Friday, December 31, 2010
The Arizona-Sonora Desert
The Arizona-Sonora Desert is contrary to the typical media stereotype of a desert. The Sonoran Desert includes 60 mammal species, 350 bird species, 20 amphibian species, over 100 reptile species, 30 native fish species, over 1000 native bee species, and more than 2000 native plant species. The Sonoran Desert area southwest of Tucson and near the Mexican border is vital habitat for the only population of Jaguars living within the United States. Wikipedia.
If you can find time to leave the areas huge cities, you will find an area rich in diversity and full of surprises. When I walk in the desert, I am home. All of the plants and animals are familiar. I love the cactus and other desert plants. I don't usually move too fast because there is always something to examine closely, from a fantastic lichen to a Christmas Cactus hiding in a creosote bush.
In the picture above, you can see one reason I love the desert. You can see.
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
The Smith Homestead at Nauvoo
This house on the eastern bank of the Mississippi River predates the arrival of the members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints to Nauvoo, (formerly Commerce), Illinois. After his escape from imprisonment in Missouri in 1839, Joseph Smith, the prophet, moved into this house. The house also served as the headquarters of the Church for about two years. While the Prophet Joseph was living in this house he received two revelations, one about baptism for the dead and another revealing that the Saints should build a Temple. He wrote, ""I presume the doctrine of 'baptism for the dead' has ere this reached your ears. . . . It was certainly practiced by the ancient churches; and St. Paul endeavors to prove the doctrine of the resurrection from the same, and says, 'Else what shall they do which are baptized for the dead, if the dead rise not at all? Why are they then baptized for the dead?'
" . . . The Saints have the privilege of being baptized for those of their relatives who are dead, whom they believe would have embraced the Gospel, if they had been privileged with hearing it, and who have received the Gospel in the spirit, through the instrumentality of those who have been commissioned to preach to them."
" . . . The Saints have the privilege of being baptized for those of their relatives who are dead, whom they believe would have embraced the Gospel, if they had been privileged with hearing it, and who have received the Gospel in the spirit, through the instrumentality of those who have been commissioned to preach to them."
Monday, December 27, 2010
Miles to go before I sleep
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
by Robert Frost
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Adam-ondi-Ahman
This really is a photo of Adam-ondi-Ahman in Daviess County, Missouri.
"This earth was once a garden place,
With all her glories common;
And men did live a holy race,
And worship Jesus face to face,
In Adam-ondi-Ahman.
We read that Enoch walk[e]d with God,
Above the pow[e]r of Mammon:
While Zion spread herself abroad,
And saints and angels sung aloud
In Adam-ondi-Ahman.
Her land was good and greatly blest,
Beyond all Israel's Canaan:
Her fame was known from east to west;
Her peace was great, and pure the rest
Of Adam-ondi-Ahman.
Hosanna to such days to come—
The Savior's second comin[g]—
When all the earth in glorious bloom,
Affords the saints a holy home
Like Adam-ondi-Ahman."
by W. W. Phelps 1835
Friday, December 24, 2010
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Monday, December 20, 2010
The good tidings of mountains...
“Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop off like autumn leaves.”
John Muir
Sunday, December 19, 2010
The Wasp
It is pretty hard to find anything poetic to say about wasps. If you don't bother them, they won't bother you applies most of the time but like many things in life, you may not know when you are bothering them. When you intrude into their world, they are perfectly well equipped to let you know what they think about you and the world in general. This wasp is pretty obvious, but there are wasps in the world that you can't detect quite so easily and when you make them mad, they cease to be the quiet background and use their amply endowed weapons to fight back. If you go around attacking people and bothering them, you just might find a wasp or two or more.
Saturday, December 18, 2010
The immortal towers
A Voice came from the sky:
"Set thy desires more high.
Thy buildings fade away
Because thou buildest clay.
Now make the fabric sure
With stones that will endure!
Hewn from the spiritual rock,
The immortal towers of the soul
At Death's dissolving touch shall mock,
And stand secure while aeons roll."
Henry Van Dyke
"Set thy desires more high.
Thy buildings fade away
Because thou buildest clay.
Now make the fabric sure
With stones that will endure!
Hewn from the spiritual rock,
The immortal towers of the soul
At Death's dissolving touch shall mock,
And stand secure while aeons roll."
Henry Van Dyke
Friday, December 17, 2010
The morning miracle of light
'Tis done,--the morning miracle of light,--
The resurrection of the world of hues
That die with dark, and daily rise again
With every rising of the splendid Sun!
Henry Van Dyke
The resurrection of the world of hues
That die with dark, and daily rise again
With every rising of the splendid Sun!
Henry Van Dyke
Thursday, December 16, 2010
The Old Mill
I love our pleasant, quaint old Mill,
It still recalls my boyish prime;
'Tis changed since then, and so am I,
'Tis changed since then, and so am I,
We both have known the touch of time:
The mill is crumbling in decay,
And I — my hair is early gray.
The mill is crumbling in decay,
And I — my hair is early gray.
I stand beside the stream of Life,
And watch the current sweep along:
And watch the current sweep along:
And when the flood-gates of my heart
Are raised it turns the wheel of Song:
Are raised it turns the wheel of Song:
But scant, as yet, the harvest brought
From out the golden fields of Thought!
Richard Henry Stoddard.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Monday, December 13, 2010
All aglow
"Just before the death of flowers,
And before they are buried in snow,
There comes a festival season
When nature is all aglow."
Unknown
And before they are buried in snow,
There comes a festival season
When nature is all aglow."
Unknown
Sunday, December 12, 2010
A different world
When I took this picture, I was living in a different world. Across the years, I realize that I could have chosen to stay in that world. Some people do. But I chose a far different future, not one filled with ice axes and crampons, but one filled with people and history. But every once and while, I wonder what it might have been like to climb yet another mountain? How we choose to live our lives starts over again every day.
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Marble Canyon
What makes the lingering Night so cling to thee?
Thou vast, profound, primeval hiding-place
Of ancient secrets,--gray and ghostly gulf
Cleft in the green of this high forest land,
And crowded in the dark with giant forms!
Art thou a grave, a prison, or a shrine?
Henry Van Dyke
Friday, December 10, 2010
Anomalies
No, this is not a fake picture and yes, this is House Rock Valley and those are the Vermilion Cliffs. I have always wondered why the Llama/Alpaca/Vicuña culture did not spread to the high plateau of Arizona. The climate and vegetation are similar to their native South American habitat. In one sense, they are just larger sheep. I have seen a llama running wild in the White Mountains of eastern Arizona, but except for a few specialized ranchers and pack train companies, like ostriches, they just haven't caught on.
Actually, I know why. It is a problem with a lack of connections, no wholesalers to purchase the wool, no market to sell the wool and no interest at all in eating llama steaks.
Monday, December 6, 2010
There's a certain Slant of light
-- Emily Dickinson
There's a certain Slant of light, Winter Afternoons-- That opresses, like the Heft Of Cathedral Tunes-- Heavenly Hurt, it gives us-- We can find no scar, But internal difference, Where the meanings are-- None may teach it--Any-- 'Tis the Seal Despair-- An imperial affliction Sent us of the Air-- When it comes, the Landscape listens-- Shadows--hold their breath-- When it goes, 'tis like the Distance On the look of Death--
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Light Shining out of Darkness
Light Shining out of Darkness
BY WILLIAM COWPER
1
God moves in a mysterious way,
His wonders to perform;
He plants his footsteps in the sea,
And rides upon the storm.
2
Deep in unfathomable mines
Of never-failing skill,
He treasures up his bright designs,
And works his sov'reign will.
3
Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take,
The clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy, and shall break
In blessings on your head.
4
Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,
But trust him for his grace;
Behind a frowning providence
He hides a smiling face.
5
His purposes will ripen fast,
Unfolding ev'ry hour;
The bud may have a bitter taste,
But sweet will be the flow'r.
6
Blind unbelief is sure to err,
And scan his work in vain;
God is his own interpreter,
And he will make it plain.
Saturday, December 4, 2010
The Sentinal
“Hot and tired I stop in the shade of an overhanging ledge and take a drink from my canteen. Resting, I listen to the deep dead stillness of the canyon. No wind or breeze, no birds, no running water, no sound of any kind but the stir of my own breathing.
“Alone in the silence, I understand for a moment the dread which many feel in the presence of primeval desert, the unconscious fear which compels them to tame, alter or destroy what they cannot understand, to reduce the wild and prehuman to human dimensions. Anything rather than confront directly the antehuman, that other world which frightens not through danger or hostility but in something far worse—its implacable indifference.”
Abbey, Edward. Desert Solitaire: A Season in the Wilderness / by Edward Abbey. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1970.
Friday, December 3, 2010
A nuclear explosion
When he saw this picture, one of my grandsons insisted that this was a nuclear explosion. Guess what? He is right. It is a nuclear explosion, but it just so happens that the explosion is on the sun. It is a commentary on our world that a four year old will fail to see a beautiful sunset, but instead sees a nuclear explosion. By the way, it does look like a nuclear explosion.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Sand of time
Don't try to guess what this photo shows. I will take you a long time to figure it out. Did you notice the ice on the leaf? Here is today's poem for the leaf of time:
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882)
A PSALM OF LIFE
WHAT THE HEART OF THE YOUNG MAN
SAID TO THE PSALMIST
TELL me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream ! —
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.
Life is real ! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal ;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.
Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way ;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Find us farther than to-day.
Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.
In the world's broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle !
Be a hero in the strife !
Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant !
Let the dead Past bury its dead !
Act,— act in the living Present !
Heart within, and God o'erhead !
Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time ;
Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.
Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate ;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882)
A PSALM OF LIFE
WHAT THE HEART OF THE YOUNG MAN
SAID TO THE PSALMIST
TELL me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream ! —
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.
Life is real ! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal ;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.
Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way ;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Find us farther than to-day.
Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.
In the world's broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle !
Be a hero in the strife !
Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant !
Let the dead Past bury its dead !
Act,— act in the living Present !
Heart within, and God o'erhead !
Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time ;
Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.
Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate ;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
The Snow Storm
The Snow Storm by Edna St. Vincent Millay
No hawk hangs over in this air:
The urgent snow is everywhere.
The wing adroiter than a sail
Must lean away from such a gale,
Abandoning its straight intent,
Or else expose tough ligament
And tender flesh to what before
Meant dampened feathers, nothing more.
Forceless upon our backs there fall
Infrequent flakes hexagonal,
Devised in many a curious style
To charm our safety for a while,
Where close to earth like mice we go
Under the horizontal snow.
The urgent snow is everywhere.
The wing adroiter than a sail
Must lean away from such a gale,
Abandoning its straight intent,
Or else expose tough ligament
And tender flesh to what before
Meant dampened feathers, nothing more.
Forceless upon our backs there fall
Infrequent flakes hexagonal,
Devised in many a curious style
To charm our safety for a while,
Where close to earth like mice we go
Under the horizontal snow.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Green grow the rushes, Ho
- I'll sing you twelve, Ho
- Green grow the rushes, Ho
- What are your twelve, Ho?
- Twelve for the twelve Apostles
- Eleven for the eleven who went to heaven,
- Ten for the ten commandments,
- Nine for the nine bright shiners,
- Eight for the April Rainers,
- Seven for the seven stars in the sky,
- Six for the six proud walkers,
- Five for the symbols at your door,
- Four for the Gospel makers,
- Three, three, the rivals,
- Two, two, the lily-white boys,
- Clothèd all in green, Ho Ho
- One is one and all alone
- And evermore shall be (it)(or "as") so.
- Hmm, wait a minute. These rushes aren't green so the song doesn't work at all. Brown grow the rushes, Ho, doesn't quite work.
Individual Variations
Each individual has their own capacity to share with others. Although we all have a tendency to view those around us as superficially similar, most people's differences are greater than their similarities. As Johann Wolfgang von Goethe said, "Certain defects are necessary for the existence of individuality." As all have defects, so do all have perfections.
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Thistle Down
"Away they all flew like the down on a thistle... " Santa Claus notwithstanding, thistles are not the most lovable of plants. Every part seems to end in a spike or sticker. In fact, the only appealing part of the plant is its flower and the resulting seeds, the down of the poem. There are several related plants that all get called thistles all of which are considered noxious weeds. Here is Creative Commons photo of the thistle down, once the flower has produced seeds:
See Gene Wilburn in Creative Commons. I think the analogy in Twas the Night before Christmas, is faulty. Thistle down is non-directional and is carried on the wind. We would hope Santa's sleigh is more controllable.
See Gene Wilburn in Creative Commons. I think the analogy in Twas the Night before Christmas, is faulty. Thistle down is non-directional and is carried on the wind. We would hope Santa's sleigh is more controllable.
His days are as grass
13 Like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear him.
Friday, November 26, 2010
There is light at the end
Each blade of grass has its spot on earth whence it draws its life, its strength; and so is man rooted to the land from which he draws his faith together with his life.
Joseph Conrad
Going home must be like going to render an account.
Joseph Conrad
Joseph Conrad
Going home must be like going to render an account.
Joseph Conrad
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Cotton in the raw
Once when I was standing in a grocery store checkout line, I had a younger girl behind me ask what it was that I was purchasing. The item happened to an artichoke. I reflected on the lack of connection with the real world among the young. Having gone to elementary school in Arizona, we were taught about cotton. But, I would assume, like the girl in the store, a picture of an actual cotton plant would be mostly unfamiliar to the vast majority of the American population. That is, of course, unless you were raised on a cotton farm. It is true that we, as a society, have become extremely disassociated with commodities and most raw materials. What is even more interesting is that cotton is an attractive plant with lovely yellow flowers.
I would suppose that I am attracted to basic materials because of my saturation with electronics and the media.
I would suppose that I am attracted to basic materials because of my saturation with electronics and the media.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Rain
by Robert Louis Stevenson
The rain is falling all around,
It falls on field and tree,
It rains on the umbrellas here,
And on the ships at sea.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
For the beauty of the earth
For the beauty of the earth, For the glory of the skies; For the love which from our birth, Over and around us lies; Lord of all, to Thee we raise This, our hymn of grateful praise. For the wonder of each hour, Of the day and of the night; Hill and vale and tree and flow'r, Sun and moon, and stars of light; Lord of all, to Thee we raise This, our hymn of grateful praise.
Monday, November 22, 2010
Patience
If patience is a virtue, then lichen is most virtuous of organisms. It was recently discovered that lichen is a symbiosis of three, not two, plants; a fungus, an alga and/or a bacteria. For a more specific description I refer you to the following from Wikipedia:
Lichens (pronounced /ˈlaɪkən/, sometimes /ˈlɪtʃən/) are composite organisms consisting of a symbiotic association of a fungus (the mycobiont) with a photosynthetic partner (the photobiont or phycobiont), usually either a green alga (commonly Trebouxia) or cyanobacterium (commonly Nostoc).Here is an organism that has no roots and depends entirely for sustenance on occasional rain water. All of its nutrients are derived from its substrate, usually some form of rock. Lichen can live on very low levels of water and often grow where nothing else will survive.
There is a saying that all things come to those who wait. Perhaps we can take a lesson from the lichen in patience?
Sunday, November 21, 2010
An almost perfect composition
As we look around us, we hardly ever see the perfect composition. In every thing there is a perspective that will reveal the perfection of the creations but in our hurried and casual lives we ignore the perfection and see only what we chose to see. We need to stop and view the beauty around us. Quoting John Muir, "Keep close to Nature's heart... and break clear away, once in awhile, and climb a mountain or spend a week in the woods. Wash your spirit clean."
Friday, November 19, 2010
Waterfalls
Being from the desert, I am always fascinated with water and especially with waterfalls. Arizona has some fantastic waterfalls, but they always seem to be at the end of long and dry hikes. What is ever more of a novelty are waterfalls that run all year long. There are places where waterfalls are so common that unless they are spectacularly high or impressively large, they don't even have names. This waterfall is on Cascade Creek in the Hanging Rock State Park in North Carolina and it is unnamed, at least on the maps available.
It was taken in the early fall, when only a few of the leaves had turned colors. I would like to see all of the waterfalls in the winter when they are frozen.
It was taken in the early fall, when only a few of the leaves had turned colors. I would like to see all of the waterfalls in the winter when they are frozen.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
No this is not Arizona, where is it?
Hardwood forests and waterfalls? Well, Arizona has a lot of different areas but this is not one of them. In keeping with the photographic theme of this Blog, I am starting to include photos from all over the United States. Fortunately, I get to travel occasionally and I almost always take my camera. I am reminded of the poem by Robert Southey published in 1820, The Cataract of Lodore. Here it is for those of you unfamiliar with the poem:
"How does the water
Come down at Lodore?"
My little boy asked me
Thus, once on a time;
And moreover he tasked me
To tell him in rhyme.
Anon, at the word,
There first came one daughter,
And then came another,
To second and third
The request of their brother,
And to hear how the water
Comes down at Lodore,
With its rush and its roar,
As many a time
They had seen it before.
So I told them in rhyme,
For of rhymes I had store;
And 'twas in my vocation
For their recreation
That so I should sing;
Because I was Laureate
To them and the King.
From its sources which well
In the tarn on the fell;
From its fountains
In the mountains,
Its rills and its gills;
Through moss and through brake,
It runs and it creeps
For a while, till it sleeps
In its own little lake.
And thence at departing,
Awakening and starting,
It runs through the reeds,
And away it proceeds,
Through meadow and glade,
In sun and in shade,
And through the wood-shelter,
Among crags in its flurry,
Helter-skelter,
Hurry-skurry.
Here it comes sparkling,
And there it lies darkling;
Now smoking and frothing
Its tumult and wrath in,
Till, in this rapid race
On which it is bent,
It reaches the place
Of its steep descent.
The cataract strong
Then plunges along,
Striking and raging
As if a war waging
Its caverns and rocks among;
Rising and leaping,
Sinking and creeping,
Swelling and sweeping,
Showering and springing,
Flying and flinging,
Writhing and ringing,
Eddying and whisking,
Spouting and frisking,
Turning and twisting,
Around and around
With endless rebound:
Smiting and fighting,
A sight to delight in;
Confounding, astounding,
Dizzying and deafening the ear with its sound.
Collecting, projecting,
Receding and speeding,
And shocking and rocking,
And darting and parting,
And threading and spreading,
And whizzing and hissing,
And dripping and skipping,
And hitting and splitting,
And shining and twining,
And rattling and battling,
And shaking and quaking,
And pouring and roaring,
And waving and raving,
And tossing and crossing,
And flowing and going,
And running and stunning,
And foaming and roaming,
And dinning and spinning,
And dropping and hopping,
And working and jerking,
And guggling and struggling,
And heaving and cleaving,
And moaning and groaning;
And glittering and frittering,
And gathering and feathering,
And whitening and brightening,
And quivering and shivering,
And hurrying and skurrying,
And thundering and floundering;
Dividing and gliding and sliding,
And falling and brawling and sprawling,
And driving and riving and striving,
And sprinkling and twinkling and wrinkling,
And sounding and bounding and rounding,
And bubbling and troubling and doubling,
And grumbling and rumbling and tumbling,
And clattering and battering and shattering;
Retreating and beating and meeting and sheeting,
Delaying and straying and playing and spraying,
Advancing and prancing and glancing and dancing,
Recoiling, turmoiling and toiling and boiling,
And gleaming and streaming and steaming and beaming,
And rushing and flushing and brushing and gushing,
And flapping and rapping and clapping and slapping,
And curling and whirling and purling and twirling,
And thumping and plumping and bumping and jumping,
And dashing and flashing and splashing and clashing;
And so never ending, but always descending,
Sounds and motions for ever and ever are blending
All at once and all o'er, with a mighty uproar, -
And this way the water comes down at Lodore.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Monday, November 15, 2010
Quartz veins and gold
It is common knowledge among treasure hunters and prospectors that native gold deposits are sometimes associated with veins of quartz, usually in conjunction with sulfides like pyrite. This picture from North Carolina shows a classically formed quartz vein. There are supposedly over 300 gold mines in North Carolina. Hence my fascination with quartz in veins. For years and years we have had two huge quartz rocks in our front yard. They don't have any gold, but they remind me of the possibility. You may not have associated North Carolina with gold, but in 1799 Conrad Reed found a 17 pound gold nugget in Little Meadow Creek. For years the family did not know what they had and used the rock for a doorstop. Once the family realized what they had, they established the nation's first gold mine, the Reed Gold Mine, now a national historic landmark, is located in Midland, North Carolina. There are reports of North Carolina gold nuggets weighing 28 pounds, 25 pounds and 15 pounds.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
An early protective coating
Despite their fearsome appearance, cactus are really quite friendly, in today's parlance, they are seriously mis-understood. Running bare foot through the summer grass, loses its appeal in the desert. Grass is not soft and the other plants are highly protective of their space. Contrary to what you would think, despite the stickers and prickers, we mostly went barefoot all summer. As a matter of fact, except for work and church, I mostly still do. But, we were also very careful what we stepped on, because unless you have experienced being stuck by a cactus, I don't think you can imagine how painful it really is.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
An impossible dream
There are a few places on this earth that are so out-of-the-ordinary that they take on a dream like quality. Slot canyons turn the normal perspective of the world upside down and inside out. Arizona and Utah both have more than their share of these unique locations. Utah has Little Wild Horse and The Subway. Arizona has many whose names are almost unknown, but two that are world famous, Upper and Lower Antelope Canyon. Located at the edge of the city limits, just south of Page, Arizona, the canyons are on the Navajo Nation and access is controlled by two families. Although the facilities at the both sites would be considered limited, the Navajo guides are extremely friendly and helpful.
By the way, it is very difficult to get good pictures because it is so dark in the canyons, even during days with bright sunshine. Flash photography gives very poor results and so long exposure times are necessary. It is also a good idea to have a very wide angle lens on your camera.
By the way, it is very difficult to get good pictures because it is so dark in the canyons, even during days with bright sunshine. Flash photography gives very poor results and so long exposure times are necessary. It is also a good idea to have a very wide angle lens on your camera.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Hidden in the recesses of the heart
There are places where light is the intruder, almost caves deep in the heart of the stone. Where the reality is stranger than the photograph.
Frank Lloyd Wright attempted to promote a harmony between human habitation the the natural world so that a building, its furnishings and surroundings became a part of a unified, interrelated whole. He got it backward.
Human habitation can never be in harmony with the natural world. Because the natural world is in a constant state of dynamic change. Human construction resists change, while the natural world changes with each passing day of light and dark, rain and snow, wind and storm.
The natural world is always dangerous. Seeking harmony with nature and its environs means living with the possibility that the same forces that create the beauty of nature will turn on you and become your enemy.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
When I dream, will I dream of aspens?
These strikingly beautiful white trunked trees grow extensively in certain climate zones. In Arizona, the trees grow above 7000 feet. Driving over the Kaibab Plateau in northern Arizona, gives you a dramatic example of the trees' sensitivity to altitude. As you drive up and down the hills, the trees keep appearing and then disappearing depending on the slight altitude loss or gain. They are most apparent in the Spring when their bright green leaves contrast with the darker colors of the evergreens. Again in the Fall they show dramatically with bright yellow-gold or crimson leaves.
Aspens grow in clumps from a single root system. Groups of aspen trees may be some of the oldest living trees.
Aspens grow in clumps from a single root system. Groups of aspen trees may be some of the oldest living trees.
Monday, November 8, 2010
Esplanade and Surprise Valley
Almost 2000 feet down into the Grand Canyon there is a strange slick rock wilderness known as the Esplanade. In the picture above, it is the flat area on the butte above the middle of the right side. Just to the left, appearing like a U-shaped short cut-off valley with cliffs on either side, is Surprise Valley. The Esplanade slick rock is sliced by shear canyons and covered with hoodoos. The rock resists any trail making and the only way to navigate the maze is to follow rock cairns set about every 50 yards or so. The rock formations in this area look like remnants of an entirely different landscape, one where the streams ran in an opposite direction to the Colorado River and the cliffs seem to be after thoughts.
Not a place to visit in July and August. I speak from experience.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
The road goes ever on and on...
The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.
Tolkien, J. R. R. The Lord of the Rings. London: Allen & Unwin, 1954.
Monday, November 1, 2010
Climbing on the granite
Little Cottonwood Canyon is a U shaped glaciated granite walled canyon in the Wasatch Mountains to the east of Salt Lake City, Utah. For many years, I lived in Cottonwood, a small community, now part of greater Salt Lake. We were some of the early rock climbers on the granite. This was one of our favorite places to climb for two reasons, there was a turn-out parking area along the road and granite was stable. This location is just up the Canyon from the famous FamilySearch Granite Vault. By today's standards our climbing equipment would be considered objectionable. It is now the standard to use non-destructive climbing aids, but at the time pitons were the state of the art. We would climb up until it got time to turn around and then we would rappel down, load up the gear and drive down the canyon to home.
I was never part of the "climbing community" since we did not drink or party, but we probably pioneered many of the common routes known to climbers today. I left off climbing when I went into the Army during the Vietnam War.
I was never part of the "climbing community" since we did not drink or party, but we probably pioneered many of the common routes known to climbers today. I left off climbing when I went into the Army during the Vietnam War.
Friday, October 29, 2010
Looking at the sky
I live in an insulated world. Air conditioning. Closed windows. I walk into my garage, open the door and drive my air conditioned car to work. I walk about fifty feet from the covered parking to the door of the office. My life is a series of moving from one air conditioned environment to another.
Every so often, I go outside. Hmmm. What is that bright light in the sky. Some one should do something about the temperature, it is really hot. I wouldn't mind it if they would turn down the blowing air. What are those white blobs in the sky? I don't remember seeing them before. I heard someone talking about clouds. Maybe those are clouds? I guess its time to go back inside, I've had enough fresh air and clouds and sky and sun and stars for a while. I wonder why I feel like a worm?
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