Nature
When the sun is 6 degrees below the horizon it is the beginning of civil twilight. It is the time when shadows disappear. Combine it with pink tinged clouds and wind softened water and the ordinary becomes stunning.
North Harbor, Padanaram
This is the geometry of early spring. Sharp vertical tree trunk reflections, unfettered by the leaves still curled in their buds provide a sharp contrast to the lily pads round green forms. Or perhaps it is the first contingent of alien invaders in Giverny....
Shining like icicles, these "sap sicles" look like both ice and ancient amber.
Reflections from the Paskamansett Bridge in Gidley Woods.
This week's almost balmy days when only a single shirt is needed for gardening, are but a memory this morning. Wintery coolness returned in force with its grey tones. But the Gidley Woods are full of signs of the impending Spring. Recently cut logs from earlier winter storms are oozing a deep red sap that turns purple and pink as it cools. The log below could be the subject of many hours of study. Why are the lichen's deep blue? Is this a log or an Indian totem? And what is that red eye seeing?
No, this is not a photoshop trick - just nature's rainbow is having a field day.
Log of Many Colors.....
The sound of seagulls tells me I am home again. The feel of salt air carried on Atlantic breezes makes my face sing and my curls "sprungle" again. This late winter palette of ocean blue and deeply etched gray also holds the bleached golden color of overwintered grasses and just the faintest hint of the purples and greens waiting just below the surface. In this northern latitude the promise of a long dawn and lingering dusk feels like a tease as the clouds roll in. But when the sky clears the magic of the long low arcing light makes me smile.
It is a good thing that OSHA did not exist back in the 1920's. If it did, Angel's Landing trail in Zion National Park would not exist. This trail is what my brother calls one of the "best bang for the effort" hikes in the world. Thousands of people every year make the trek up the 21 steep switchbacks known as Walter's Wiggles and then across the narrow saddle for the final ascent to be 1500 ft above the floor of Zion Canyon. From the vista at the top, the views in every direction just take your breath away - even after you have stopped huffing and puffing from the exertion.
The view before the switchbacks.
21 switchbacks later
The saddle -hanging onto the chains is a good idea!
View from the top
So sweet to be on top of the world with my son and baby brother, Ted.
Antelope Canyon is a slot canyon where flash foods have sculpted the sandstone into graceful arches of wave patterns. Another magic place hidden in the vast expanse of high desert.
When people walk through your long slow exposures - you get ghosts
When I was born, the community of Page, Arizona did not exist. In 1957, seventeen square miles of land were purchased from the Navajo Nation to build a housing community for the construction workers who built Glen Canyon Dam-the second of the great dams on the Colorado River. When this dam was completed Glen Canyon was flooded and created Lake Powell, the second biggest man made lake in US. This is the dam that was the target of Edward Abbey's Monkey Wrench Gang.
From this vantage point, when you turn your body 180 degrees, your vista changes dramatically. You go from one that speaks to man's imprint on the landscape to nature's untamed version. This is a sunrise view as the light begins to show the canyon wall's colors. It is the eastern boundary of the Grand Canyon.
Standing here, watching canyon wrens from above, it brought back many memories of my first adventure down this mighty river some thirty years ago. Twenty one days floating and learning to navigate rapids in oar boats, touching the oldest exposed rocks on this planet that have been tumbled for eons, seeing the green created by Havasu Falls. The Grand Canyon will always be a place of magic and mystery for me and it was good to see it again.
Sedona, is known for fancy homes, gorgeous red rock walls and vortex's of healing spritual energy. Aptly named Buddha Beach in Red Rock State Park is covered with cairns built by spiritual seekers, visitors and delighted children.
Quaking aspens in the middle of a saguaro forest are just one of the many surprises waiting for you at Jewel Creek, part of the Desert Foothills Trust in Scottsdale, AZ
The Mexican Gold poppies are beginning to bloom in the Sonoran Desert of Arizona.
Teddy Bear Cactus and poppies
In one morning we traveling from the Rio Grande Rift Valley, filled with fast moving sparkling water to Las Cruces where the might river was nothing but a memory.
Rio Grande Overlook
The Rio Grande under US 70 in Las Cruces
Road to Los Alamos
Sitting a thousand feet below Los Alamos is the community of White Rock. Officially part of the Los Alamos zipcode, it is its own world of 3200 hearty residents. This was where the construction workers who built the Lab of Mass Destruction in the 1940's lived and it still retains its working class ethos as well as its own stunning views of mountains and the Rio Grande.
Snowing at the Rio Grande Lookout
Wind swept in White Rock
The collective motion of thousands of birds in swirling patterns is called a murmuration. Scientists have many theories as to why they happen, but it is still largely a mystery - a mystery that makes for a wonderful sunset show. As we depart from San Miguel the brown headed cowbirds are passing through town on their way north and their murmuration was like a three act play. In the first act we sat and watched a small group of red legged stilts fish for dinner along the muddy shore. Occasionally one would wander into the yellow reflections of dried grass, creating an almost autumn like scene. We began to wonder if we had bad information about this event.
In Act Two, a few scout birds start entering the area from the south, then a few more. For awhile it doesn't look like much, but slowly the numbers begin to build. Just when we think it is the end, thousands more birds arrive in tight flying squadrons and then the dance really starts, high in the sky. Swooping, arcing coils of flight. A small group breaks off and starts swirling around a nearby island. We can hear their wings as they make their rapid turn around the back side of the island.
As the sky darkens, the third act begins, a slow descent over their nesting area. Gradually birds drop from the flock onto the trees until every last bird has its home for the night and it is too dark to see them against the trees.
It was a lovely farewell performance for our time in San Miguel de Allende
