My photographic style centers on the use of natural light to visualize emotion and evoke memory. The evolution of my style began early in the year 2002, with an imperative to capture personal and fleeting memories.
My son and I traveled to New York City, to view the first Saint Patrick's Day parade after September 11, 2001. My work from that parade was so successful and satisfying (see "New York Fire Department, Saint Patrick's Day 2002") I just never stopped.
My visit to Finger Rock Canyon of the Santa Catalina Mountains filled two mornings. On the first morning, the subject was the lower canyon as morning light filtered over the eastern ridge.
Early morning to the north / northwest looking over a 20-foot fallen Saguaro Cactus (Carnegiea gigantean), toward lower ridges of the Santa Catalina Mountains. The saguaro is among a stand of healthy fellows, some with new growth and flowers on the tips of arms and main columns. This giant must have grown over rock through 60 years. It was brought down when the roots weakened. Specimens that are more reliably rooted can live to 200 years.
A clump of brittlebush shrub (Encelia farinosa) grows from the same rock.
Pima Canyon is the next over, behind that near ridge which provides similar shade. Unlike Finger Rock Canyon, the Pima Canyon trail follows the western cliff and loses the shade much sooner. During our three-week trip, my wife, Pam, and I visited Pima in our first week.
These photos were taken between 6:20 and 7:00 am.
Along the trail I noticed a multitude of buds on the tip of selected saguaro arms. In a previous blog, there’s a photo of this same saguaro in the shade. The following series captures the one blossoming top just as the sun passes over the eastern, shadowing, ridge.
The same saguaro, two minutes later…….
Here is a portion of the saguaro forest, around 7 am with the lower canyon filled with light. There are a few foothill homes with west and southwest Tucson. The Tucson Mountains are in the distance.
These photographs are a continuation of blogs from two days’ exploration of Finger Rock Canyon of the Santa Catalina Mountains, southern Arizona. Here we explore the nature of the Saguaro blossom.
Saguaro flowers start as buds on the tip of the cactus body or arm. The specimen in the photograph below, growing in the yard of a foothills home on the border of federal land, is over 30 feet tall and, at the end of April 2011, buds are sprouting from every tip. Look closely for opening buds and full saguaro blossoms.
Flower buds grow only from some tips and around the center, along the sides, not from the point at the very end of the tip, from which the limb grows.
These buds first appeared mid-April and are here shown in the latter stages of maturity, prior to opening. Sometimes, the base of an arm weakens and the arm lowers close to the ground while remaining healthy. While descending the canyon I noticed this had happened to the arm of a particularly large specimen, an arm in full flower. This and the following photographs are from that arm.
I have read that each flower opens in the cool of the night and lasts only until the following afternoon. Here is a fully blossomed flower with a pair of opening buds.
And more, from a different view of the same arm.
A saguaro flower in full bloom, having opened the previous night. This flower will last a single day. It will wilt in the heat of a single afternoon and close. In this brief time, flying animals will pollinate it. You can see numerous honey bees on the flowers, in a previous blog, “Saguaro Flowers in Finger Rock Canyon.”
A Japanese flowering cherry tree in bloom on an early May day. Called a Shirofugen (Secientific name: Prunue serrulata, of the Rosaceae family this is the species planted around National Tidal Basin, Washington D.C. and around which the National Cherry Blossom Festival is celebrated commemorating the 1912 gift of Prunus serrulata Japanese cherry trees from Tokyo to the city of Washington.
The tree over Pam is called a Shirofugen (Scientific name: Prunus serrulata, of the Rosaceae family) and is one species planted around National Tidal Basin, Washington D.C. Shirofugen blossoms are described “Flowers double, deep pink at first, fading to pale pink.”
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In Japan, since the 8th century, “Hanami” is the centuries-old practice of picnicking under a blooming sakura or ume tree. Here in the United States, the National Cherry Blossom Festival is celebrated commemorating the 1912 gift of Prunus serrulata Japanese cherry trees from Tokyo to the city of Washington.
Traditionally cherry blossoms remind the Japanese of clouds, the blooms come out en mass, the tree changes shape with the breeze. Viewing sakura brings to mind thoughts of the transience of existence, the fragility and transience of the exquisite blooms leads one to appreciate the moment. The following photograph of Pam was taken a month before my Mother’s sudden decline and passing in 2013. We’d travel to Long Island several times a year to visit her, then take in familiar sights.
Growing up, our family visited the Planting Fields, a state park, several times in the spring and summer. As an adult with a growing family in Glen Cove, right around the corner, the Planting Fields were a welcome outing and visited several time times a year. The following photograph, taken that same May 2013 day, was a favorite park scene.
The two flowering cherry trees in the foreground are a type of Japanese sakura called Yoshino, one the most popular flowering cherries in temperate climates worldwide. All Yoshinos are clones from a single grafting and propagated throughout the world. The scientific name outlines the cross breeding of this variety, Prunus X Yeaoensis. Behind the cherries is an Oak tree, new leaves a bright green, and a pink child’s playhouse cottage.
A changing scene of the park is the now frequent visits by wedding parties and photographers, groups of Asian people, the bride and groom posing under the clouds of blossoms. By frequent I mean a steady stream, one after the other, when the blossoms are full.
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In 2007 I spent hours framing and capturing the following photograph on a Saturday, the day before Mother’s Day, during a visit to my Mother, who was widowed December, 1995. I used an inexpensive tripod, a Kodak DCS Pro slr/c camera body with the Canon 50mm f 1.4 USM lens, a UV filter and lots of time. There were no interruptions that day, at 5:30 pm I had the area to myself.
This child’s garden playhouse, framed by an ancient oak, pink Japanese cherry blossoms and gracious lawn was awarded a Photographic Society of American, Pictorial Print Division, Print of the Month award, published in the society magazine for that month.
The perfection of April in Tucson is nowhere better than mornings spent in Finger Rock Canyon of the Catalina Mountains. Oriented on a north/south axis, the eastern cliffs shed a long shadow well past 9:30 am. For early risers such as me, this means no hat and cool hiking to the canyon head: the trail hugs the eastern cliffs.
These three shots were taken 5:30 – 6:00 am mountain time (Arizona does not follow daylight savings time except on the Navajo Reservation).
About 700 years ago, when the expansion of the Mongol empire was under way, on the other side of the planet people discovered a series of caves, formed in tuff, with a favorable location in a south facing cliff near water. Tuff, a rock formed from volcanic ash, is hard, brittle and soluble in water. From these properties this series of caves formed. The southern exposure provided excellent climate control for people, like those we now call the Salado, who understood how to exploit the location.
They constructed from local materials (mud, plants and rock) rooms in the upper cave just far enough inside to be warmed by the winter sun and protected during the summer when the sun’s sky-path was higher. Who knows how long the Salado lived in what must have been this paradise or why they left.
In March 2006, after returning from a nine-day backpack trip to the remote eastern Superstition Wilderness I used a four-wheel vehicle to reach the Roger’s Trough trailhead for a day trip to this site in Roger’s Canyon. The advantage of Roger’s Trough is the high elevation that leaves “just” about 1,100 feet of climbing (2,200 total) for the day. As it happens, it is downhill to the ruins though there is plenty of ups and downs plus scrambling over rocks.
I started late morning and a returning party met me on the way out and warned against leaving packs unattended. It seems they were victimized by pack rats. My timing was lucky and I had the site to myself.
First (refer to the “Roger Canyon” photograph, above) I climbed the cliff opposite from the ruins to set up a tripod an telephoto lens to shoot through the trees to capture the main building inside that very interesting looking tuff (see below). That central column (to the right) divides the cave opening and there are views from inside, up and across the canyon. In season, the cliffs are occupied by nesting birds and, higher up, there are fascinating caves in locations too high and steep to reach without the proper equipment.
As it is, climbing into the upper cave requires an exposed rock scramble. By “exposed” I mean the climber is exposed to falling. That is an intact wooden lintel of the visible structure opening and the larger structure, to the right, has curved walls.
Salado Cave Ruin
I then explored in and around the site. The location of a lower cave made it useful for storage, it was walled off and the sturdy structure still stands today. By the way, I inverted this view for artistic purposes.
Lower Storage Room
A lower cave is opened and accessible. Looking out, I felt the original inhabitants were with me and then a raven started calling over and over and over.
Lower Cave
I was so fascinated by the possibilities of the site that time got away from me until this incessant cawing of a raven made me notice the lengthening cliff shadows. Here is a view (see below) of my way home, back up Rogers Canyon. My last shot before packing up. It took just over two hours to get out, at a steady pace. It was twilight as I approached the Rogers Trough trail head.
By the way, my posting before this one (“Finding Circlestone”) includes a shot of White Mountain. In that view, these ruins are on the other side of White Mountain.
View up Rogers Canyon from the Ruins
Copyright 2023 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved
I first learned about Circlestone from stories The Searcher told during my first backpack into the eastern Superstition Mountains, on the Tule trail, April 2005. I described this in “Riding from Pine Creek to the Reavis Valley” where the Searcher described a stone circle, overgrown with Alligator Juniper, on the slopes of Mound Mountain. He pointed south toward a peak and foothills that rose from the valley floor and said, “follow the fire trail east from the southern Reavis Ranch valley.” There were strange happenings associated with Circlestone (as he called it) and he’d never taken the time to go there. “There is a book full of stories.” I eventually sought out Circlestone on the web and in books, but after I found it on my own using only the Searcher’s directions and advice from friends met on the way.
Sunset from Castle Dome
Backpacking with my sister
In 2006 I explored Circlestone twice along with my sister, Diane, who accompanied me. First for nine days early March 2006 using the Reavis Ranch trail from the north and the second for five days in November 2006, coming us the same trail from the south. Our first trip was Diane’s first “real” backpack adventure and we took it slow with a camp at Castle Dome where there are flat areas and exceptional views. Above, is the sunset from our second night (I camped the first night next to the car…we took it very, very sloooowwww).
Four Peaks Sunrise
Castle Dome
Then, there was morning of our third day. Here is the Four Peaks Wilderness in the first rays of dawn. These are green, rolling foothills of grass, low shrubs and a few juniper. If you know where to look, there’s an unmarked trail to Reavis Falls (the highest waterfall in Arizona). I found the trail and visited the falls on a later trip.
Castle Dome Sunrise
After enjoying the Four Peaks, you turn around and see Castle Dome in the morning light, as in this photograph. Remember the same of the “dome”, because it is visible from the ultimate view from Circlestone.
Reavis Valley and White Mountain from the trail to Circlestone
The Trail to Circlestone
Our camp was in the Reavis Valley, one of the first sites along the creek coming from the north. There were fantastic rock formations across the creek. Not far from there, the land falls away into steepness and then Reavis Falls. The Searcher told me about going that way, once. There is no trail down to the falls overlook and deep canyon carved by the water.
This photograph, above, is from a lovely forest of pinyon trees that grow along the trail to Circlestone (described by the Searcher as rising from the southern Reavis Valley). You can see the valley, just to the right, and a longer and steeper valley that rises from it up to White Mountain. That way is the southern legs of Reavis Trail. I have a movie clip from this same spot of the pinyons moving in the breeze and may post it at a later time.
All of the trail to Circlestone is a climb. You pass over “Whiskey Spring”, named for a still kept there in the 1800’s and over a steep defile gouged from the rock. The trail is well marked and I am told that, sometimes, there is no cairn marking the trail to Circlestone. If you are desperate to get there, look-up some excellent hiking directions available on the web. I have even found the circle on GoogleEarth, since I know where to look. If you like a challenge and the adventure, go from the directions the Searcher gave me.
Four Peaks from Circlestone
From the fire line trail, the unmarked branch to Circlestone climbs steeply and follows a ridge through Alligator juniper, punctuated by stalks of century plant, to a broad way that rises to Circlestone as though to a monument overgrown by the same juniper.
My Circlestone Mystery
There was an unusual experience on our first trip, on this portion of the trail. We were winding through the Juniper and, as it happened, Diane fell behind. After awhile I missed her and waited and, after a minute, went back to look for her. I found Diane sobbing uncontrollably, deep in grief over our father who passed away eleven years before. We talked about it until she felt better. She said it was as though a door opened and she could feel out father. What makes this exceptional is Diane is not given to anything like this and I ascribe her deep grief to the nature of the site. It is a mystery to this day.
At Circlestone, that first trip, we explored and experienced the site. You cannot see the entire wall at any point and need to wander through and over it, being careful not to disturb anything. Here and there, in the outer wall, are openings like the one in this photograph.
Site-Hole in the Circlestone Wall
At Circlestone
I call it a site hole because, on your knees, it is possible to look through and see the distant view through the trees. As you can see, the stones are a striking red color with green lichen growing thick.
On the second trip in November, knowing the way and having great weather, I brought my cameras to capture the exceptional views, one of which is above. I’d dearly love to come back to camp just below the ruin and do some work in the evening and morning light. For now, I can enjoy those views from Castle Dome.
Three Horsemen and Castle Dome
Can you see the dome in the middle distance. I did a portrait of three horsemen who road up to Circlestone in November. We came to know them pretty well, that afternoon and the following morning down in the valley.
Three Horsemen
I carted up a tripod, so you can see Diane and I in the same spot.
Mike and Diane at Circlestone
Copyright 2023 Michael Stephen Wills, All Rights Reserved
In town for a University of Arizona event I gazed from the Marriott before dawn to remember painting “A” mountain with the Sophos service club a half century ago. The tradition continues.
The view to the southwest includes University Neighborhood, downtown Tucson skyscrapers, “A” Mountain (painted red, white and blue November 2010), Tucson Mountains.
Interstate 10 between Benson and Wilcox ascends through a field of enormous, eroded granite boulders. Off to the west are the Dragoon Mountains, otherwise known as “Cochise Stronghold.” This rugged area served as a natural fortress and hideout for Apache Indians of the Chiricahua clan led by Cochise. He was born in this Dragoon Mountains about 1815. From 1869 to 1872 the Cochise band battled the U.S. Calvary because of the handling of an incident at Apache Pass about 30 miles east of here. It is believed that Cochise was buried somewhere in the Stronghold.
One April morning, very early, on the road to Cochise Stronghold. We stopped everything for me to unload the equipment to capture a gibbous moon low in the west, grazing a hoodoo ridge of Cochise Stronghold of the Dragoon Mountains. Near Dragoon, Cochise County, Arizona
Copyright 2023 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved
Thank You for exploring with me the South Rim trail of Taughannock Falls State Park on this first day of Spring 2023.
Photographs with video from this walk, with nature sounds and music in 4K HD
Click photograph for a larger view. To do this from WordPress Reader, you need to first click the title of this post to open a new page.
Here, before the epynmous creek flows over the falls, glacial outflow carved this deep canyon through relatively soft sedimentary rock. Distant Lake ViewThe place for rest and wonderLooking into the gorgeSouth Rim view of fallsTaughannock creek below the fallsRed Barn on Gorge Road, off South Rim rial.Perched on the north rim of the gorge, the Visitor Center for the Falls Overlook is visible before trees leaf out.On spring’s first day Taughannock Creek is full beneath the old railroad bridge, now a connector between South and North Rim Trails.The creek here plunges into the chasm below a former railroad bridge. Gorge from Railroad Bridge Walkway
Stenciled on asphalt pavement along the Cayuga Lake Inlet, the white paint delimits dandelion flower stalk and seedhead, mostly denuded, with floating seeds held aloft by the pappus.
A circular bench that has seen better days, a hollowed out tree trunk repurposed as a children’s playgound house, picnic benches and, in background, a portion of the Farmer’s Market pavilion, to the right is Johnson Boatyard, Cayuga Inlet and lake. This is the Steamboat Landing, historically the southern port on Cayuga Lake. The entire area is long overdue for a facelift.
Painted on the side of restroom building, various shades of blue, black outlines, something or other holding a trident surrounded by fanciful fish.
On the trail to Lighthouse Point, this tree is in fine winter form on this early spring afternoon in March. Newman Municipal Golf Course
Cayuga Lake Views from Lighthouse Point
Copyright 2023 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved
Michael Stephen Wills Photography 