trees Archives ~ Page 2 of 3 ~ Rambling ranger

December 22, 2022

Below the 49th Parallel – My Favorites

Well, I couldn’t do it. This week’s Lens-Artists Photo Challenge is Last Chance, when we’re invited to show off some of our favorite 2022 images that have not been published in a post yet this year. Since I took such a long hiatus from my blog this year, I have plenty! Too many, in fact. I can’t narrow my unpublished favorites down to one post.

Harriman State Park, OR — Oregon beach sunset

I’ve been trying, but I have lots of sweet images I’d love to share. Because I have too many, and since the Lens-Artists are taking a week off for the holidays and won’t be putting out a prompt next week, I’ve decided to divide my favorites into 2 parts. This week will be my favorites from below the 49th parallel, and next week will be my Northland favorites.

Redwood National Park — Tallest trees in the world

Last Winter’s Travels

One suggestion was to include images that would probably never be included in one of our typical posts. I pet sit in the winter but I very, very seldom include photos of my charges in my posts. Here is a favorite shot of a kitty I took care of last January.

Anacortes, WA — This kitty used to chew holes in my clothes!

I spent the month of February on a housesit in Pacific Grove, California. I envisioned this shot and was so excited, especially in post-processing when I realized I’d captured exactly what I’d envisioned!

I love visiting the redwood forest, and I love capturing abstracts. This is my favorite abstract shot for 2022. Charred bark from a previous fire and living green moss and lichens contributed to hues as bright as a peacock’s tail when looked at closely in this image.

Last Chance Photo Challenge — Rainbow Redwood

Check out this cool tree. It’s in Olympic National Park’s coastal forest, and with a burly head, fungus features, and a crown of fern leaves, it’s a people tree! I stop by and say Hello! and give it a hug every time I pass that way.

(Yawn) Another sublime Olympic sunset… The Feature is one, too. I captured this image on Rialto Beach. I love the dreamy feel of this image. The Feature shot is from First Beach. I had so many great shots from First Beach it was hard to pick just one.

This Winter’s Travels

My final image from Olympic is fall colors, maples along the Sol Duc Hot Springs Road. Olympic had by far the best fall colors I found in Washington this year.

Now I’m on Orcas Island, and I have especially enjoyed the waterfalls here. This one is called Rustic Falls.

For my final image, while hiking a local trail I saw this Big Leaf Maple leaf standing, still attached, on a tree branch – perfectly upright and all by itself, beautifully backlit. It’s getting a bit ragged, but mostly green, even though it’s December. It hasn’t let go, just keeps hanging on. This is a great inspiration for those times when I’m feeling a little raggedy! I underexposed the background because it was a bit busy and distracting. Doing this helped me to capture the way this leaf looked to me and made me feel.

Hope you, too, are still hanging in there and I wish you all a Happy Holiday season!

December 15, 2022

Patterns

To understand is to perceive patterns. – Isaiah Berlin

I love photographing patterns. When you practice the Art of Seeing, perceiving patterns is an important skill to have.

Old Man's Beard — This one would have also worked well in last week’s Diagonals post.

Life is a great tapestry. The individual is only an insignificant thread in an immense and miraculous pattern. – Albert Einstein

My all-time favorite pattern image I’ve ever captured are the flowers in the feature shot of this blog, each flower smaller than my little finger. I’ve probably published it in a blog before, but when I think of patterns in photography, this is the image that comes to my mind. We’ve all heard the phrase, “a carpet of wildflowers”. This was such a carpet. Carpets are all about patterns.

The immense and miraculous pattern of life is all around us. Just take a look.

Oregon coast — Everything we see is just a thread in the pattern of nature’s tapestry.

Art is the imposing of a pattern on experience, and our aesthetic enjoyment is recognition of the pattern. – Alfred North Whitehead

Sometimes it’s fun when the pattern transcends the subject. I think this abstract image of a bare-branched tree looks like it could be not a tree, but the pattern in a marble slab.

White Manzanita — Is it a tree or just a pattern in stone?

Find beauty not only in the thing itself but in the pattern of the shadows, the light and dark which that thing provides. –Junichiro Tanizaki

Photography is, of course, all about capturing light in all its variations, and the juxtaposition of light and shadow is one way to perceive and capture patterns. I found a delightful play between my subject and the shadows reflected from it in the water in this image of Bog Bean flowers growing in a pond along the McCarthy Road this summer. Bog Bean looks pretty inconsequential when viewed from a distance, but up close the fringed flowers are exquisite.

Bog Bean flowers — I love the pattern displayed by the flowers and their shadows in this image

Nature uses only the longest threads to weave her patterns, so that each small piece of her fabric reveals the organization of the entire tapestry. – Richard Feynman

Repetition is the only constant that all patterns share, and a major component in why patterns can be so aesthetically pleasing.

Mendocino County, CA — Patterns are aesthetically pleasing, repetition with small variances.

Though at first glance the natural world may appear overwhelming in its diversity and complexity, there are regularities running through it, from the hexagons of a honeycomb to the spirals of a seashell and the branching veins of a leaf. … -Philip Ball

Patterns are universal. Even in the most literal sense of that word. Think of the spirals of galaxies, or the patterns of stars in the sky. Those same patterns can be found in the tiniest things, too, such as the spirals of a snail’s shell or the patterns of wee flowers in a springtime meadow.

Williams, Oregon tree trunk patterns — Patterns in nature can be lines, circles, fractals, spirals…. The possibilities are endless!

“The natural world is built upon common motifs and patterns. Recognizing patterns in nature creates a map for locating yourself in change, and anticipation what is yet to come.” – Sharon Weil

There are patterns in our lives, too, from everyday habits to the grander cycles of the seasons or the progression from birth to death.

Driftwood patterns — The cycle of life, death and rebirth is a pattern.

Finding patterns is the essence of wisdom. – Dennis Prager

The better we are at recognizing and understanding patterns, the more resilient we will be, able to withstand the unexpected changes in our lives.

water patterns Cascade Falls Moran State Park, WA — Understanding patterns helps us go with the flow.

“There are patterns which emerge in one’s life, circling and returning anew, an endless variation of a theme”. ― Jacqueline Carey

People like patterns. They give a sense of order to what otherwise might seem to be chaos.

Abstract patterns — Patterns help us organize our lives.

“Pay attention to the intricate patterns of your existence that you take for granted.” ― Doug Dillon

One of the patterns in my life is seasonal transience, like our hunter/gatherer forbears. I have been living that lifestyle for over 40 years. It is the pattern of life that makes me happy, but it is definitely not for everyone. What are the patterns of your life? Do they still make you happy?

Mesquite Sand Dunes, Death Valley National Park — A seasonally transient lifestyle is one of my patterns, shifting like these sands.

When patterns are broken, new worlds emerge. – Tuli Kupferberg

When our patterns no longer serve us, it’s time to break free and discover new ones. If you answered “No” to that last question, you might want to consider letting go of some of the old patterns in your life.

pattern of Madrone fruit, leaves and sky — Is it time to discover a new pattern?

Thank you so much to Ann-Christine, Leya, for this week’s Lens-Artists Photo Challenge, Perfect Patterns.

What a strange pattern the shuttle of life can weave. – Francis Marion

May your thread in the tapestry of life be beautiful and wonderful. Happy Holidays!

succulent pattern — A little red & green for Christmas – Happy Holidays!

November 25, 2022

The Middle Way

Moran State Park, Orcas Island, Washington

I should never say never, because I always end up eating my words. Last year I spent the month of January in Anacortes, Washington, and found I really didn’t care much for that town. It was pretty, but the hills were too rounded. The sea was too mellow. No ragged jagged crags, no crashing surf. I could see why some people really loved it, but it was too tame. It just wasn’t wild enough for me. I felt stifled.

I’m a fan of in-your-face dramatic landscapes. Landscapes that smack you down and leave you awestruck. As a park ranger I’ve worked in parks that contain the highest and the lowest spots in North America. I live in a park that has more high mountains and more glaciers than anywhere else in the country. You might say I’m addicted to the extremes.

When I left Anacortes, I told myself I would never do another winter housesit in northern Washington. But when an opportunity came this year for a long-term housesit, in an oceanfront property on Orcas Island, I jumped on it.

I occasionally had second thoughts. I love the winters I’ve spent traveling throughout the West, checking out many different fabulous locations along the way. Will I miss my travels? Absolutely!

Petrified Forest National Park — I will miss the colors and textures of the desert, especially the Colorado Plateau.

I will miss the colors and textures of the deserts. I will miss the wild winter waves along the open Pacific coast. I will miss the wildlife extravaganzas I’ve been so lucky to witness in New Mexico’s Bosque del Apache and California’s Piedras Blancas National Wildlife Refuges. I will especially miss following the bloom, enjoying the spring wildflowers as I travel north from the Mexican border to Oregon.

But spending the winter on Orcas has its benefits. I attended one of the best performances I’ve ever witnessed last week, Rafe Pearlman’s Kanu. It was like nothing else I’ve ever seen before. Being in one place for the whole winter will give me the space and time to finish the book I’ve been working on. I can immerse myself in, and get to know, two entirely new ecosystems, both the Salish Sea island environment and the intertidal zone. I’m really excited about that opportunity. One big benefit is that staying here is much kinder to the planet, keeping my carbon levels low. I’ve gone through less than a tank of gas in the entire month of November!

Most importantly, I can try to resolve a lot of chronic pain issues I’ve been struggling with the last few years. That’s something I’ve been unable to do, home in McCarthy, where it’s a 500-mile round trip to see a health professional. On Orcas, I have access to so many wellness practitioners; massage therapists, chiropractors, acupuncture, physical therapy and more. They call Orcas the healing island. There’s a vibe here.

I’ll still be challenged by the lack of those extremes that I love. I’m not alone. A fellow Alaskan I met here said, “I feel too big for this place somehow. I talk too loud, I move too suddenly. I love it here, but I’m too…big.” I understand what she means.

Driftwood textures — It’s a subtle beauty.

Orcas Island has its own beauty. There are lovely waterfalls and noble trees. But it’s subtle. It’s not one of the extremes. You might say it’s the Middle Way.

Following the Middle Way is following the Tao. It’s a righteous way to live. So perhaps for me, for this winter, the Middle Way is the place to be. It’s time to leave the outer journey behind for a time and work on the inner journey. It’s a journey I look forward to. Peace to all from Orcas.

Thanks to Jude of Cornwall in Colors for this week’s Lens-Artists Photo Challenge, Textures.

January 7, 2022

My Favorite Photos of 2021

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.

Alaska alpenglow in the Chugach Mountains — Purple Mountain’s Majesty, a favorite photographic moment.

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.

Alaska alpenglow Chugach Mountains — Knik Glacier

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.

Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge, New Mexico — Sunrise on the Bosque

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.

Vesper Sparrows — Every leaf on this tree is a bird.

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!

California Coastal National Monument — Sunset on the beach at San Simeon

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.

Cathedral Hills, Oregon — Manzanita Bark

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.

Skyline Trail, Cathedral Hills, Oregon — What is it?

This is definitely my favorite abstract of the year, though. Can you guess what it is?

Williams, Oregon — Wishing you all a great 2022!

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!

Thank you to Tina Schell of Travels and Trifles for hosting this week’s Lens Artists Challenge, Favorite Photos of 2021.

December 16, 2021

Madrone and Manzanita

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.

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.

The taller madrones have bits of rougher bark tapering into the smooth, peeling and shredding like rags clinging to their golden skin.

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 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!

Thank you so much to Tina of Travels and Trifles for this week’s Lens-Artists Photo Challenge.

Applegate Valley, berries, ecosystems, forest, hikes, Lens Artists Photo Challenge, Lens-Artists, lichens, madrone, manzanita, medicinal plants, nature photography, Oregon, photography, Siskiyou, trees, walks, woods

February 19, 2021February 19, 2021

A Glimpse Into My World – Chill

These days my world is pretty chill. As in –

Chill

1. an unpleasant feeling of coldness in the atmosphere, one’s surroundings, or the body: “there was a chill in the air” synonyms coldness, chilliness, coolness, iciness, crispness,…more

After all, I AM in Alaska this winter. Due to concerns about corona virus and civil unrest I consciously chose to stay here, even though I’ve really come to hate the cold and fear the ice.

It hasn’t been an easy winter. One challenge after another. But I don’t think I made the wrong choice. My concerns were very real. It was a conscious, well-thought-out decision.

There are three ways wild animals deal with winter’s cold – adapt, endure or avoid. I’ve TRIED to embrace the cold. To adapt. Really, I have. But I find I’m just enduring much of the time.

I have avoided winter for the last dozen or so years the same way some birds do, through flight. Call me a snowbird, I don’t care. I paid my dues. Ten winters in Alaska, five of them hauling wood and water for survival in McCarthy. And another fifteen or so in the mountains of Colorado. I’ve simply had my fill.

Palmer, Alaska — Alpenglow on Matanuska Peak

Another way to avoid winter is through hibernation. I’m doing a little of that this winter. Not the sleeping all the time, but I rarely go out and about. I’m definitely more interior-focused. Which brings me to another definition of

Chill

2. A versatile slang word that means calm, relaxed, easy-going, or cool, as well as a hang out. Other definitions of Chill: When used to describe a person, place, or thing, typically means relaxed or level-headed, with no ill intentions. Can be a verb that means to “relax or hang out” together.

It took me a while to really land this year. I knew where I wanted to be when I left McCarthy in October, but for various reasons, the housing situation did not gel until January. But I am FINALLY settled for the winter in Palmer.

Palmer lies in a great glacial river valley right at the base of the Chugach Mountains, which means I have the vertical topography I need and love, but the roads are mostly flat and easier for me to negotiate when they get icy. It means I can stay here warm typing this post while watching the alpenglow on the mountain in my backyard.

I’ve been very introspective lately. I am spending a lot of time learning this winter, and many hours are spent processing images and writing. I spend a lot of time thinking as I contemplate where and how I will move forward into the next chapter of my life.

I’m also spending a lot of time hanging out with an old friend. The last few winters I’ve lived a solitary lifestyle, traveling and housesitting. I visited a lot of friends in my travels but didn’t stay in any one place for too long, or spend much time with any one person.

It’s been rather serendipitous, my hanging out in Palmer for a winter. I’ve been able to help my friend out after a recent surgery and also just be there for her when needed for emotional support. SAD syndrome is real, and sometimes a person just needs company.

Cow moose — Hanging out with one of the neighbors

So even though the challenges continue (this week I had to throw down nearly a thousand bucks to repair my poor little desert truck, who hates the cold even more than I do), and even though the Alaska winter is more than just chilly – it’s searingly, bitingly cold – I’m feeling pretty chill about my life right now. I’m feeling I’m in a good place.

Sometimes you just need to chill.

Thank you, Sheetal Bravon of Sheetalthinksaloud, for this week’s Lens-Artists Photo Challenge, “Glimpse Into Your World”.

Tag: trees

Below the 49th Parallel – My Favorites

Last Winter’s Travels

This Winter’s Travels

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Patterns

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The Middle Way

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My Favorite Photos of 2021

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Madrone and Manzanita

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A Glimpse Into My World – Chill

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Last Winter’s Travels

This Winter’s Travels

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