park
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.

Spring wildflowers Siskiyou Mountains
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
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
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.

Spring wildflowers
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.

Spring waterfall
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 in Muncho Lake Provincial Park
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.

Kluane National Park
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.

Kluane Lake
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!

Wrangell-St. Elias National Park
Home Sweet Home!

Alone Time

Alone Time

“I live in that solitude which is painful in youth, but delicious in the years of maturity. ”                                                                                                                                     –Albert Einstein

I think I’ve had more alone time this winter than I’ve ever had, in any season, in my entire life.

I didn’t plan it that way. The people I am housesitting for said it would be okay if I had guests, and I put the invitation out there. At least half a dozen friends and family members expressed an interest. Ocean-front property on Orcas Island? Sure!  Sounds like fun! But in one way or another, somehow all those plans fell through.

Alone time in the San Juan Islands
I’ve had lots of alone time on Orcas Island.

Even though I’ve been on Orcas Island for four months, I haven’t made new friends. I’ve put out a few feelers – introduced myself to neighbors, attended a few concerts and other town social events, entered an exhibition. Everyone has been nice, I’ve had some interesting conversations, but that’s as far as it goes.

Everyone has full lives. They have no reason to go out of their way to befriend a here today/gone tomorrow transient housesitter. It’s kind of a waste of their precious time, even if she does seem to be a nice lady! I get it.

Everyone needs alone time.
Everyone needs alone time.

I must admit I could have tried harder. Although I am outgoing and find it easy to talk to strangers in my work persona as a park ranger, in my personal life I’m kind of shy. I didn’t put myself in any situation that would take me out of my comfort zone. I didn’t get an outside job. I didn’t go to the bar.

The truth is, I haven’t tried harder to make new friends because I really have been enjoying my solitude!

Egret at Moss Landing, California
We need solitude for reflection and contemplation.

“Solitude is creativity’s best friend, and solitude is refreshment for our souls.”  -Naomi Judd

Everyone needs alone time. Solitude sparks creativity. It can renew your soul. It allows time for daydreams and imagination, reflection and invention.

Carmel Beach, CA
There is freedom in solitude.

There is freedom in solitude.  No one to tell you what you should be doing or where you should be going. Instead, it’s all up to you.

Death Valley National Park
Me and my shadow

Some activities require solitude. Reading, writing, and meditating come to mind. There are other activities where going solo brings immense rewards but at the price of much greater risk. For instance, as a park ranger, I often have to tell people that they should hike with others. It’s much safer. Yet I, and most rangers I know, revel in solitary treks. It’s very important to understand and acknowledge the risks of solitude and to be aware of the possible consequences of your actions when pursuing these kinds of activities solo.

Cape Disappointment State Park, Washington
Going solo can be risky.
“Solitude is not something you must hope for in the future. Rather, it is a deepening of the present, and unless you look for it in the present you will never find it. “                                                                                                       -Thomas Merton

For many people, it’s not easy to get that alone time we all need. The demands of work, family and friends can consume our lives. Solitude becomes a rare and precious event. If this sounds like you, it’s especially important to carve yourself out some alone time, even if you have to make a date with yourself and schedule it.

Sanderling alone time
Even if you usually run with the flock, you need to carve yourself out some alone time.

“If you’re lonely when you’re alone, you’re in bad company.”                                           – Jean-Paul Sartre

There’s a big difference between solitude and loneliness. Solitude is the positive application of alone time. Loneliness and depression happen when you dwell on the negative aspects of being alone. Solitude has a purpose.

Mendocino beach sunset
Loneliness is the dark side of solitude.

“I find it wholesome to be alone the greater part of the time.”                                                                                                                                                                 – Henry David Thoreau

Some people need more solitude than others. They need their space. I’m in that category.  So are many of my friends back home in McCarthy. A friend of mine once said, “McCarthy is where loners go to be social.”

Oystercatcher alone time
Some odd birds like me need extra alone time.

McCarthy is very social in the summer, but most residents deal with a lot of alone time in the winter. I find it interesting that two of my friends from McCarthy have also written about the pleasures of solitude this week. Jon Erdman of the Wrangell Mountains Center wrote a post about the effects of solitude.  Kristen Link is a natural history artist and science illustrator. One of the prompts in her latest newsletter encourages other artists to draw what silence looks like. I don’t draw, but the following image is my answer to that prompt.

Long Beach, WA
This is what Silence looks like.

Perhaps that is why I feel okay about my season of solitude. It’s winter, a natural time to draw resources inward, to go quiet, and be dormant. The quiet time is necessary for future growth.

Moonstone Beach, Trinidad, CA
Alone time is necessary.

Spring will soon be here, a time for new growth, new connections, the ground prepared and spirit renewed by that season of dormancy. In April I will be traveling, embracing old friends and new experiences. I look forward to my spring travels, but I will also cherish this final month of alone time.

Thank you to Ann-Christine of Leya for this week’s Len-Artists Photo Challenge, Alone Time.

Goldstream Beach, Redwood National Park
It’s wonderful when your footsteps are the only ones on the beach.

 

 

 

Soft and Dreamy – Reducing Clarity

Port Orford, Oregon

Flowers

I’m pushing my boundaries, leaving my comfort zone, by going soft and dreamy for this week’s post. Reducing clarity to create softness is a photographic technique I seldom (almost never) use. I’m one who is always going for more sharpness instead.

Soft and dreamy is a good way to go for some flower images.

It’s a technique, though, that I should probably use more often. Reducing clarity to make an image soft and dreamy is especially effective with some flower images.

I really like what reducing clarity did for this Joshua Tree blossom image.

Reducing clarity and using a mask to sharpen part of the image is great for changing depth of field, too.

Reducing clarity with a sharpening mask over the main subject can create a shallow depth of field.

Foggy conditions naturally reduce clarity without any additional processing.

Fog naturally softens images.

Trees

As I played around with reducing clarity, I discovered that I really love what this technique did to a few of my tree images.

Soft and dreamy maple tree

I was able to make some of my tree images soft and dreamy, giving them a painterly effect.

I love the painterly effect losing clarity had on this image.

The following image was always one of my favorites, but I could never get it as sharp as I needed to. It was always a little too busy, too. But reducing clarity gives it the look of an impressionist painting. I love it!

I love soft and dreamy on this image!

Waterfalls

One place where reducing clarity is especially impressive is in waterfall images.

I love what reducing clarity does for running water.

It makes the water silkier and fuller. You can see this effect in the following 2 images.

Reducing clarity can make running water silkier and fuller.

Perhaps you don’t want the whole image soft, though. In the following photo, I used a mask to soften the water but left the rest sharp.

Rustic Falls on Orcas Island

If you want to obscure a busy background by making the image soft and dreamy but also want to preserve some detail in the foreground, you can use a few different tricks to make that happen. I used a couple of techniques in the following series.

Waves

Waves are also fun to make soft and dreamy. Here’s another series.

By reducing clarity, texture, and dehaze, I transformed this ocean sunset into an almost abstract watercolor.

Way soft and dreamy

Landscapes

As I mentioned a couple of weeks ago in Monochromes, I usually try to stay realistic with my photos. But this winter is all about getting out of my comfort zone, both physically and creatively. And actually, reducing clarity works particularly well with the Orcas Island landscape.

Reducing clarity works well with the Orcas Island landscape

Reducing clarity and going monochrome turned this flat, boring photo taken in terrible midday light into an image I can be proud of.

Quite a different mood from midday flat light.

Thank you to Bren of Brashley Photography for this week’s Lens-Artists Photo Challenge, Bringing Softness. You’ve helped me to stretch and learn a new technique!

Soft and dreamy on Orcas Island
Port Orford, Oregon

North Meets South – Changes In Latitudes

Denali National Park

North meets South annually in my life.  I migrate. As beautiful as Alaska is in the winter, like the birds and the whales, I prefer to head for warmer climes when the days get shorter.

North meets South in flowers
In the following pairs of flowers, can you tell which is North and which is South?

For years I worked in Death Valley National Park in the winter. People used to tell me, “Wow, you go from one extreme to the other! But I didn’t see it that way.

Death Valley National Park
Death Valley or Denali?

Sure, there are big differences.  In some years I was moving from a park that contained the highest point in North America, Denali, to a park that held the lowest point, the Badwater Basin. But I was actually avoiding the extremes through my travels- escaping the cold of winter in Alaska and dodging the heat of summer in Death Valley.

Blackish Oxytrope
Plants in both places use many of the same strategies to survive.

The predominant colors were different, it’s true – shades of green in Denali and shades of brown in the desert. But the landscapes were surprisingly similar.

North meets South in flowers
That’s why they look so similar.

In fact, there were far more similarities than there were differences. North meets South, sharing many of the same attributes. When I first applied for a job in Death Valley, an Alaskan friend told me that I’d find it more like home than anywhere else in the lower 48. He was right.

Panamint Valley
The landscapes aren’t all that different.

Immense, open panoramas abound in both.  The vastness cannot be described, it needs to be experienced. They are landscapes that make you aware of your own insignificance. Death Valley is the largest park in the contiguous United States. Denali is even bigger.  In most places, these landscapes seem endless because there are few to no trees. When I worked in Denali, I lived at the Toklat Road Camp, 50 miles into the park. I was surrounded by alpine tundra, not trees.

Denali National Park
They’re both vast.

There are parallels in many of the geological features.  Both contain rugged mountain ranges divided by wide valleys. Alluvial fans and glacial outwash plains look surprisingly similar. The raw, naked geology is exciting. The stories that the rocks tell are so much easier to understand in barren landscapes like these.

North Meets South
A nameless canyon in the Black Mountains

One aspect that delights me is that both parks are filled with countless nameless canyons to explore. These landscapes invite you to wander.

North Meets South
A nameless canyon on Polychrome Mountain

Sometimes you find similar treasures as you explore these canyons. Did these horns come from Death Valley or Denali?

Dall's Sheep horns Denali National Park
Denali or Death Valley?

One way North meets South is through the commonalities of their wildflowers. Both Denali and Death Valley can have phenomenal flower seasons. And plants in both parks use similar adaptations to survive in their harsh environments.

rare penstemon found on Lee's Flat
Both parks host an incredible variety of wildflower species.

Both Denali and Death Valley pose extremely difficult challenges for the plants and animals that live there. Although one place is scorching hot and the other bitterly cold, they share an element that amplifies the effects of both extremes – wind.

Common Lousewort
They’re not all belly flowers!

In both places, the growing season is short but intense. In both, you’ll also find that a lot of flowers grow low to the ground.  Belly flowers. They often grow closely in mounds or in mats covering the ground, working together to avoid the drying effects of the relentless wind.

Purple Mat
Growing low to the ground in a mound can protect the flowers from wind and conserve water.

Many plants in both places are covered with fine hairs, which keep Denali’s flowers a little warmer and protect Death Valley’s from the harsh sun.

Denali or Death Valley?

The biggest draw for me personally is that both Denali and Death Valley are incredibly wild, something I’m aching for on tame, benevolent Orcas Island this winter. There is something about the harshness of those landscapes that speaks to my soul. And of course, they’re also both awe-inspiringly beautiful.

Denali National Park
Denali National Park

Thank you, Amy, for this week’s Lens-Artists Photo Challenge, East Meets West (or North Meets South).

Death Valley National Park
Death Valley National Park

Monochrome: Shadows and Reflections

McCarthy Road

My approach to photography has generally been pretty traditional. My photos are usually realistic, no frills or special effects except perhaps a little color saturation, which I’ve loved since the old-school film days when I used Velvia slide film and underexposed half a stop to get that rich kind of color.

Monochrome reflections
Reflections on the McCarthy Road

But for this week’s Lens-Artists Photo Challenge, Patti asks us to share monochrome images with reflections or interesting shadows. I have a few monochrome images in my files, and found some that work well with this theme. But I’ve had a bit of fun re-imagining some of my polychrome images, too.

Cape Disappointment State Park
Seagull sunset at Beard’s Hollow, Cape Disappointment State Park

Here are a shadow (silhouette) and a reflection shot from Washington’s Long Beach Peninsula. They’re all about the birds.

Long Beach Peninsula
Sanderling in black & white

You might have noticed that the seagull scenic wasn’t quite black & white, more of a blue. Monochrome means one color, not greyscale. Here are a couple of colorful monochrome images. Continuing on the bird theme…

blue monochrome image - living sculpture
a natural living sculpture

Williams, Oregon
Christmas morning, 2021

monochrome Bandon Beach sunset
Bandon Beach

I think the beach may be my favorite place to make monochrome images.

Secret Beach
Secret Beach reflections

But there are so many nice reflections on the McCarthy Road, too.

McCarthy Road
One from the road, the McCarthy Road in Wrangell-St. Elias National Park & Preserve.

Here are a couple of pond lily reflections from the McCarthy Road, one in infrared, one in standard greyscale, under different lighting, portraying very different moods.

Pond lily monochrome
Infrared in late afternoon light

Wrangell-St. Elias National Park & Preserve
Standard grey scale at midday

I transformed a pink dawn moonset at New Mexico’s Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge into a nighttime moonrise by going monochrome in this image.

Monochrome moonset on the Bosque
B&W moonset on the Bosque looks like a moonrise.

As I look over my catalog, I see a lot of reflections and a lot of interesting silhouettes, but not that many interesting shadows. Shadows can accentuate texture and be quite dramatic in their own right, but I guess I don’t readily “see” their potential when out shooting. Too much of that polychrome mindset, instead of exploring the possibilities of monochrome. Something I’ll have to work on, now that I’m aware of it. But here is an image where strong shadows help to create an impression. In this phot of Jug Handle Arch near Moab, the shadows accentuate the texture and power of the rock as well as the harshness of the desert sun.

Jughandle Arch
Jughandle Arch

My last image is a bit strange. I was exploring the ghost town of Goldfield, Nevada, which has an infamously haunted hotel. I peered into the window of the derelict building and spied an upright piano sitting amongst the rubble. I really wanted to capture a photo of the piano, but the glare from the midday sun and reflections from the brick wall obscured the view. The image I ended up with, though, looks uncannily like the piano is a reflection or even a mirage, oddly appropriate and haunting for a ghost town.

Goldfield, Nevada
Ghost piano

Thank you, Patti, for this week’s Lens-Artists Photo Challenge, Shadows and Reflections  in Monochrome.

 

Messages

Petroglyph State Park

Sometimes messages are loud and clear and easy to read. We especially try to do this with warnings.

McCarthy Road
Getting to McCarthy is not always easy.

Sometimes they need a little interpretation.

Wrangell-St. Elias National Park & Preserve
Residents of the Wrangells really like their guns.

McCarthy, Alaska
But are generally kind, loving people.

Sometimes we read messages from the past, but can no longer understand them.

Dinosaur National Park
These petroglyphs are nearly a thousand years old.

El Morro National Monument
What does this mean?

Sometimes what might seem like a message is just a coincidence.

Radium Hot Springs, B.C.
Truth in advertising?

But sometimes we think a clear message is just a coincidence.

McCarthy Road mudslide
Melting permafrost due to climate change is trouble for Alaska roads.

Nature sends us lots of messages. Some are easy to read.

messages in the sand
A Kangaroo Rat came by here last night.

Wrangell-St. Elias National Park & Preserve
Termination dust (snow) means it’s time for snowbirds to fly.

This message I read loud and clear every autumn.

The view from my front porch
Leaves are falling all around
It’s time I was on my way

Sometimes Nature’s messages need a little interpretation. For instance, when an animal turns its back to you like this, they’re saying, “I’m pretending you’re not there. Now go away and leave me alone!”

Animal messages
Leave me alone!

Or when the fireweed reaches the top of its stem, it means summer is over.

Summer is over message
Summer is ending!

We ignore some of nature’s messages at our own peril.

Denali National Park
Be bear aware!

Here’s another one we are ignoring at our own peril. Global climate change is real. Sea levels are rising. I awoke one day last month to find that the sea had invaded the yard and the ocean was throwing logs onto the lawn. The homeowners say this has never happened before, but I’m willing to bet it won’t be long before it happens again. Mother Nature is sending us clear messages. You might even call them warnings. We need to pay attention.

Climate change
Sea levels are rising.

Thanks to Wind Kisses for this week’s Lens-Artists Photo Challenge, Messages.