Magical Places

University Peak, Wrangell-St. Elias National Park & Preserve

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

Denali National Park
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.

Alpine wildflowers in Denali National Park.
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

Golden Falls, Coast Range, Oregon
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

Navarro River State Park, CA
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?

Hall of Mosses is a magical trail.
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
Manzanita in the Cathedral Hills in Grants Pass, Oregon.

Tidepools

Bandon, Oregon
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.

Ochre Sea Stars on the Oregon coast
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

Shakespeare Arch, Kodachrome Basin
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
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.

Springtime in Death Valley National Park
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.

Magical Death Valley National Park
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.

Ghost Town at the End of the Rainbow
McCarthy is a magical place.

Thanks to Ann-Christine of Leya for this week’s Lens-Artist’s Photography Challenge, Magical.

 

 

Orcas Island: A New Experience

Orcas Island Sunset

Housesitting on Orcas Island this winter was a new experience for me, in many different ways. It was the first time I’d lived in an oceanfront property. I really enjoyed that! That is an experience I wouldn’t mind repeating! This was also the first time I’d lined up a housesit that lasted the entire winter.

New Experience: oceanfront property
This was my winter housesit.

There were a lot of reasons why staying in one place for a big chunk of time seemed like a good idea. I had a lot of projects that I needed to really focus on, instead of letting myself get distracted by the next adventure. Although most of those projects are still unfinished, I did make a huge amount of progress.

New Experience: Pacific Northwest
Could I be happy living in the Pacific Northwest?

Another reason I wanted to spend time in one place is that I have kind of been scouting for a new home, trying to figure out where I could live and still be happy after spending nearly half my lifetime in Never Never Land, the coolest town in the Universe, McCarthy. McCarthy is an amazing place to be, but there’s a reason why we call it the Do It The Hard Way Club.  It is a very physical lifestyle, and gets more and more difficult as I age. But where else can compare? Where else will I be content? I feel like I need to find a new home, but I keep putting it off.

New Experience: Island Living
Looking into Canada

Orcas Island seemed like it might be a possibility. This is a land with enough water and a gentle climate, where you can live sustainably. It would be nice to leave a lighter footprint on the Earth. But I found that Orcas wasn’t a good fit for me. There were a few things that left me sorely disappointed.

Orcas Island
Enough water and a mild climate, a place where one could live sustainably

I’ve learned that the weather doesn’t suit me. I think I already knew that, but I had to give it a try. This was the first time I’d spent more than a month in a maritime climate. It’s an experience I’m not especially anxious to repeat. Even though the San Juans are in the rain shadow of the Olympic Mountains and it doesn’t rain all that much here, the skies are usually grey in the winter. I didn’t see a decent sunset here for four and a half months, until about 2 weeks ago. I need more sunshine. I really do. Otherwise, the SAD Syndrome kicks in. It didn’t affect me as badly here as it does in Alaska, but I still had to struggle against the ensuing depression that strikes me when I spend too many days without sunshine and blue skies.

North Beach Rainbow
I need more colors than grey in my sky!

Another thing I really, really need are wild lands. Orcas is far too domesticated to suit me. When I first visited the San Juans, about 35 years ago, they were much wilder. Camping on Shaw Island, tiny deer with velvet antlers walked right into camp. I sat at our picnic table and watched the otters play. We camped somewhere near the ferry landing here on Orcas during that trip. It was the first time I’d ever seen tidepools and the weird and wonderful creatures that inhabit them. So I came to the San Juans this time with certain expectations. I thought I’d see otters. And deer. And tidepools.

New Experience: Fox on San Juan Island
I had to go to San Juan Island to find wildlife.

I should have known better. After all, McCarthy is very different than it was 30 years ago. Why did I expect the San Juans to stay the same? Things change, and island environments are particularly fragile and easily disrupted. There are a lot more people in the world now, and a lot less open space.

New Experience: Factories in my view
Looking East to Anacortes

A plague wiped out most of the deer on the island a couple of years ago. I’ve seen one deer, for about 3 seconds, running across the lawn the first week I was here. I haven’t seen one since. Although people keep telling me the otters still live here, I haven’t seen any. I haven’t seen any orcas, either.

Deer Harbor
The San Juans are Paradise, IF you have a boat!

Another big disappointment was that although Orcas Island has around 50 miles of hiking trails, there is very little access to the coast. It’s all privately owned. If you add up all the public beaches and coastal trails accessible by road on the island, you might come up with about two miles altogether. There’s not a public beach on the island you couldn’t walk across in ten minutes. I had no idea that there would be so little coastal access to anyone without a boat. I was really, really glad I was staying in an oceanfront property, so at least I had a way to reach the sea.

New Experience: Tidepooling
Weird and wonderful tidepool creatures

Another thing I didn’t know is that there are no negative tides during daylight hours all winter long. There have been 3 days with good tidepooling since I got here, all of them this month. I’ve made the most of them, but that was definitely a disappointment. I had so looked forward to the new experience of learning that ecosystem.

Tidepooling on Orcas Island
Some of the sea stars are making a comeback!

There’s a lesson I needed to learn. About expectations. If I’d approached this place with a beginner’s mind, without my preconceived expectations, I wouldn’t have been so disappointed.  I need to appreciate what is instead of what I think should be.

Common Merganser
Taxiing for takeoff

It’s not like I’ve seen NO wildlife. I say hello to my fellow snowbirds, a raft of Harlequin Ducks, every day. I see other waterfowl; other ducks, Canada Geese, loons, cormorants, and mergansers. I spot a seal once or twice a week and an eagle occasionally. I see something every day.

Cascade Falls
I had lots of wonderful new experiences on Orcas Island.

There were many good things that came from this winter. I heard a  lot of new music, wonderful music I never would have found out about if I hadn’t been living here. I learned to appreciate the beauty of the simple and the commonplace. I was able to sharpen my digital processing skills and worked hard on wellness. I’ve enjoyed my time here. I have no regrets.

Teasel
Learning to appreciate the beauty of the simple and commonplace

Well, maybe one. I wish I’d spent at least one more day on San Juan Island. San Juan Island has a lot of the things that I was missing here on Orcas. I saw wildlife – rabbits and foxes and shorebirds.

American Camp, San Juan National Historical Park
San Juan Island has the coastal trails and beaches.

San Juan Island has lots of public beaches and coastal trails, too. All the things I was missing so badly on Orcas, I found on San Juan Island. That was one new experience that gave me a much-needed attitude adjustment!

New Experience: Island Vista
The sun finally came out!

Then two weeks ago the sun came out. A month ago I was more than ready to leave this place. I was committed for another month, and needed that time for my many projects, but mentally and emotionally I was more than ready to go. But now I feel like I could use a couple more weeks here, to do things I’ve left undone. Such a change in attitude, brought about mostly by sunshine, low tides, and a short ferry ride to another island!

New Experience: The view from my front porch
Attitude adjustment: contentment brought about by seeing the sun.

In a couple of days I’ll be hitting the road, off to enjoy more new experiences, even though most of the roads I’ll be traveling I’ve traveled before. It’s still a different day, a different time, always a new experience. You can never step into the same river twice, right? Everything changes.

Waterfall in Judd Cove
You can never step into the same river twice.

Perhaps that’s the most important lesson for me to take away from my Orcas experience. Everything changes. It’s always a new experience. Approach every moment with a beginner’s mind and you will be filled with joy instead of disappointment as you savor your new experiences.

Orcas Island
Every day is a new experience!

Thank you to Anne of Slow Shutter Speed for this week’s Lens-Artists Photo Challenge, New Experiences.

Orcas Island sunset
Goodbye, Orcas Island. Thanks for a great winter!

 

 

 

 

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.

 

 

 

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.

A Day In The Life

North Beach

Some folks have wondered what my life is like out here on Orcas Island this winter, so I’ll share a day in the life. The Lens-Artists Photo Challenge this week is “A One Lens Walk”.  We’re supposed to take a lens for a walk.  I took my Panasonic Lumix DC FZ-80, a high-end point-and-shoot, and walked the beach that fronts the property here, so that you can see my everyday view.

Eastsound, WA
This is the view from my living room window.

There’s a reason why I landed a winter-long housesit here. It’s the same reason that what seems like half the population of western Washington comes down to Death Valley in the winter. The weather isn’t really bad. It’s actually pretty good compared to most of the country in January. But it isn’t very good, either. It doesn’t rain all that much, but it always looks like rain. It’s somewhat drizzly and… gray. It’s a Maritime climate and it’s fairly far north. So it’s dark. And gray. Almost always.

Eastsound on Orcas Island
The weather’s not bad, it’s just… gray.

The light is flat. It’s not very inspiring, photographically speaking. I often go for walks and feel disappointed because I find so little I want to shoot. It’s kind of pretty. But it’s also pretty bland.

Orcas Island
Sometimes there are surprises.

Sometimes, though, there are surprises. I started this walk and at the edge of the property, where it borders the teeny tiny public beach, I found a flower! In January. In northern Washington, where everything is dead and dormant this time of year! Gives me hope!

By the way, I’m real good at wildflowers but don’t know garden flowers at all, and this one is a garden flower gone feral. If you can identify it for me, let me know in the comments!

A Day in the Life
A bit of seaweed in the wrack line

Flat light’s not all bad. As any flower photographer could tell you, it can be amazing for bringing out color and detail in closeups. So I have to look a little closer, for the details, like the hues and textures in a piece of driftwood.

A day in the life on Orcas Island
Flat light can be excellent for bringing out hues and textures.

Today I riffed on this awesome piece of driftwood, making abstract images. I’ve been getting into abstracts a lot on Orcas, because I’m usually not inspired by the view. (Spoiled, I know.)

Bird Face abstract photography
Riffin’ on the driftwood

Although Orcas hasn’t really inspired me, in other ways this stay has been very good for my photography.   Because it’s gray I spend most of a day in the life sitting in front of the computer. I don’t really care that I’m not out and about. I’m enjoying the occasional look out at that gray view, and sometimes I see my neighbors. I have fellow snowbirds living in the Sound off my beach. The ones I see daily are about a half dozen harlequin ducks. Since harlequins are my favorite ducks, I think that’s pretty cool. Sometimes I see a few buffleheads, or a pair of Goldeneyes, or a pair of loons, or a flock of geese.

Harlequin ducks
Checking out my neighbors and fellow snowbirds

But most of the time I’m focused on the screen. I’m taking a Lightroom course and my processing skills are growing exponentially. I spend a lot of time processing and organizing my huge backlog of images. I’m also working on my book, a history of Kennecott, Alaska, illustrated with my photography. These are all projects that are making me a better photographer. Projects I wouldn’t get to if it was a sunny day in a drop-dead gorgeous locale.

Orcas Island
Driftwood sculpture

I’m trying to get my work out in front of more people, too. I’m in three exhibitions for the month of February, with pieces in the Anza-Borrego Institute’s Desert Photography exhibition in Borrego Springs, California, the New Horizons Exhibition here on Orcas Island and Gallerium’s Shapes and Colors online abstract exhibition.

North Beach Orcas Island
The gray days on Orcas have been good for me.

A day in the life for me on Orcas is chill, a little lonely, low-key but productive. Quiet, still, but subtly beautiful, kind of like the driftwood on the beach.

A day in the life
Low-key yet subtly beautiful