Have you ever taken a photograph and when you looked at it later, you couldn’t figure out what attracted you to the scene? If that ever happens to you, the answer might be to move in closer. This week’s Lens-Artists Photo Challenge is Close and Closer. For this week’s challenge, I decided to use some examples from Death Valley.
Golden Canyon is beautiful. But what is it that makes it so special?
In the feature shot, I moved in a little closer to the rock layers in the walls of Golden Canyon, creating a much more satisfying photograph of what really attracted me to the scene, the sculpted shapes and pastel colors of the canyon walls.
In the above gallery, I have a few images of Mosaic Canyon. I moved in closer on the upper center image by cropping. The left and right images were made by moving closer and zooming in. I was intrigued by the colors and textures of the rock layers that made up Mosaic Canyon. In this selection though, I don’t necessarily think closer is better, it’s just different perspectives and I like them all.
When it comes to flowers, though, closer is usually better.
With flowers, though, in my experience, closer is usually better unless you are going for the image of the whole field of flowers. The above gallery is a good example of that.
I kept putting off my visit. Why should I seek out a place that would only depress me? The last time I was there I only saw 3 or 4, and I had to use binoculars even to find the dismal few. I heard a rumor that they were coming back. But I also heard that last year none returned at all.
Since it was my last week in Pacific Grove, and the sanctuary was close by, I decided to bite the bullet and check it out. I’m glad I did.
I had only taken a few steps into the refuge when the passion and the drama took place right before my eyes, practically at my feet. They were fluttering by, flirting, chasing each other when things suddenly got serious. He slammed her to the ground. They wrestled. They danced. Then he brought their lovemaking to an entirely new level. He clasped her close. She went limp in his arms. He carried her high into the sky, up to the very tops of the trees.
Butterfly Porn
When it comes to sexual endurance, the Monarch Butterflies put humans to shame. A pair of Monarchs will mate for up to 15 hours! They start mid-afternoon and finish shortly after sunrise. Afterwards, the female flies off to find a milkweed plant to lay her eggs on. In the two weeks or so that she has left to live, the female Monarch will repeat that act again and again.
In a week when the world situation is looking especially grim, it sure is nice to be able to share some good news. The Monarch Butterflies seem to be making a bit of a comeback.
Monarchs mating
I’ve written before about the demise of the Monarchs. The last time I visited the Pacific Grove Sanctuary, California’s Monarchs had plummeted to less than 1% of their former population. Numbers had dropped from 4.5 MILLION in the 1980s to 28,429 as of January 2019.
Last year there were no butterflies at all found in the Pacific Grove Sanctuary, and less than 2,000 counted in all of California.
Bring your binoculars
This year there were about 14,000 in Pacific Grove alone and just over 247,000 in the total count for the California coast. Good news!
Perhaps some of our actions have helped the Monarch. Pacific Grove is a town that takes safeguarding the butterflies seriously. In this town, messing with a Monarch carries a $1,000 fine! The city has planted butterfly-friendly plants in its parks and along the Coastal Trail. Many residents have also planted butterfly-friendly plants, avoided RoundUp, and eaten more organic food since hearing about the Monarch’s plight.
Monarch cluster
Action is even beginning to take place on the federal level. There were two bills for butterfly conservation included in the $1 trillion infrastructure package that passed in November. These Acts, the Monarch and Pollinator Highway Act and the Monarch Action, Recovery, and Conservation of Habitat Act, will provide grants for replacing invasive species with native pollinator-friendly plants on highway roadsides and medians. They will also charge highway crews with being mindful about when they mow, avoiding mowing during key times in the Monarch migration.
The resurgence of butterfly numbers this year is wonderful news. But it’s not really a comeback, it’s more of a reprieve. We dodged a bullet this time, but 250,000 is a drop in the bucket compared to the 4.5 million found in earlier years. Monarch Butterflies still face the looming threats of pesticides, habitat destruction and climate change. They still need our help to grow back into a healthy, thriving population.
Help the Monarchs. Eat organic. Don’t use pesticides. Please do what you can to provide sanctuary, and help the Monarch butterflies survive.
Thank you, Karina of Murtagh’s Meadow, for providing this week’s Lens-Artists Photography Challenge, A Special Place.
It’s a good year to miss winter in Alaska. The snow started early, on the last day of summer. I wasn’t lucky enough to miss that storm. It complicated my travel plans. It took me a couple of extra days to close everything up on the homestead and get out of town.
Then the snow took a brief hiatus, making way for the extreme cold. It was 40 below for weeks at a time in McCarthy, even dipping down to -60. The coldest I had ever seen was 53 below. Glad I missed the cold spell.
Pacific Coast sunset
See what I mean about a good winter to miss? It was just getting started.
It’s been snowing back home. And snowing, and snowing….. more snow than anyone can remember ever falling in McCarthy. Buildings are buried. And it’s still February. March is usually the snowiest month. Yikes!
Sunset in Pacific Grove
Which makes me super grateful for where I am spending the winter, further south on the Pacific Coast. I have really been enjoying those Pacific Coast sunsets.
I spent January at a housesit in Anacortes, Washington. The weather was generally dark, drab and dreary, with snow, rain or fog practically every day. My SAD syndrome kicked in, but I kept reminding myself about what the weather was like back home and felt pretty thankful to be someplace safe and warm where I could avoid driving on those occasions when the streets were icy.
Sunset at Rosario Beach near Anacortes, Washington
The day before I left, I did have one nice sunset.
Then my luck changed. I had clear weather for 3 days in Olympic National Park! What a rare and wonderful occurrence! The skies continued to stay mostly clear as I traveled down the coast to my February housesit, in Pacific Grove, California.
Rialto Beach, Olympic National park
Mostly clear, except every night as I passed through Oregon there was a thin band of fog on the western horizon in otherwise cloudless skies, effectively extinguishing any hints of color from the setting sun. I’ve included a photo from an Oregon sunset I took on another trip, so you can see the potential and understand my disappointment when things looked so hopeful each evening but didn’t pan out.
Bandon Beach, Oregon
Skies have been clear almost every night here in California. There has only been one day with any precipitation at all. It was just a sprinkle, but I was able to capture some fabulous God rays between storms. Check out the feature shot and you’ll see what I mean.
I feel a little like Goldilocks and the three bears. Although I am grateful for all these beautiful sunsets, we could use some rain. Although there’s too much snow in McCarthy, the drought in the West is severe. According to dendrochronology, the science of interpreting past climate through tree rings, in some places it’s the worst drought in over 1500 years. So I pray for rain, and hope that if it comes, it also brings big waves, god rays and rainbows.
I’m in love with the madrone and manzanita trees. I’ve never spent time with these trees before, but now that I have, I just can’t get enough of them! Both so beautiful, and similar in so many ways. Sister trees.
Literally, sister trees. Similar in so many ways that many people cannot tell the difference. But the differences are there for those who look a little closer. One golden, one auburn.
Sister trees – one blonde, one a redhead. Can you tell the difference?
You know those greek myths about trees transforming into nymphs and other, generally feminine, supernatural creatures? Well, growing up in Colorado I never could really envision the nymph thing. Our trees grew straight and tall. An aspen does not look like a dryad. But here…
I can see people in these trees. Not faces so much, though there are a few. But bodies. Feminine bodies.
Not many faces in this forest, but I did see this one. Kind of Halloweeney.
My friend Michelle says that these trees are sexy. And they are. Graceful and curvaceous, they twist and weave, each tree unique, each dancing its own dance. Their sculpted branches, like fingers, beckon you closer, closer, inviting you to touch their smooth, perfect skin.
Sexy trees.
In tones of gold and burgundy, their bark is beautiful. Smooth, burnished, just begging to be stroked. Petite, wine-colored manzanitas are completely smooth from top to bottom. Patches and streaks of gray give character, indicating a life long lived.
Manzanita bark just begs to be touched.
The taller madrones have bits of rougher bark tapering into the smooth, peeling and shredding like rags clinging to their golden skin.
Madrone bark is a little rougher.
Foliose and fruticose lichens decorate the scars of discarded branches along their trunks. Epiphytic lichens drape the limbs of all the residents of these groves, even the oaks, accenting their elegant forms.
Lots of lichens decorate these trees, especially the manzanitas
The leaves are simple, almost an afterthought. Thick, waxy, evergreen leaves cluster at the tips of the branches, revealing long, flowing lines. But leaves are not all you’ll find at the tips of these branches.
Both madrone and manzanita trees fruit. Manzanita means “little apple” in Spanish. Another name for the madrone is the strawberry tree, though their berries do not resemble or taste like strawberries at all! They do not fruit every year. But I got lucky. This year was a big one for the madrones. They are covered with massive amounts of small, reddish-orange berries.
It’s a big year for madrone berries in the Applegate Valley.
The birds made a big impression on me when I first arrived here on the farm. A brilliant cacophony greeted me every morning. And I saw unbelievably huge flocks of robins. On some mornings, hundreds of robins filled the fields surrounding the house. It seemed to me that every robin in Alaska came down to Williams to spend the winter! I hear it’s not like that every year. They’re here for the madrone berries. Other birds, too, for instance, mourning doves, are attracted by the bumper crop of berries this year.
Madrone means “indulgent mother” in Spanish, and the madrone provides. Not only birds feast on the madrone crop. Raccoons, deer, bears, and even people eat madrone berries. Although they are kind of mealy and not sweet, indigenous peoples would eat them and make cider from the berries.
Madrone forest
Madrone trees provide in other ways, too. They’re susceptible to funguses and plant diseases that cause heart rot, so cavities form easily. These cavities provide homes for many creatures.
Madrone and manzanita trees were both valued by indigenous peoples for a number of medicinal uses. For instance, one of the things I dislike about this habitat is the prevalence of poison oak. A tisane of manzanita bark can be used to soothe the rash caused by poison oak!
Manzanita bark can be used to combat poison oak.
The foggy climate of the Pacific Northwest helps to create an air of enchantment in the madrone-manzanita woodlands. It truly is a magical place to take a walk.
If you would like to take a walk in these woodlands yourself and you are in Oregon’s Applegate Valley, here are a few suggestions. In the Williams area, my favorite walk is at Pacifica. This is where my friend Michelle McAfee first introduced me to these beauties. In the Grants Pass area, Cathedral Hills is a favorite. There are lots of trails here with incredible trees. You might start with the Skyline Trail. In Jacksonville, head on up to the Jacksonville Forest Park and check out the Halls of Manzanita Trail.
All sorts of interesting details on these trees. Each one is unique.
These are just a few of the places where you’ll find these incredible trees. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do!
It got to -40 in McCarthy last week, and almost 20 below in Palmer. It’s been C-O-L-D in Alaska.
Thankfully, I’m not there. I decided to make like a bird and migrate. I’ve spent enough winters in cold places. For me, Warmth = Bliss. I’m following my bliss this winter.
TrustedHousesitters has been quite helpful to me when it comes to following my bliss. They hook up people looking for a petsitter with folks like me. I can check out what life is like in other beautiful places for a week or a month, and the homeowners can rest easy knowing that their home and pets will be well taken care of during their absence. It’s a wonderful trade, a real win-win situation.
Magdalena
I spent the end of October taking care of a sweet dog and kitty in Magdalena, New Mexico. Magdalena is the kind of town that brings those old Western movies to life. Established in 1885, it was a cowtown and railhead, the end of the line for cattle drives from as far away as Arizona.
The cattle drives are over, but Magdalena is proud of its rich history and happy to share it with visitors. This sleepy little town is chock full of art galleries and coffee shops. It’s a fun place to spend a Saturday afternoon, strolling along the sidewalks and checking out all the wonderful creations on display.
Not much left of Kelly
I love ghost towns. One way I follow my bliss is by exploring these glimpses of the past whenever I get the chance. Magdalena is surrounded by ghost towns and near-ghost towns. That old Western movie vibe you feel here? The ghost towns are a big part of that. You get a taste of the Old West as you walk their dusty streets.
Just a few miles from Magdalena is Kelly. It was once a thriving mining community, with a population of over 3,000 people. All that’s left now are foundations, a few walls, and a headframe at the mine. There is only one building left standing in town, the Catholic church.
…except the church
Another ghost town near Magdalena is Riley. Originally known as Santa Rita, the town changed its name to get a post office, since there was already another Santa Rita in the Territory. Riley was a farming community and died during the Dust Bowl in the 1930s when its water table dropped precipitously. The church is still standing here, too. New Mexico is like that.
Lack of water is what killed Riley.
Water is key in the New Mexico desert. I spent most of my time in Magdalena sitting on the porch enjoying the birdlife attracted by a tiny pool on the property.
While in New Mexico, I pursued another passion, following my bliss by birdwatching at Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge. Due to the ongoing drought, things were a little different at the Bosque this fall. The shallow ponds that are usually the big draw for photographers who want those images of thousands of Snow Geese and Sandhill Cranes were dry. The Refuge was only flooding those fields that were planted with food for the birds. But there were still many incredible opportunities to observe and photograph dozens of different species. Sunrise at the Bosque is a magical, holy experience and I am thankful that I was able to visit this year.
A whirlwind of sparrows
I’m on another housesit now, a farm in southern Oregon. There’s a lot of birdlife here, too. I found it rather serendipitous that I am here for Thanksgiving, and a flock of 23 wild turkeys has been hanging out on the property off and on all week. Guess they know I have no intention of shooting them for Turkey Day!
Down on the Farm
Watching them though, I can totally understand why the Founding Fathers did not take Ben Franklin’s advice and make this bird our national symbol. Turkeys are really homely birds. Bald heads covered with red bumps, wrinkly and scrawny necks, not necessarily a good look for a national symbol!
This is NOT a sexy bird.
However, I’m enjoying the peace and serenity of country living this Thanksgiving. I’m thankful to be warm and counting my blessings. It’s a good life. That’s my advice for this Thanksgiving weekend – Count your blessings. And remember to follow your bliss – whenever you can and wherever it leads you!
For this week’s Lens-Artists Photography Challenge, let’s get wild! I’m talking about Mother Nature untouched and untrammelled, allowed to get on with her work without human help or hindrance.
“Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts.”
Rachel Carson
Everyone can find some wild to get close to in their life, even if it’s only a flower.
Maybe you’re lucky and have access to some truly wild landscapes. Perhaps you’re not. But give her a chance, and Nature will break free and get wild wherever we let her! Even if your only access to the natural world is the local park, you will certainly find something wild in your world. It could be a bird migrating through on its way north and south, or a wildflower springing up on an empty lot.
I don’t want to see groomed gardens or animals in the zoo. No people or signs of people. I want to see and revel in the natural world in your posts. Where’s the wildest place you’ve ever been? Where do you go to let Mother Nature regenerate your spirit? Please share with us the wild places, plants and beings that are close to YOUR heart!
“But love of the wilderness is more than a hunger for what is always beyond reach; it is also an expression of loyalty to the earth which bore us and sustains us, the only home we shall ever know, the only paradise we ever need – if only we had eyes to see.”
Edward Abbey
Life in the Wrangells, gateway to the wilderness
The natural world is my passion in life, and I love to share it. A long time ago I decided the most important goal in my life was to wake in beauty every day. Because I’ve made that a priority, I’m more fortunate than most when it comes to being close to nature. With a telephoto lens, this is the view from my bedroom window.
The price for that view is no running water or indoor toilets, and the hard work and logistical challenges of attempting to maintain an off-the-grid homestead. But it’s a price I’m happy to pay, because every morning when I wake up, the angels sing!
I live in the center of Wrangell-St. Elias National Park & Preserve in Alaska, one of the biggest protected wildernesses on the planet. But these days I usually snowbird it and go south in the winter. There are too many beautiful places in the world to spend your life in just one, no matter how wonderful that one is.
I migrate, like the birds.
I used to be a ranger in Death Valley National Park, which has more wilderness than any other national park outside Alaska. Pretty easy to find the wild there.
A nameless canyon in Death Valley National Park
My favorite way to get next to the wild is to get up close and personal with wildflowers. Drop down to their level. Breathe in their fragrance. Get out a magnifying glass to really check out the intricacies of the tiny flowers. Revel in their beauty, but don’t pick them. Leave them living, so others will have a chance to appreciate them, too. I spend March and April most years following the wildflower bloom, first in the desert…
And then catching the spring flowers in the Sierras and Oregon on my way back to Alaska.
And then there’s the sea. Another way to get close to the wild in the world. I have really fallen in love with the seashore in the last few years. What could be wilder than the ocean?
The ocean is so wild it’s like another planet!
“Wilderness is not only a haven for native plants and animals but it is also a refuge from society. It’s a place to go to hear the wind and little else, see the stars and the galaxies, smell the pine trees, feel the cold water, touch the sky and the ground at the same time, listen to coyotes, eat the fresh snow, walk across the desert sands, and realize why it’s good to go outside of the city and the suburbs.”
John Muir
We need to learn to share!
Wild places are important because we need to learn to share our planet with everything else that calls it home. It does not belong to us exclusively, although we all too often act like it does.
Wild places are also important because they rejuvenate our souls. Wilderness is essential to our mental health. What a sad world it would be if we had no wilderness. Celebrate the wild in the world this summer, and please protect it wherever you may find it!
“…the word of the Lorax seems perfectly clear. UNLESS someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It’s not.”
Dr. Seuss
Celebrate and care for the wild in your world!
Please join me in this Lens-Artists Photo Challenge and share the wild in your world. Remember to use the lens-artists tag and include a link to my original post.
Next week, Patti will be offering LAPC #151, so be sure to check out her site then! Her theme is From Large to Small. Pick a color and take several photos that feature that color. Start with a photo of a big subject in that color (for example, a wall) and move all the way down to a small subject in that same color (for example, an earring).
Thank you to Tina, Amy, Ann-Christine and Patti for inviting me to host this challenge. It’s wonderful to be part of the Lens-Artists community and I look forward to seeing all your wonderful wild posts this week.
